The night was dark and the wind whistled; they had to climb slowly, to hold their daggers between their teeth and feel for the rungs of the ladder with their hands and feet.
Suddenly (they were midway between the ground and the top), they felt themselves going down; the rope had slipped.

But they did not utter a sound; they remained motionless.

Their weight had caused the culverin to tip forward; it stopped on the edge of the embrasure and they slowly resumed their ascension and arrived one after another on the platform of the tower.
The sleepy sentinels did not have time to give the alarm.

The garrison was either asleep or playing dice on the drums.

A panic seized the soldiers and they fled to the dungeon.