"We are betrayed! We are dead men!" he babbled.
Claude made out a dim figure, crouching against the battlement; and the thought, which was also in Marcadel's mind, that the enemy had set a ladder against the wall and outflanked them, rendered him desperate.

At any rate there was but one on the roof as yet: and quick as thought the young man lowered his pike and charged the figure.
With a shrill scream the man fell on his knees before him.

"Mercy!" cried a voice he knew.

"Mercy! Don't kill me! Don't kill me!" It was Louis Gentilis.

Claude halted, looked at him in amazement, spurned him with his foot.