"But you are wounded, comrade."
"Never mind that, commander. What difference does it make, an ear more or less? I have a sword-cut too, but that is of no consequence. In breaking a pane of glass one always gets cut somewhat. But it is only a little of my blood."
They came to a sort of halt in the halt of the first story, taken by Radoub. A lantern was brought. Cimourdain rejoined Gauvain. They stopped to consider. It was indeed time to reflect. The besiegers were not in the secret of the besieged. They were ignorant of their lack of ammunition. They did not know that the defenders of the place were short of powder; the second story was the last post of resistance; the besiegers knew that the staircase might be mined.
One thing was certain, that the enemy could not escape. Those who were not dead were as good as under lock and key. Lantenac was in a trap.
With this certainty, they could take a little time to try to find out the best possible course to pursue. They already had many dead. It was necessary to try not to lose too many men in this last assault. There would probably be a tough outburst at first to quell.
The combat was interrupted. The besiegers, masters of the ground floor and of the next story were waiting for the general's order to go on. Gauvain and Cimourdain were holding counsel. Radoub listened in silence to their deliberation.
He ventured again to salute his general timidly,—
"Commander?"
"What is it, Radoub?"
"Have I the right to a slight reward?"
"Certainly. Ask what you like."
"I should like to be the first to go up."
It was impossible to refuse him. Besides, he would have done it without permission.
