"Oh, mercy, Monseigneur! I will obey!" cried Yvonnet, cured of one fright by a greater one.
"Martin," said Vicomte d'Exmès, "you heard what I said. Pass him and go on."
Martin-Guerre in his turn executed the evolution which he had seen his master perform, and assumed the first place.
"Forward!" said Gabriel.
Martin went bravely up, and Yvonnet, menaced by Gabriel, who carried his sword in his right hand and used only his left to assist his feet in the ascent, forgot his vertigo, and followed the squire.
Thus the fourteen men ascended the last one hundred and fifty rounds of the ladder. "Parbleu!" thought Martin-Guerre, whose good humor came back to him as he saw the space which separated him from the summit of the tower growing ever less. "Parbleu! Monseigneur discovered a sovereign cure for the vertigo."
He had just finished that pleasant reflection, when his head reached the level of the edge of the platform.
"Is it you?" asked a voice unknown to Martin.
"Parbleu!" the squire replied in an unembarrassed tone.
"It is quite time," rejoined the sentinel, "In less than five minutes the patrol will be making their third round."