A franc-tireur fired at them point-blank, and the bullet whistled between them. "Leave me. Give me my sabre," said Rickerl, in a low voice.
"Then we'll both stay."
"Leave me! I'll not hang, I tell you."
"No."
The franc-tireurs were running towards them.
"They'll kill us both. Here they come!"
"You stood by me—" said Jack, in a faint voice.
Rickerl looked him in the eyes, hesitated, and cried, "I surrender! Come on! Hurry, Jack—for your sister's sake!"