The warlike canon had hardly given the signal when the combat began. It was a fine spring night, everything was pale and grey; it was, as we have said, easy to make mistakes; the silence and obscurity imparted a certain solemnity to the struggle. The shadows moving about the Molard became agitated; they rushed upon each other, and dealt frequent blows in the darkness. One shadow ran after another, but on both sides they fought desperately and at close quarters. From time to time there was a brief gleam; sword met sword, and flashed fire. The violent Perrin and the zealous Claude Bernard were at the head of the huguenots, and struck stoutly. Among the catholics, John Rosetti and Canon Viole were those who rushed with greatest fury upon their adversaries. All four fell wounded on the spot. Others besides them were hit, and their blood flowed; but they were not noticed, and the combatants trampled the wounded under foot, until their friends, recognising them, carried them to some neighbouring house. A blow more famous than all was about to be struck; a victim more notable was about to bite the dust. Wernli, who had remained at the top of the square, unable to see his enemies, was challenging them with all the strength of his lungs. 'Where are they?' he kept on shouting and swearing; 'Where are these Lutherans who speak ill of our law?' Some huguenots who were not in the square, but in the Rue de la Croix d'Or (all the adjoining streets were full of catholics and reformers), answered him, 'They are here.' The canon, who could not see, but who could hear, rushed halberd in hand in the direction whence the reply came. He reached his enemies, striking them with the head and the butt of his weapon, which he handled as easily as his breviary. By killing Lutherans he hoped to kill Lutheranism itself.