But while this precaution deadened the sound of the wind and made it easier for him to hear sounds in the distance, it prevented him from hearing any noise at his side, and the hood which he had pulled over his eyes had made him blind for the last quarter of an hour. However, he was a brave soldier, incapable of sleeping at his post. But there is nothing more difficult than to keep a sharp lookout. An active and alert mind is necessary for that, and the _campiere's_ mind was wholly devoid of thought. He fancied that he was watching because he was not moving. And yet the mere falling of a pebble at his feet would have caused him to fire his gun. He had his finger on the trigger. Inspired by his desperate situation, Malacarne grasped the unfortunate sentinel's throat in his iron hands, rolled down into the bastion with him, and held him thus, unable to utter a sound, until one of his comrades stabbed him in his arms. In another moment they were crouching behind the battlements, protected from the fire of the enemy. The fire blazing in the courtyard enabled them to see the _campieri_ unsuspectingly intent on their game, and they took plenty of time to aim. The weapons were hurriedly reloaded while the besieged were seeking theirs; but before they had thought of using them--before they had discovered from what direction they were attacked--a second volley was poured in upon them, and several were severely wounded. Two did not rise again; a third fell head-foremost into the fire, and was burned to death for lack of help. From the tower the officer had seen where the attack had come from. He rushed out, roaring with rage. He did not arrive in time to prevent his men from wasting a volley on the wall. "Stupid dolts!" he cried, "you waste your ammunition firing at random! You have lost your wits! Leave the fort! Leave the fort! We must fight outside!" But he discovered that he himself had lost his wits, for he had left his sword on the table on which he had fallen asleep. A flight of six steps separated him from the room. He ascended them at a single leap, for he knew that in a moment he would have to fight with cold steel. But, during the fusillade, the Piccinino had succeeded in breaking his bonds, and had taken advantage of the tumult to break down the ill-secured door of his prison. He had pounced on the lieutenant's sword and extinguished the pitch-pine torch that was stuck in a crack of the table. When the officer returned, and was feeling about in the darkness for his weapon, he received a terrific cut across the face, and fell backward. Carmelo rushed upon him and finished him. Then he cut Verbum Caro's bonds and handed him the lieutenant's sword, saying: "Do what you can!"