Suddenly, behind us, and above our heads, a window in the gallery opened and we heard the voice of Rouletabille crying out desperately: "Fire, Bernier!--Fire!" At that moment the clear moonlight night was further lit by a broad flash.

By its light we saw Daddy Bernier with his gun on the threshold of the donjon door.
He had taken good aim.

The shadow fell.

But as it had reached the end of the right wing of the chateau, it fell on the other side of the angle of the building; that is to say, we saw it about to fall, but not the actual sinking to the ground.

Bernier, Arthur Rance and myself reached the other side twenty seconds later.