The rain now began to fall in torrents, washing away the floods of gore which, since daybreak, had dyed the bastions and the wall; and the assault continued as arduously as the defense was maintained with desperation. Solyman commanded in person the division which was opposed to the gate and the fort intrusted by the lord general of the Christians to the care of the Italian auxiliaries. But, though it was now past noon, and the sultan had prosecuted his attack on that point with unabated vigor since the dawn, no impression had yet been made. The Italians fought with a heroism which bade defiance to the numerical superiority of their assailants; for they were led on by a young chieftain who, beneath an effeminate exterior, possessed the soul of a lion. Clad in a complete suit of polished armor, and with crimson plumes waving from his steel helmet, to which no visor was attached, that youthful leader threw himself into the thickest of the medley, sought the very points where danger appeared most terrible—and, alike by his example and his words, encouraged those whom he commanded to dispute every inch of ground with the Moslem assailants.
The sultan was enraged when he beheld the success with which that Italian chieftain rallied his men again after every rebuff; and, calling to Ibrahim to keep near him, Solyman the Magnificent advanced toward the breach which his cannon had already effected in the walls defended so gallantly by the Italian auxiliaries. And now, in a few minutes, behold the sultan himself, nerved with wonderful energy, rushing on—scimiter in hand—and calling on the young Italian warrior to measure weapons with him. The Christian chieftain understood not the words which the sultan uttered, but full well did he comprehend the anxiety of that great monarch to do battle with him; and the curved scimiter and the straight, cross-handled sword clashed together in a moment. The young warrior knew that his opponent was the sultan, whose imperial rank was denoted by the turban which he wore; and the hope of inflicting chastisement on the author of all the bloodshed which had taken place on the walls of Rhodes inspired the youth with a courage perfectly irresistible.
Not many minutes had this combat lasted, before Solyman was thrown down in the breach, and the cross-handled sword of his conqueror was about to drink his heart’s blood, when the renegade Ibrahim dashed forward from amidst the confused masses of those who were fighting around, and by a desperate effort hurled the young Italian warrior backward.
“I owe thee my life, Ibrahim,” said the sultan, springing upon his feet. “But hurt not him who has combated so gallantly: we must respect the brave!”
The Italian chieftain had been completely stunned by his fall; he was, therefore, easily made prisoner and carried off to Ibrahim’s tent.
Almost at the same moment a messenger from Ahmed Pasha presented to the sultan a letter, in which was stated that the grand master, Villiers of Isle Adam, anxious to put a stop to the fearful slaughter that was progressing, had offered to capitulate on honorable terms. This proposition was immediately agreed to by the sultan, and a suspension of hostilities was proclaimed around the walls. The Ottomans retired to their camp, having lost upward of thirty thousand men during the deadly strife of a few hours; and the Christians had now leisure to ascertain the extent of their own disasters, which were proportionately appalling.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
THE PRISONER.
In the meantime Ibrahim had ordered his prisoner, the young Italian chieftain, to be conveyed to his tent; and when the renegade’s slaves had disencumbered the Christian of his armor, he began to revive. As Ibrahim bent over him, administering restoratives, a suspicion, which had already struck him the moment he first beheld his face, grew stronger and stronger; and the apostate at length became convinced that he had seen that countenance on some former occasion.
Ordering his slaves to withdraw, Ibrahim remained alone with his prisoner, who was now able to sit up on the sofa and gaze around him.
“I understand it all!” he exclaimed, the blood rushing back to his pale cheek; “I am in the power of the barbarians!”