"No; but the devil seems to have jumped over the castle-wall into the town below," said Oswald. An unusual bustle took place amongst our soldiers, who were seen running through the streets in confusion, and exposed to the enemy's musketry, which instantly opened on them.
An enormous carcass, 230-pounds weight, had been blown from a mortar into Scylla; with the intention of setting it on fire. The combustibles which compose this amiable engine of modern warfare, are pitch, tallow, powder, saltpetre, oil, broken barrels of muskets, loaded grenades, bars of iron, chains, and broken bottles, all hooped together in one globular mass; through these, fuse-holes are bored, and to which lighted matches are applied the moment before the bomb is shot forth.
This ponderous affair descended through the roof of the general's temporary quarter; where, luckily, there was no wood-work to burn: but the house was shattered to its foundations, unroofed, and blown to ruins in a moment.
"Basta!" exclaimed Cavaliere Marco, as the carcass exploded, without doing further harm; "a rare fellow is this marchese! He will fight to the death-gasp, I warrant; and Scylla will never fall while his hand can hold a sabre."
"Then we will leave the castle in a worse predicament than the earthquake left it," replied Sir John, closing his telescope sharply.
"You may blow it into the sea, for aught that I care, gentlemen," said the Italian; "its late lord, my uncle, was ever a niggard of his ducats to me, and I have no great love for his old house. Many an unhappy heretic and infidel has perished in the obscurity of its dungeons. I know something of them. Will you believe it, Signor Claude? the old bashaw once lodged me in them for a week, because I interfered with his friendship for a certain fair damsel of Reggio: cardinals are not to be trifled with!"
"Well, sir," said the general, "you may join the assault to-night, if the breach is practicable." The eyes of the brave cavalier sparkled.
"With heart and hand, excellency! I bear as much hatred to our foes in Scylla, as a Christian man may bear to others. They are the false, tyrannical, and oppressive French! I have not forgotten that when Napoleon's fleet appeared off Malta, the knights of Provence, Auvergne, and all the French langue, abandoned the banner of the order, instead of fighting like L'Isle Adam of old, as long as stone wall and steel blade remained true to them."
The general bowed, and smiled slightly at the Italian's enthusiasm.
"Thank Heaven, the carcass did no more damage," said he: "the effect of one, properly shot, is indeed tremendous. I saw one fired when Moore took the Mozzello fort. Ah! Dundas, it was your poor brother, Frank, and I who led on the stormers there: he was a brave and dashing fellow, and would have been a glory to his profession but for that dog of a German—Kranz."