The guns were small bell-mouthed barrels of hooped iron, muzzle loading, mounted on high wheels, and each shooting half a dozen balls of lead large as walnuts. They were carefully aimed. The shot whistled and sang viciously.
"Higher, men!" shouted the Genoese, from a merlon. "Give the pieces their utmost range."
The Janissaries replied with a yell. The second volley also failed. Then Justiniani descended from his perch.
"Your Majesty," he said, "to stop the planting of the gun there is nothing for us but a sally."
"We are few, they are many," was the thoughtful reply. "One of us on the wall is worth a score of them in the field. Their gun is an experiment. Let them try it first."
The Genoese replied: "Your Majesty is right."
The Turks toiled on, backing and shifting their belabored trains, until the monster at last threatened the city with its great black Cyclopean eye.
"The Dacian is not a bad engineer," said the Emperor.
"See, he is planting other pieces."
Thus Justiniani; for oxen in trains similar to the first one came up tugging mightily, until by mid-afternoon on each flank of the first monster three other glistening yellow logs lay on their carriages in a like dubious quiet, leaving no doubt that St. Romain was to be overwhelmed, if the new agencies answered expectations.