CHAPTER XXVIAn hour after De La Motte’s return, De Broglio sat in his own room, writing a report which he thought the Grand Master would be pleased to read, though its main event had been loud enough to be known without the help of any missive from him.
He would have written before, but wished to make his record complete, and he had only then given up hope that Medrano would return.
He looked up as La Cerda entered the room. “If you go up to the wall,” he said, “you will get a good view of a Turkish flag.”
“Why, do they attack?” De Broglio’s tone was unperturbed as he reached for his sword-belt, letting the letter lie.
“I would not say that. You must see to believe. They have a battery at the door. It is too weird for a war.”
De Broglio answered nothing to that. He went up through a c
