“Begin! begin!” cried Pan Michael.
He rushed himself to the arsenal, and sent fresh news to the town: “Pan Mushalski was not killed in the sortie, for he has returned, after spiking two heavy guns. He was among the janissaries, who think of rebelling. In an hour we shall burn their woodworks; and if it be possible to make at the same time a sortie, I will make it.”
The messenger had not crossed the bridge when the walls were trembling from the roar of cannon. This time the castle began the thundering dialogue. In the pale light of the morning the flaming rags flew like blazing banners, and fell on the woodwork. The moisture with which the night rain had covered the wood helped nothing. Soon the timbers caught fire, and were burning. After the rags Ketling hurled bombs. The wearied crowds
