There was some originality in one of our modes of defence, and which, not being secundum artem, might have provoked the smile of an engineer.  The captain contrived to make a shoot of smooth deal boards, which he received from the ship:  these he placed in a slanting direction in the breach, and caused them to be well greased with cook’s slush; so that the enemies who wished to come into our hold, must have jumped down upon them, and would in an instant be precipitated into the ditch below, a very considerable depth, where they might either have remained till the doctor came to them, or, if they were able, begin their labours de novo.  This was a very good bug-trap; for, at that time, I thought just as little of killing a Frenchman as I did of destroying the filthy little nightly depredator just mentioned.

Besides this slippery trick, which we played them with great success, we served them another.  We happened to have on board the frigate a large quantity of fishhooks; these we planted, not only on the greasy boards, but in every part where the intruders were likely to place their hands or feet.  The breach itself was mined, and loaded with shells and hand-grenades; masked guns, charged up to the muzzle with musket-balls, enfiladed the spot in every direction.  Such were our defences; and, considering that we had been three weeks in the castle, opposed to such mighty odds, it is surprising that we only lost twenty men.  The crisis was now approaching.

One morning, very early, I happened to have the look-out.  The streak of fog which during the night hangs between the hills in that country, and presses down into the valleys, had just begun to rise, and the stars to grow more dim above our heads, when I was looking over the castle-wall towards the breach.  The captain came out and asked me what I was looking at.  I told him I hardly knew; but there did appear something unusual in the valley, immediately below the breach.  He listened a moment, looked attentively with his night-glass, and exclaimed, in his firm voice, but in an undertoned manner “To arms!—­they are coming!”

In three minutes every man was at his post; and though all were quick, there was no time to spare, for by this time the black column of the enemy was distinctly visible curling along the valley like a great centipede; and, with the daring enterprise so common among the troops of Napoleon, had begun in silence to mount the breach.  It was an awful and eventful moment; but the coolness and determination of the little garrison was equal to the occasion.

The word was given to take good aim, and a volley from the masked guns and musketry was poured into the thick of them.  They paused—­deep groans ascended!  They retreated a few paces in confusion, then rallied, and again advanced to the attack; and now the fire on both sides was kept up without intermission.  The great guns from the hill fort, and the Swiss sharpshooters, still nearer,