“Massa Easy, you show me dat man?” said Mesty, when he heard the conversation between Easy and the Rebieras; “only let me know him.”

  “Do you see him there, Mesty, walking down in front of those men? he has a musket in his hand, a jacket with silver buttons, and white trousers.”

  “Yes, Massa Easy, me see him well — let me look little more — dat enough.”

  The galley slaves appeared to be very anxious to surround the house that no one should escape, and Don Silvio was arranging the men.

  “Ned,” said Jack, “let us show him that we are here. He said that he would acquaint Don Rebiera with our arrival — let us prove to him that he is too late.”

  “It would not be a bad plan,” replied Gascoigne; “if it were possible that these fellows had any gratitude among them, some of them might relent at the idea of attacking those who saved them.”

  “Not a bit; but it will prove to them that there are more in the house than they think for; and we can frighten some of them by telling them that the soldiers are near at hand.”

  Jack immediately threw up the casement, and called out in a loud voice, “Don Silvio! galley-slave! Don Silvio!”

  The party hailed turned round, and beheld Jack, Gascoigne, and Mesty, standing at the window of the upper floor.

  “We have saved you the trouble of announcing us,” called out Gascoigne. “We are here to receive you.”

  “And in three hours the troops will be here, so you must be quick, Don Silvio,” continued Jack.

  “A reveder la,” continued Gascoigne, letting fly his pistol at Don Silvio.

  The window was then immediately closed. The appearance of our heroes, and their communication of the speedy arrival of the troops, was not without effect. The criminals trembled at the idea; Don Silvio was mad with rage — he pointed out to the men the necessity of immediate attack — the improbability of the troops arriving so soon, and the wealth which he expected was locked up by Don Rebiera in his mansion. This rallied them, and they advanced to the doors, which they attempted to force without success, losing several men by the occasional fire from those within the house. Finding their efforts, after half an hour’s repeated attempts, to be useless, they retreated, and then bringing up a long piece of timber, which required sixty men to carry it, they ran with it against the door, and the weight and impetus of the timber drove it off its hinges, and an entrance was obtained. By this time it was dark, the lower story had been abandoned, but the barricade at the head of the stairs opposed their progress. Convenient loop-holes had been prepared by the defenders, who now opened a smart fire upon the assailants, the latter having no means of returning it effectually, had they had ammunition for their muskets, which fortunately they had not been able to procure. The combat now became fierce, and the galley-slaves were several times repulsed with great loss during a contest of two hours; but, encouraged by Don Silvio, and refreshed by repeated draughts of wine, they continued by degrees removing the barriers opposed to them.

  “We shall have to retreat!” exclaimed Don Rebiera; “very soon they will have torn down all. What do you think, Signor Easy?”

  “Hold this as long as we can. How are we off for ammunition?”

  “Plenty as yet — plenty to last for six hours, I think.”

  “What do you say, Mesty?”

  “By holy St. Patrig — I say hold out here — they got no fire-arms — and we ab um at arm-length.”

  This decision was the occasion of the first defence being held for two hours more, an occasional relief being afforded by the retreat of the convicts to the covered carts.

  At last, it was evident that the barricade was no longer tenable, for the heavy pieces of furniture they had heaped up to oppose entrance were completely hammered to fragments by poles brought up by the assailants, and used as battering-rams. The retreat was sounded; they all hastened to the other story, where the ladies were already placed, and the galley-slaves were soon in possession of the first floor — exasperated by the defence, mad with wine and victory, but finding nothing.

  Again was the attack made upon the second landing, but, as the stairs were now narrower, and their defences stronger in proportion, they for a long while gained no advantage. On the contrary, many of their men were wounded and taken down below.

  The darkness of the night prevented both parties from seeing distinctly, which was rather in favour of the assailants. Many climbed over the fortress of piled-up furniture, and were killed as soon as they appeared on the other side, and, at last, the only ammunition used was against those who made this rash attempt. For four long hours did this assault and defence continue, until daylight came, and then the plan of assault was altered: they again brought up the poles, hammered the pieces of furniture into fragments, and gained ground. The defenders were worn out with fatigue, but flinched not; they knew that their lives, and the lives of those dearest to them, were at stake, and they never relaxed their exertions; still the criminals, with Silvio at their head, progressed, the distance between the parties gradually decreased, and there was but one massive chest of drawers now defending the landing-place, and over which there was a constant succession of blows from long poles and cutlasses, returned with the bullets from their pistols.

  “We must now fight for our lives,” exclaimed Gascoigne to Easy, “for what else can we do?”

  “Do? — get on the roof and fight there, then,” replied Jack.

  “By-the-bye, that’s well thought of, Jack,” said Gascoigne. “Mesty, up and see if there is any place we can retreat to in case of need.”

  Mesty hastened to obey, and soon returned with a report that there was a trap-door leading into the loft under the roof, and that they could draw the ladder up after them.

  “Then we may laugh at them,” cried Jack. “Mesty, stay here while I and Gascoigne assist the ladies up,” explaining to the Rebieras and to their domestics why they went.

  Easy and Gascoigne hastened to the signora and Agnes, conducted them up the ladder into the loft, and requested them to have no fear; they then returned to the defences on the stairs, and joined their companions. They found them hard pressed, and that there was little chance of holding out much longer; but the stairs were narrow, and the assailants could not bring their force against them. But now, as the defences were nearly destroyed, although the convicts could not reach them with their knives, they brought up a large supply of heavy stones, which they threw with great force and execution. Two of Don Rebiera’s men and Don Martin were struck down, and this new weapon proved most fatal.

  “We must retreat, Jack,” said Gascoigne, “the stones can do no harm where we are going to. What think you, Don Philip?”

  “I agree with you; let those who are wounded be first carried up, and then we will follow.”

  This was effected, and as soon as the wounded men were carried up the ladder, and the arms taken up to prevent their falling into the hands of their assailants, for they were now of little use to them, the ammunition being exhausted, the whole body went into the large room which contained the trap-door of the loft, and, as soon as they were up, they drew the ladder after them. They had hardly effected this, when they were followed with the yells and shoutings of the galley-slaves, who had passed the last barriers, and thought themselves sure of their prey: but they were disappointed — they found them more secure than ever.

  Nothing could exceed the rage of Don Silvio at the protracted resistance of the party, and the security of their retreat. To get at them was impossible, so he determined to set fire to the room, and suffocate them, if he could do no otherwise. He gave his directions to his men, who rushed down for straw, but in so doing he carelessly passed under the trap-door, and Mesty, who had carried up with him two or three of the stones, dashed one down on the head of Don Silvio, who fell immediately. He was carried away, but his orders were put in execution; the room was filled with straw and fodder, and lighted. The effects were soon felt. The trap-door had been shut, but the heat and smoke burst through; after a time, the planks and rafters took fire, and their situation was terrible. A small trap-window in the roof on the side of the house was knocked open, and gave them a temporary relief; but now the rafters burned and crackled, and the smoke burst on them in thick columns. They could not see and with difficulty could breathe. Fortunately the room below that which had been fired was but one out of four on the attics, and, as the loft they were in spread over the whole of the roof they were able to remove far from it. The house was slated with massive slate of some hundredweight each, and it was not found possible to remove them so as to give air, although frequent attempts were made. Donna Rebiera sank exhausted in the arms of her husband, and Agnes fell into those of our hero, who, enveloped in the smoke, kissed her again and again; and she, poor girl, thinking that they must all inevitably perish, made no scruple, in what she supposed her last moment, of returning these proofs of her ardent attachment.

  “Massa Easy, help me here — Massa Gascoigne, come here. Now heab wid all your might: when we get one off we get plenty.”

  Summoned by Mesty, Jack and Gascoigne put their shoulders to one of the lower slates; it yielded — was disengaged, and slid down with a loud rattling below. The ladies were brought to it, and their heads put outside; they soon recovered; and now that they had removed one, they found no difficulty in removing others. In a few minutes they were all with their heads in the open air, but still the house was on fire below, and they had no chance of escape. It was while they were debating upon this point, and consulting as to their chance of safety, that a breeze of wind wafted the smoke that issued from the roof away from them, and they beheld the detachment of troops making up to the house; a loud cheer was given, and attracted the notice of the soldiers. They perceived Easy and his companions; the house was surrounded and entered in an instant.

  The galley-slaves, who were in the house searching for the treasure reported by Don Silvio to be concealed, were captured or killed, and in five minutes the troops had possession. But how to assist those above was the difficulty. The room below was in flames, and burning fiercely. There were no ladders that could reach so high, and there were no means of getting to them. The commandant made signs from below, as if to ask what he was to do.

  “I see no chance,” observed Don Philip mournfully. “Easy, my dear fellow, and you, Gascoigne, I am sorry that the feuds of our family should have brought you to such a dreadful death; but what can be done?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Jack, “unless we could get ropes.”

  “You quite sure, Massa Easy, that all galley-rascals below gone?” asked Mesty.

  “Yes,” replied Easy, “you may see that; look at some of them bound there, under charge of the soldiers.”

  “Den, sar, I tink it high time we go too.”

  “So do I, Mesty; but how?”

  “How? stop a little.”

  “Come, help me, Massa Easy; dis board (for the loft was floored) is loose, come help, all of you.”

  They all went, and with united strength pulled up the board.

  “Now strike like — ! — and drive down de plaster,” said Mesty, commencing the operation.

  In a few minutes they had beaten an opening into one of the rooms below not on fire, pulled up another board, and Mesty having fetched the ladder, they all descended in safety, and, to the astonishment of the commandant of the troops, walked out of the door of the house, those who had been stunned with the stones having so far recovered as to require little assistance.

  The soldiers shouted as they saw them appear, supporting the females. The commanding officer, who was an intimate friend of Don Philip, flew to his arms. The prisoners were carefully examined by Mesty, and Don Silvio was not among them. He might however, be among the dead who were left in the house, which now began to burn furiously. The galley-slaves who were captured amounted in number to forty-seven. Their dead they could not count. The major part of the plunder and the carts were still where they had been drawn up.

  As soon as the culprits had been secured, the attention of the troops was directed to putting out the flames, but their attempts were ineffectual; the mansion was burned to the bare walls, and but little of the furniture saved; indeed, the major part of it had been destroyed in the attack made by Don Silvio and his adherents.

  Leaving directions with Pedro and his people, that the property collected by the miscreants should be restored to the owners, Don Rebiera ordered the horses, and with the whole party put himself under the protection of the troops, who, as soon as they had been refreshed, and taken some repose, bent their way back to Palermo with the galley-slaves, bound and linked together in a long double row.

  They halted when they had gone half-way, and remained for the night. The next day, at noon, Don Rebiera and his family were once more in their palazzo, and our two midshipmen and Mesty took their leave, and repaired on board to make themselves a little less like chimney-sweepers.

  Captain Wilson was not out of the ship. Jack made his report, and then went down below, very much pleased at what had passed, especially as he would have another long yarn for the Governor on his return to Malta.

  Chapter Thirty Two.

  In which our hero and Gascoigne ought to be ashamed of themselves, and did feel what might be called midshipmite compunction.

  The Aurora continued three weeks at Palermo, during which the most active search had been made for the remainder of the galley-slaves, and some few had been captured, but still Don Silvio, and a considerable number, were at large; and it was said that they had returned to the fastnesses in the mountains. Our hero was constantly on shore at Don Rebiera’s house, and, after what had passed, he was now looked upon as soon to become a member of the family. The difference of religion was overlooked by Don Rebiera and the relations — by all but the confessor, Father Thomaso, who now began to agitate and fulminate into the ears of the Donna Rebiera all the pains and penalties attending heretical connection, such as excommunication and utter damnation. The effects of his remonstrances were soon visible, and Jack found that there was constraint on the part of the old lady, tears on the part of Agnes, and all father confessors heartily wished at the devil ten times a day on the part of Don Philip and his brother. At last he wormed the truth out of Agnes, who told her tale, and wept bitterly.

  “Ned, I don’t much like the appearance of things,” observed Jack; “I must get rid of that Father Thomaso.”

  “You’ll find that rather difficult,” observed Gascoigne; “besides, if you get rid of him you would have his place filled up with another.”

  “He has frightened that poor old woman into the dismals, and she has the pains of purgatory on her already. I shall go and talk to Mesty.”

  “How can Mesty help you?”

  “I don’t know, but you can’t; so, for want of better advice, I’ll try the Ashantee.”

  Our hero went to Mesty, and laid the difficult affair open to him.

  “I see,” said Mesty, showing his filed teeth, “you want him skull.”

  “No, I don’t, Mesty; but I want him out of the way.”

  “How dat possible, Massa Easy? — ship sail day after to-morrow. Now ‘pose I ab time, I soon manage all dat. Stop a little.”

  “Confound it! but there’s no stopping,” replied Jack.

  “Suppose, Massa Easy, you get leave go on shore — not come off again.”

  “That will be deserting, Mesty.”

  “By holy poker, I ab it — you go on shore and break your leg.”

  “Break my leg! — break my leave, you mean?”

  “No, Massa Easy — you break your leg — den captain leave you shore, and leave me take care of you.”

  “But why should I break my leg, and how am I to break my leg?”

  “Only pretend break leg, Massa Easy. Go talk Massa Don Philip, he manage all dat. — Suppose man break his leg in seven pieces, it is not possible to take him board.”

  “Seven pieces, Mesty! that’s rather too many. However, I’ll think of this.”

  Jack then went back and consulted Gascoigne, who approved of Mesty’s advice, and thought the scheme feasible.

  “If we could only pretend that we were thrown out of a caricola, you break your leg, a compound fracture of course — I break my arm — both left on shore at sick quarters, with Mesty to take care of us.”

  “Capital indeed,” replied Jack; “I really would not mind it if it really took place; at all events we’ll overturn the caricola.”

  “But shall we get leave the last day?”

  “Yes, it’s two days since I have been on shore, for I have not liked to go to Don Rebiera’s since what Agnes told me. Besides, my clothes are all on shore, and that will be an excuse for a few hours.”

  Our two midshipmen applied for leave the next morning to be off in the afternoon. The first lieutenant gave them permission. They hastened to the hotel, sent for Don Philip, and made him a party to their plan. He readily promised his assistance, for he had resolved that our hero should marry his sister, and was fearful of the effect of his absence, coupled with Friar Thomaso’s influence over his mother. He went to the surgeon of his regiment, who immediately entered into the scheme.