bed he rebuked his officers severely that a temporary breastwork, huddled
together by boors and burghers in the midst of a siege, should prove an
insurmountable obstacle to men who had carried everything before them.
The morrow was the festival of Saint Peter and Saint Paul, and it was
meet that so sacred a day should be hallowed by a Christian and Apostolic
victory. Saint Peter would be there with, his keys to open the gate;
Saint Paul would lead them to battle with his invincible sword. Orders
were given accordingly, and the assault was assigned for the following
morning.

Meantime, the guards were strengthened and commanded to be more than
usually watchful. The injunction had a remarkable effect. At the dead
of night, a soldier of the watch was going his rounds on the outside of
the breastwork, listening, if perchance he might catch, as was not
unusual, a portion of the conversation among the beleaguered burghers
within. Prying about on every side, he at last discovered a chink in the
wall, the result, doubtless, of the last cannonade, and hitherto
overlooked. He enlarged the gap with his fingers, and finally made an
opening wide enough to admit his person. He crept boldly through, and
looked around in the clear starlight. The sentinels were all slumbering
at their posts. He advanced stealthily in the dusky streets. Not a
watchman was going his rounds. Soldiers, burghers, children, women,
exhausted by incessant fatigue, were all asleep. Not a footfall was
heard; not a whisper broke the silence; it seemed a city of the dead.
The soldier crept back through the crevice, and hastened to apprise his
superiors of his adventure.

Alexander, forthwith instructed as to the condition of the city, at once
ordered the assault, and the last wall was suddenly stormed before the
morning broke. The soldiers forced their way through the breach or