him letters from the pasha. The secretary, who was warmly attached to D’Aubusson, and who felt that his present disgrace had been richly deserved, pretended to fall in with the views of the deserters. This was merely to enable him to discover everything, having succeeded in which he at once revealed the whole conspiracy to his master. The immediate arrest of the would-be assassins followed the disclosure, and after trial they were both sentenced to death. The excitement of the popu] ace upon learning this intended treachery was such that they rushed upon the criminals and, forestalling the just sentence of the law, tore them in pieces in the fury of the moment.
Foiled in his cowardly attempt at a cold-blooded assassination, Paleologus had once more recourse to open warfare. Disheartened at the ill-success of his efforts against the Jews’ quarter he returned to his original point of attack, the tower of St. Nicholas. To facilitate the approach of his assaulting columns he constructed a large floating bridge, which was to stretch from the point in front of the church of St. Anthony to the rocks at the base of the fort, and wide enough to admit of six men advancing abreast. Under cover of the darkness a Turk succeeded in fixing an anchor at the extremity of the mole beneath the surface, to the ring of which he secured a rope, intending by its means to warp the bridge across the water. This operation, however, had not been carried out as secretly as the Turk imagined. An English sailor, called Roger Gervase (or more probably Jervis), saw what was being done. Watching for the departure of the Turk, he as soon as the coast was clear detached the rope, removed the anchor, and carried it in triumph to the Grand-Master. D’Aubusson was so pleased with the promptitude and decision of the gallant tar as he stood dripping but radiant before him, with his ponderous trophy still in his grasp, that he rewarded him with a present of 200 gold crowns.
The Turks having completed the construction of their bridge made arrangements for an immediate assault. The former attack, the failure of which still rankled in their bosoms, had been undertaken in broad daylight; they determined, therefore, on this occasion to try the effect of a night surprise.
