ey had gained the summit, but not _en force_, and were
only contesting their position there; and a few, more sanguine, of whom
I was one myself, imagined that they were driving the Austrians down the
Apennines, cleaving their ranks, as they went, with their artillery.

Each new crash, every momentary change of direction of the sounds,
favoured this opinion or that, and the excitement of partisanship rose
to an immense height. What added indescribably to the interest of the
scene, was a group of Austrian officers on horseback, who, in their
eagerness to obtain tidings, had ridden beyond their lines, and were
now standing almost within musket range of us. We could see that their
telescopes were turned to the eventful spot, and we gloried to think of
the effect the scene must have been producing on them.

'They've seen enough!' cried one of our fellows, laughing, while he
pointed to the horsemen, who, suddenly wheeling about, galloped back to
their camp at full speed.

'You 'll have the drums beat to arms now; there's little time to lose.
Our cuirassiers will soon be upon them,' cried another, in ecstasy.

'No, but the rain will, and upon us, too,' said Giorgio, who had
now come up; 'don't you see that it's not a battle yonder, it's a
_burrasca_. There it comes.' And as if the outstretched finger of the
dwarf had been the wand of a magician, the great cloud was suddenly torn
open with a crash, and the rain descended like a deluge, swept along by
a hurricane wind, and came in vast sheets of water, while high over our
heads, and moving onward towards the sea, growled the distant thunder.
The great mountain was now visible from base to summit, but not a
soldier, not a gun, to be seen! Swollen and yellow, the gushing torrents
leaped madly from crag to crag, and crashing trees, and falling rocks,
added their wild sounds to the tumult.

There we stood, mute and sorrow-struck, regardless of the seething rain,
unconscious of anything save our disappointment. The hope we built upon
had left us, and the dreary scene of storm around seemed but a type of
our own future! And yet we could not turn away, but with eyes strained
and aching, gazed at the spot from where our succour should have come.

I looked up at the watch-tower, and there was Massena still, his arms
folded, on a battlement; he seemed to be deep in thought. At last
he arose, and, drawing his cloak across his face, descended the
winding-stair outside the tower. His st