ver of the darkness, and renew the assault before
the garrison had time to throw up retrenchments. It was in vain his
companions besought him to withdraw, to leave the fight to them, and not
to risk a life so precious to the community. "And how can an old man
like me," he said, "end his life more gloriously, than when surrounded
by his brethren and fighting the battles of the Cross?"[1359]

[Sidenote: THE TURKS REPULSED.]

La Valette was right in his conjecture. No sooner had the darkness
fallen, than the Turkish host, again under arms, came surging on across
the ruins of the rampart towards the breach. But it was not under cover
of the darkness; for the whole bay was illumined by the incessant flash
of artillery, by the blaze of combustibles, and the fiery track of the
missiles darting through the air. Thus the combat was carried on as by
the light of day. The garrison, prepared for the attack, renewed the
scenes of the morning, and again beat off the assailants, who, broken
and dispirited, could not be roused, even by the blows of their
officers, to return to the assault.[1360]

On the following morning, La Valette caused _Te Deum_ to be sung in the
church of St. Lawrence, and thanks to be offered at the throne of grace
for their deliverance. And if the ceremonies were not conducted with the
accustomed pomp of the order of St. John, they were at least
accompanied, says the chronicler, who bore his part in them, by the
sacrifice of contrite hearts,--as was shown by the tears of many a man,
as well as woman, in the procession.[1361]

There was indeed almost as much cause for sorrow as for joy. However
successful the Christians had been in maintaining their defence, and
however severe the loss they had inflicted on the enemy, they had to
mourn the loss of some of their most illustrious knights, while others
lay disabled in their beds. Among the latter was De Monti, admiral of
the order, now lying seriously ill of wounds received in the defence of
St. Michael, of which he was commander. Among the deaths was one which
came home to the bosom of La Valette. A young cavalier, his nephew, had
engaged in a perilous enterprise with a comrade of his own age. The
handsome person and gilded armor of the younger La Valette made him a
fatal mark for the enemy;[1362] and he fell, together with his friend,
in the ditch before the bastion, under a shower of Turkish bullets. An
obstinate struggle succeeded between Christians and Turks