orever honored in the eyes of its inhabitants,
by having been the headquarters of the Hero of Italy. An inquiry of the
traveller's concerning a countryman of whom he was in search, created a
sensation at the little inn, and elicited the story of the battle, one
incident of which was still the all-absorbing topic with the excited
villagers. This was the incident which one of the group related with the
dramatic effects of a language composed almost as much of gesture as of
words, and an audience as picturesque as could well be conceived.

While the fight was raging on the distant plain, a troop of marauding
Croats dashed into the town, whose defenders, although outnumbered,
contested every inch of ground, while slowly driven back toward the
convent, the despoiling of which was the object of the attack. This
convent was both hospital and refuge, for there were gathered women and
children, the sick, the wounded, and the old. To secure the safety of
these rather than of the sacred relics, the Italians were bent on
holding the town till the reinforcement for which they had sent could
come up. It was a question of time, and every moment brought nearer the
destruction of the helpless garrison, trembling behind the convent
walls. A brutal massacre was in store for them if no help came; and
remembering this the red-shirted Garibaldians fought as if they well
deserved their sobriquet of "Scarlet Demons."

Help did come, not from below, but from above. Suddenly a cannon
thundered royally, and down the narrow street rushed a deathful
defiance, carrying disorder and dismay to the assailants, joy and wonder
to the nearly exhausted defenders. Wonder, for well they knew the gun
had stood silent and unmanned since the retreat of the enemy two days
before, and this unexpected answer to their prayers seemed Heaven-sent.
Those below looked up as they fought, those above looked down as they
feared, and midway between all saw that a single man held the gun. A
stalwart figure, bareheaded, stern faced, sinewy armed, fitfully seen
through clouds of smoke and flashes of fire, working with a silent
energy that seemed almost superhuman to the eyes of the superstitious
souls, who believed they saw and heard the convent's patron saint
proclaiming their salvation with a mighty voice.

This belief inspired the Italians, caused a panic among the Croats, and
saved the town. A few rounds turned the scale, the pursued became the
pursuers, and when the re