fied by the
exaggeration. It did not altogether conceal the genuine anxiety caused
by so much of the information as might be reasonably believed.

The anxiety was soon realised. When the mists of the winter dawn cleared
up, it was seen that a strong work of granite had been newly thrown up
on the nearest point of the hill, and while the besieged were still
examining the structure, a vivid jet of flame and a puff of smoke darted
from one of the embrasures, and a thirteen-inch shell--the largest
projectile then seen--came booming over their astonished heads. Two more
followed, at short intervals. After the third, an awful report was
heard, a babel of tumult followed, and a gigantic column of smoke
towered up behind them, from the magazine in the old Abbey Church.
Splinters and fragments of stone and timber, mingled with pieces of
powder, barrels, and ghastly members of human carcases were scattered,
as they rose as out of a horrid volcano. The magazine had been struck
and exploded by the great shell, killing no less than sixteen men, and
wounding horribly ten others, including soldiers on guard, armourers,
and workmen who had been collected for the daily labours of the arsenal.
Among the bystanders was Pierre Benoist, who now lay among the ruins,
half crushed by a stone, and who died after intense suffering in the
course of the day.

A panic spread through the garrison; some prepared to fly at once,
others clamoured for surrender. Carteret called them together; and when
the officers and men were all collected on parade, appealed to all
classes, as Lieutenant-Governor of the King whom they had all seen
trusting himself in their protection, and as commander of the royal
forces in the loyal island "I am determined," said the undaunted seaman,
"to keep this castle for His Majesty so long as I have a man left to
fire a gun, and a loblolly boy to fetch the ammunition. The royal
standard still flies over our heads, the sea still lies between us and
France, to bring us Prince Rupert and his fleet. Let those who are
afraid depart--I keep no man against his will. Those who remain will be
all the more trustworthy. Let the gate stand open for the next
half-hour."

His orders were obeyed; but as he probably foresaw, no one dared to
leave openly. By night, however, many of the garrison, who were of the
Jersey Militia, silently departed. The bulk of the garrison, however,
had heard of the storm of Drogheda, and chose what they deemed