In fact, no man worth anything could have abandoned him, supported as he seemed to be by almost supernatural courage.

Suffering from a violent attack of gout, a malady he had never before experienced, the pacha, at the age of eighty-one, was daily carried to the most exposed place on the ramparts of his castle.

There, facing the hostile batteries, he gave audience to whoever wished to see him.

On this exposed platform he held his councils, despatched orders, and indicated to what points his guns should be directed.

Illumined by the flashes of fire, his figure assumed fantastic and weird shapes.