Morgan wished to strike a blow which should appal the whole city. The magazine was abundantly stored with powder. There was a room by its side, into which Morgan drove all his prisoners. Barring them in, he laid a slow match, applied the torch, and with his gang retired. There were a few moments of appalling silence. Then came a roar as of ten thousand thunders. The very earth shook beneath the terrific convulsion. There seemed to be a volcanic eruption of forked flame, rocks, earth, guns, and mangled limbs, and the castle disappeared. Every one of its inmates perished beneath its ruins. The consternation in the city was terrible. There were runnings to and fro, cries of anguish from mothers and maidens, while some were seeking to conceal their treasures by throwing them into the wells or hastily burying them in the cellars and the fields. In the frenzy of the hour the governor found his attempts to rally the citizens utterly in vain. With a few soldiers he threw himself into the second and only remaining castle. The little band here assembled, knowing that no mercy could be expected from the pirates, resolved to make as many of them bite the dust as possible, before they themselves should fall. They therefore opened an incessant and well-directed fire upon their assailants. Near by there was a cloister, where there were priests and nuns. The Spaniards regarded these religious orders with superstitious reverence. Morgan seized them all as prisoners. He ordered his carpenters immediately to make a number of scaling-ladders, so broad that four men could ascend them abreast. He then compelled the ecclesiastics and the nuns to carry the ladders and place them upon the walls of the fort. The armed soldiers followed closely behind, shielded by their bodies. The governor believed that the life of every Spaniard would be sacrificed should they be taken. And he thought it better for both priests and nuns that they should die outright than that they should be left in the hands of the pirates. He therefore opened a vigorous fire upon the approaching assailants, notwithstanding the rampart of living bodies they had so infamously placed before them. The unhappy inhabitants of the cloister cried out piteously to the governor, imploring him to surrender the castle and thus spare their lives. But the governor steeled his heart against their appeal. He fought with desperation. Many of the priests and nuns were shot down. But the pirates, in overpowering numbers, rushed on. They reached the top of the wall. They threw down fire-balls and hand-grenades upon the despairing defenders. When many had perished they leaped down, sword in hand, amidst smoke and flame, and mercilessly slaughtered all the survivors. The heroic governor fought to the last. His wife and children, weeping bitterly and upon their knees, entreated him to yield, hoping that thus his life might be spared.