It was about an hour after my conversation with the sergeant, that an orderly came to summon me to Colonel de Barre's quarters; and with all my haste to obey, I only arrived as the column was formed. The plan of attack was simple enough. Three Voltigeur companies were to attempt the assault of the Monte Faccio, under De Barre; while to engage attention, and draw off the enemy's force, a strong body of infantry and cavalry was to debouch on the Chiavari road, as though to force a passage in that direction. In all that regarded secrecy and dispatch our expedition was perfect: and as we moved silently through the streets, the sleeping citizens never knew of our march. Arrived at the gate, the column halted, to give us time to pass along the walls and descend the glen, an operation which, it was estimated, would take forty-five minutes; at the expiration of this they were to issue forth to the feint attack. At a quick step we now pressed forward toward the angle of the bastion, whence many a path led down the cliff in all directions. Half-a-dozen of our men well-acquainted with the spot, volunteered as guides, and the muskets being slung on the back, the word was given to "move on," the rallying-place being the plateau of the orange trees I have already mentioned. "Steep enough, this," said De Barre to me, as, holding on by briars and brambles, we slowly descended the gorge; "but few of us will ever climb it again." "You think so?" asked I, in some surprise. "Of course, I know it;" said he. "Vallence, who commands the battalions below, always condemned the scheme; rely on it, he's not the man to make himself out a false prophet. I don't pretend to tell you that in our days of monarchy there were neither jealousies nor party grudges, and that men were above all small and ungenerous rivalry; but, assuredly, we had less of them than now. If the field of competition is more open to every one, so are the arts by which success is won; a pre-eminence in a republic means always the rain of a rival. If we fail, as fail we must, he'll be a general." "But why must we fail?" "For every reason; we are not in force: we know nothing of what we are about to attack; and, if repulsed, have no retreat behind us." "Then, why--?" I stopped, for already I saw the impropriety of my question. "Why did I advise the attack?" said he, mildly, taking up my half-uttered question. "Simply because death outside these walls is quicker and more glorious than within them. There's scarcely a man who follows us has not the same sentiment in his heart. The terrible scenes of the last five weeks have driven our fellows to all but mutiny. Nothing, indeed, maintained discipline but a kind of tigerish thirst for vengeance--a hope that the day of reckoning would come round, and in one fearful lesson teach these same whitecoats how dangerous it is to drive a brave enemy to despair."