the darkness was defeated by his prompt resistance.

The bombardment continued unceasingly, and on August 18 another
desperate assault was made, which, like the other, failed. Yet the
position of the besieged was becoming desperate: dwindling daily
in numbers, they were becoming too feeble to hold the long line of
fortifications; but, when his council suggested the abandonment of Il
Borgo and Senglea and withdrawal to St. Angelo, La Valette remained
obdurate.

Why the Viceroy of Sicily had not brought help will always remain a
mystery. Possibly the orders of his master, Philip II. of Spain, were
so obscurely worded as to put on his own shoulders the burden of a
decision; a responsibility which he was unwilling to discharge because
the slightest defeat would mean exposing Sicily to the Turk. He had
left his own son with La Valette, so he could hardly be indifferent to
the fate of the fortress, and Malta in Turkish hands would soon have
proved a curse to Sicily and Naples. Whatever may have been the cause
of his delay, the Viceroy hesitated till the indignation of his own
officers forced him to move, and then the battle had almost been won
by the unaided efforts of the Knights. On August 23 came yet
another grand assault, the last serious effort, as it proved, of the
besiegers; it was thrown back with the greatest difficulty, even the
wounded taking part in the defence. The plight of the Turkish forces,
however, was now desperate. With the exception of St. Elmo, the
fortifications were still intact. By working night and day the
garrison had repaired the breaches, and the capture of Malta seemed
more and more impossible. Those terrible summer months with the
burning sirocco had laid many of the troops low with sickness in their
crowded quarters; ammunition and food were beginning to run short, and