The other brigand
now dropped the lady, and drawing a long pistol from his belt, fired on
his adversary with deliberate aim; the ball passed between his left arm
and his side, slightly wounding the arm. The Englishman advanced and
discharged his remaining pistol, which wounded the robber, but not
severely. The brigand drew a stiletto, and rushed upon his adversary,
who eluded the blow, receiving merely a slight wound, and defending
himself with his pistol, which had a spring bayonet. They closed with
one another, and a desperate struggle ensued. The robber was a
square-built, thick-set, man, powerful, muscular, and active. The
Englishman, though of larger frame and greater strength, was less
active and less accustomed to athletic exercises and feats of
hardihood, but he showed himself practised and skilled in the art of
defence. They were on a craggy height, and the Englishman perceived
that his antagonist was striving to press him to the edge.
A side glance showed him also the robber whom he had first wounded,
Scrambling up to the assistance of his comrade, stiletto in hand. He
had, in fact, attained the summit of the cliff, and the Englishman saw
him within a few steps, when he heard suddenly the report of a pistol
and the ruffian fell. The shot came from John, who had arrived just in
time to save his master.
The remaining robber, exhausted by loss of blood and the violence of
the contest, showed signs of faltering. His adversary pursued his
advantage; pressed on him, and as his strength relaxed, dashed him
headlong from the precipice. He looked after him and saw him lying
motionless among the rocks below.
The Englishman now sought the fair Venetian. He found her senseless on
the ground. With his servant's assistance he bore her down to the road,
where her husband was raving like one distracted.
The occasional discharge of fire-arms along the height showed that a
Retreating fight was still kept up by the robbers. The carriage was
righted; the baggage was hastily replaced; the Venetian, transported
with joy and gratitude, took his lovely and senseless burthen in his
arms, and the party resumed their route towards Fondi, escorted by the
dragoons, leaving the foot soldiers to ferret out the banditti. While
on the way John dressed his master's wounds, which were found not to be
serious.
Before arriving at Fondi the fair Venetian had recovered from her
swoon, and was made conscious of her safety and of the mode of her
deliverance. Her transports were unbounded; and mingled with them were
enthusiastic ejaculations of gratitude to her deliverer. A thousand
times did she reproach herself for having accused him of coldness and
insensibility. The moment she saw him she rushed into his arms, and
clasped him round the neck with all the vivacity of her nation.
