At length the tumult began to subside, and Hippolitus could
distinguish what was said. The ruffians agreed to give up the lady in
question to him who had fought for her; and leaving him to his prize,
they all went out in quest of farther prey. The situation of the
unfortunate lady excited a mixture of pity and indignation in
Hippolitus, which for some time entirely occupied him; he revolved the
means of extricating her from so deplorable a situation, and in these
thoughts almost forgot his own danger. He now heard her sighs; and
while his heart melted to the sounds, the farther door of the
apartment was thrown open, and the wretch to whom she had been
allotted, rushed in. Her screams now redoubled, but they were of no
avail with the ruffian who had seized her in his arms; when the count,
who was unarmed, insensible to every pulse but that of a generous
pity, burst into the room, but became fixed like a statue when he
beheld his Julia struggling in the grasp of the ruffian. On
discovering Hippolitus, she made a sudden spring, and liberated
herself; when, running to him, she sunk lifeless in his arms.
Surprise and fury sparkled in the eyes of the ruffian, and he turned
with a savage desperation upon the count; who, relinquishing Julia,
snatched up the sword of the dead ruffian, which lay upon the floor,
and defended himself. The combat was furious, but Hippolitus laid his
antagonist senseless at his feet. He flew to Julia, who now revived,
but who for some time could speak only by her tears. The transitions
of various and rapid sensations, which her heart experienced, and the
strangely mingled emotions of joy and terror that agitated Hippolitus,
can only be understood by experience. He raised her from the floor,
and endeavoured to soothe her to composure, when she called wildly
upon Ferdinand. At his name the count started, and he instantly
remembered the dying cavalier, whose countenance the glooms had
concealed from his view. His heart thrilled with secret agony, yet he
resolved to withhold his terrible conjectures from Julia, of whom he
learned that Ferdinand, with herself, had been taken by banditti in
the way from the villa which had offered them so hospitable a
reception after the shipwreck. They were on the road to a port whence
they designed again to embark for Italy, when this misfortune overtook
them. Julia added, that Ferdinand had been immediately separated from
her; and that, for some hours, she had been confined in the apartment
where Hippolitus found her.
The Count with difficulty concealed his terrible apprehensions for
Ferdinand, and vainly strove to soften Julia's distress. But there was
no time to be lost--they had yet to find a way out of the edifice, and
before they could accomplish this, the banditti might return. It was
also possible that some of the party were left to watch this their
abode during the absence of the rest, and this was another
circumstance of reasonable alarm.