Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 65: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

52 back to consciousness ; and it was this intervening obstacle that had prevented the circumstance of my resuscitation from being observed by the rufians, who were all busied in various ways,— some, I should not forget to observe, in keeping guard over the postilions. The frenzied shrieks of Olivia, the agonizing screams of her mother, and the piteous lamentations of Lord Ringwold, produced such an effect upon me as to make me feel as if I were going mad. Totally forgetting my master, I sprang upon the horse which stood near me, and galloped away from the midst of the scene. It was in frenzied pursuit of Olivia’s ruffian abductor that I thus sped. Not for a moment did I pause to reflect that I had no wea- pon of any kind wherewith to attack the man or to defend myself: I was obeying an impulse which was the effect of the feelings that were so highly wrought by the entire scene, and so in- tensely goaded by the cries and lamentations of distress. Indeed, such was the confusion of my brain— such the wildering hurry of my thoughts—that I failed even immediately to notice that I myself was being pursued: for three or four of the ban- ditti had sprung upon their horses and galloped after me the instant that I shot away from their midst. The fact was brought to my knowledge by the somewhat disagreeably startling intimation of a bullet whistling close by my ear. But I gal- loped on; and as my thoughts grew more col- lected, I reasoned to myself that I might just as well continue my way in the desperate hope of being enabled to render some assistance to the unfortunate Olivia, as to turn round or to halt and encounter almost certain death at the hands of the miscreants who were pursuing me. But another and another bullet whistled by my ears: still I pressed on at the utmost speed of which the horse was capable—for it was a high-spirited animal, and there would have been no need to use whip or spur even if I had been furnished with them. Such was the arrowy velocity with which the horse darted along, that I outstripped my pur- guers, and was rapidly gaining upon the ruffian who had carried off Olivia. He did not seem to take any notice of me; for it would have been easy for him to fire a pistol at me as I overtook him: but he evidently fancied that it was one of his own people who was in hisrear. I was close upon him :—in the beautiful clearness of the night I could distinguish Olivia Sackville supported on his left arm; and as she was motionless—struggling not, nor giving vent to any cry—I concluded that she had swooned. But what should I do to suc- cour her?- how could I contend against that ruffian-abductor, who, like his fellows, was no doubt armed to the teeth? Scarcely had these thoughts flitted through my brain, when my dis- engaged hand happened to rest upon one of the holsters ; to my joy I now discovered that I was the ter of a brace of pistols. That they were loaded, I was tolerably well convinced, as they were evidently ready there for service. At all events I did not wait to ascertain the fact: but taking one in each hand, and yet keeping hold of the reins, I made the horse dash along- side of the animal which the ruffian-abductor bestrode. JOSEPH WILMOT 3; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. The very first glimpse I obtained of him smote me with the conviction that he was none other than Marco Uberti himself. I thought it no barm to shoot such a wretch dead upon the spot,—as it was to deliver an innocent young lady from his loathsome arms; and levelling one of the pistols at his head, I pulled the trigger. But it flashed in the pan; and before I had time to use the other one, the horse suddenly shied and threw me. Al- most at the same instant the pursuing banditti galloped up to the spot: —half-stunned by the fall, I was utterly incapable of offering any resistance, and was accordingly made prisoner. One of the banditti levelled a pistol at my head; and in the twinkling of an eye my mortal career would have ended, when Marco Uberti—for he the abductor proved to be—ejaculated a word the effect of which was the sudden lowering of the pistol. The ban- ditti made signs for me to mount the horse again ; and when I had done so, a cord was tied to my feet under the animal’s belly,—so that I could not, by suddenly throwing myself off again, escape from my captors. The road was pursued for another half-hour, Miss Sackville continuing all the while in a state of unconsciousness. At length we reached a nar row pass, formed by the almost perpendicular walls of two colossal heights: from this pass there was a diverging gorge at a point where one of the heights ceased ; and in a few minutes we reached the entrance of a wood, into which we penetrated. Our way was now continued through an almost total darkness: but the banditti took very good care that I should have no chance of escape, even if I meditated the attempt. A few minutes more brought us abruptly into the midst of a group of cabins or huts, so completely embowered in the wood that I question whether they could be seen in the day-time until thus suddenly come upon. Farther on there was a much higher object, which appeared to be the ruin of some edifice: but I could not at once ascertain if my surmise was cor- rect. I have forborne from breaking the thread of my narrative to explain what my feelings were from the moment that I was captured by these lawless desperadoes: it may however be easily un- derstood that they were of no very pleasurable nature; for though I had been preserved from death at the hands of the miscreant who levelled the pistol at me, I could scarcely hope that my life would be preserved altogether—or even if it were, that I was destined for kind treatment. And then, too, the idea of that beautiful young woman falling into the hands of the unscrupulous monster Marco Uberti,—it was sufficient to harrow the soul with the most frightful forebodings on her account. ' But to resume the thread of my narrative. The little hamlet, or group of huts, was reached in the manner already described: Marco Uberti curtly issued a few orders, which being spoken in the Italian language, I could not understand; and while he passed forward with his lovely and still insensible burthen, the banditti who had me in custody, made me alight at the door of a hut, the cord having been previously unfastened from my feet. From this hut a man with as ruffian a look as that of any of my captors, came forth with a lantern; and having exchanged a few words with his returned comrades, he made way for me to pass EGOMIGIOO (CO)