Edric and Roderick entered the dwelling, for the cry seemed to proceed from its ruins. With hasty steps they traversed the deserted chambers, in which magnificent tapestry hung in tatters from the walls, whilst shattered remnants of valuable pictures and shivered mirrors showed the grandeur that had once been there. All now, however, was desolation! the gilded walls and ceilings looked black with the smoke, and the splendid furniture lay half-burnt and half-destroyed upon the ground. Roderick and Edric did not stop long to survey the misery around them, for they hurried hastily forward to the place from which the cries had proceeded. As they approached, they found they were the accents of a female voice which had attracted them; and advancing a few steps farther, they beheld a sight which filled them with pity.
Beneath a fallen column, in the ruins of which she was so entangled that she could not move, lay, or rather stooped, a beautiful female, bending over the apparently lifeless body of an old man, whose fine features and venerable appearance were sufficient of themselves to create a deep interest in his behalf, but which interest was trebly increased by the evident anxiety painted upon the lovely face of his fair companion.
“Oh, Heavens!” cried she, as soon as they approached; “if you have any mercy or Christian charity in your dispositions, succour this poor old man: those cruel wretches have left him to perish miserably. Though we are strangers, we are human beings, and have committed no crime.”
By this time, Edric and Roderick had arrived near enough to draw her from the column, when they perceived, to their infinite horror, that her arm was broken, and that she was otherwise seriously hurt. “Oh, think not of me!” cried she, finding they wished to succour her before they attended to the old man, who appeared to be dead; “save my father, I am quite well—can I help you?” and heedless of her own pain, the heroic girl assisted in dragging her father from his dangerous situation.
“I fear he is dead,” whispered Roderick.
“Oh! say not so,” shrieked Pauline, for that was her name; “he must, he shall recover. Give him air,” continued she, endeavouring with the one trembling hand, the use of which remained to her, to unfasten his collar. Edric gazed at her with admiration, and, struck with her filial piety and generous self-forgetfulness, he felt an interest for her that he had never before experienced for woman. He assisted her pious cares, and finding the old man still insensible, he bore him in his arms to the banks of the river, and sprinkled him with its waters.
Whilst he was thus engaged, the little fat Dr. Entwerfen, quite out of breath with his exertions, came puffing up, in something between a run and a trot. “Oh! Edric dear!” cried he, gasping for breath, “I’ve found you, have I; but, heyday! what’s the matter? You haven’t been killing anybody, have you?”
“Doctor!” exclaimed Edric, “I am rejoiced to see you; this gentleman has been hurt by some falling ruins—will you bleed him?”
The doctor had studied surgery in his youth, and had since practised frequently for charity; and, being in all things in which his particular foibles were not concerned, a man of sense and feeling, he instantly comprehended the importance of the case, and drawing forth his lancet, after having first bared and bound up the arm of his patient, he bled him. At first the blood dropped slowly, drop by drop; but it soon began to flow more freely, and then the patient, heaving a deep sigh, opened his eyes.
Pauline had been bending over her father with an intenseness of anxiety that repressed every personal feeling; but the moment she heard him sigh, the unnatural strength which had supported her gave way; nature could bear no more, and she fell senseless to the ground.
Everyone flew to her assistance, and Dr. Entwerfen, in particular, was quite in agony. “Dear, pretty creature!” cried he, pushing his wig on one side, in his hurry to raise her up—“Pretty dear! I do declare her arm is broken, and her shoulder dreadful lacerated! Poor thing! I wonder how she could contrive to hold up so long.”
“It is wonderful!” repeated Edric. “It is the triumph of mental energy over bodily suffering.”
“See! she opens her eyes! she revives!” exclaimed Roderick. “Had I not better return to my tent for assistance?”
“There are some soldiers just there,” replied the doctor, pointing to a group of men a few paces diatant; “they came with me to protect me, but I outran them when I saw Edric.”
The soldiers soon formed a litter, upon which M. de Mallet, for that was the name of the old man, and his daughter were conveyed to the tent of Roderick, where proper surgical aid was afforded them. And whilst they are recovering from the injuries they had received, we will take the opportunity of informing our readers of the circumstances which had placed them in so unpleasant a situation.
M. de Mallet was a Swiss noble; and upon the usurpation of the then despot of Switzerland, he had vehemently defended the liberty of his country. The tyrant imprisoned him, and he, with difficulty, made his escape, followed by his only daughter, who was devotedly attached to him, and who, in all his dangers, never quitted his side. She had lost her mother in her earliest youth, and since that period, all her thoughts and cares had been devoted to her father.
To comfort him, formed the sole occupation of her life; and self was quite forgotten in her anxiety for his welfare. After escaping from Switzerland, they had taken refuge in Spain, flattering themselves, that, as it was a free country, they should there be safe and happy. But, alas! they soon found the charms
