The Englishman became furious.  “The waiter had pocketed it.  The landlord was a knave.  The inn a den of thieves—­it was a d——­d country—­he had been cheated and plundered from one end of it to the other—­but he’d have satisfaction—­he’d drive right off to the police.”

He was on the point of ordering the postilions to turn back, when, on rising, he displaced the cushion of the carriage, and the purse of money fell chinking to the floor.

All the blood in his body seemed to rush into his face.  “D—­n the purse,” said he, as he snatched it up.  He dashed a handful of money on the ground before the pale, cringing waiter.  “There—­be off,” cried he; “John, order the postilions to drive on.”

Above half an hour had been exhausted in this altercation.  The Venetian carriage had loitered along; its passengers looking out from time to time, and expecting the escort every moment to follow.  They had gradually turned an angle of the road that shut them out of sight.  The little army was again in motion, and made a very picturesque appearance as it wound along at the bottom of the rocks; the morning sunshine beaming upon the weapons of soldiery.

The Englishman lolled back in his carriage, vexed with himself at what had passed, and consequently out of humor with all the world.  As this, however, is no uncommon case with gentlemen who travel for their pleasure, it is hardly worthy of remark.

They had wound up from the coast among the hills, and came to a part of the road that admitted of some prospect ahead.

“I see nothing of the lady’s carriage, sir,” said John, leaning over from the coach box.

“Hang the lady’s carriage!” said the Englishman, crustily; “don’t plague me about the lady’s carriage; must I be continually pestered with strangers?”

John said not another word, for he understood his master’s mood.  The road grew more wild and lonely; they were slowly proceeding in a foot pace up a hill; the dragoons were some distance ahead, and had just reached the summit of the hill, when they uttered an exclamation, or rather shout, and galloped forward.  The Englishman was aroused from his sulky revery.  He stretched his head from the carriage, which had attained the brow of the hill.  Before him extended a long hollow defile, commanded on one side by rugged, precipitous heights, covered with bushes and scanty forest trees.  At some distance he beheld the carriage of the Venitians overturned; a numerous gang of desperadoes were rifling it; the young man and his servant were overpowered and partly stripped, and the lady was in the hands of two of the ruffians.