Here the Person who seemed to be the Oppressed, made several Attempts to speak, but they were only inarticulate Sounds, being all interrupted and choaked in their Passage.

Aurelian was sufficiently astonish’d, and would have crept nearer to the Place whence he guessed the Voice to come; but he was got among the Runes of an Old Monastery, and could not stir so silently, but some loose Stones he met with made a rumbling.  The Noise alarm’d both Parties; and as it gave Comfort to the one, it so Terrified the t’other, that he could not hinder the Oppressed from calling for help.  Aurelian fancy’d it was a Woman’s Voice, and immediately drawing his Sword, demanded what was the Matter; he was answered with the Appearance of a Man, who had opened a Dark Lanthorn which he had by him, and came toward him with a Pistol in his Hand ready cock’d.

Aurelian seeing the irresistable advantage his Adversary had over him, would fain have retired; and, by the greatest Providence in the World, going backwards fell down over some loose Stones that lay in his Way, just in that Instant of Time when the Villain fired his Pistol, who seeing him fall, concluded he had Shot him.  The Crys of the afflicted Person were redoubled at the Tragical Sight, which made the Murderer, drawing a Poniard, to threaten him, that the next Murmur should be his last.  Aurelian, who was scarce assured that he was unhurt, got softly up; and coming near enough to perceive the Violence that was used to stop the Injured Man’s Mouth; (for now he saw plainly it was a Man) cry’d out,—­Turn, Villain, and look upon thy Death.—­The Fellow amazed at the Voice, turn’d about to have snatch’d up the Lanthorn from the Ground; either to have given Light only to himself, or to have put out the Candle, that he might have made his Escape; but which of the Two he designed, no Body could tell but himself:  and if the Reader have a Curiosity to know, he must blame Aurelian; who thinking there could be no foul play offered to such a Villain, ran him immediately through the Heart, so that he drop’d down Dead at his Feet, without speaking a Word.  He would have seen who the Person was he had thus happily delivered, but the Dead Body had fallen upon the Lanthorn, which put out the Candle:  However coming up toward him, he ask’d him how he did, and bid him be of good Heart; he was answered with nothing but Prayers, Blessings and Thanks, called a Thousand Deliverers, good Genius’s and Guardian Angels.  And the Rescued would certainly have gone upon his Knees to have worshipped him, had he not been bound Hand and Foot; which Aurelian understanding, groped for the Knots, and either untied them or cut them asunder; but ’tis more probable the latter, because more expeditious.