proceeded with caution, for he could scarcely
distinguish the road; his mules, however, seemed to have more sagacity,
and their steps were sure.

On turning the angle of a mountain, a light appeared at a distance, that
illumined the rocks, and the horizon to a great extent. It was evidently
a large fire, but whether accidental, or otherwise, there were no means
of knowing. St. Aubert thought it was probably kindled by some of the
numerous banditti, that infested the Pyrenees, and he became watchful
and anxious to know whether the road passed near this fire. He had arms
with him, which, on an emergency, might afford some protection, though
certainly a very unequal one, against a band of robbers, so desperate
too as those usually were who haunted these wild regions. While many
reflections rose upon his mind, he heard a voice shouting from the road
behind, and ordering the muleteer to stop. St. Aubert bade him proceed
as fast as possible; but either Michael, or his mules were obstinate,
for they did not quit the old pace. Horses' feet were now heard; a man
rode up to the carriage, still ordering the driver to stop; and St.
Aubert, who could no longer doubt his purpose, was with difficulty able
to prepare a pistol for his defence, when his hand was upon the door of
the chaise. The man staggered on his horse, the report of the pistol was
followed by a groan, and St. Aubert's horror may be imagined, when in
the next instant he thought he heard the faint voice of Valancourt.
He now himself bade the muleteer stop; and, pronouncing the name of
Valancourt, was answered in a voice, that no longer suffered him to
doubt. St. Aubert, who instantly alighted and went to his assistance,
found him still sitting on his horse, but bleeding profusely, and
appearing to be in great pain, though he endeavoured to soften the
terror of St. Aubert by assurances that he was not materially hurt, the
wound being only in his arm. St. Aubert, with the muleteer, assisted him
to dismount, and he sat down on the bank of the road, where St. Aubert
tried to bind up his arm, but his hands trembled so excessively that he
could not accomplish it; and, Michael being now gone in pursuit of the
horse, which, on being disengaged from his rider, had galloped off,
he called Emily to his assistance. Receiving no answer, he went to the
carriage, and found her sunk on the seat in a fainting fit. Between the
distress of this circumstance and that of leaving Valancourt