more to serve as guides than as a defence. Upon entering, however, a
narrow defile, at the bottom of which was the bed of a torrent, with
large masses of rock brought down from the neighbouring precipices,
they had reason to repent their negligence; for scarcely were the
whole of the party engaged in the narrow pass, when they were startled
by the whistling of bullets close to their heads, and by the echoed
report of several guns. In an instant their guards had left them, and,
placing themselves behind rocks, had begun to fire in the direction
whence the report came. Lord Ruthven and Aubrey, imitating their
example, retired for a moment behind the sheltering turn of the
defile: but ashamed of being thus detained by a foe, who with
insulting shouts bade them advance, and being exposed to unresisting
slaughter, if any of the robbers should climb above and take them in
the rear, they determined at once to rush forward in search of the
enemy. Hardly had they lost the shelter of the rock, when Lord Ruthven
received a shot in the shoulder, which brought him to the ground.
Aubrey hastened to his assistance; and, no longer heeding the contest
or his own peril, was soon surprised by seeing the robbers' faces
around him--his guards having, upon Lord Ruthven's being wounded,
immediately thrown up their arms and surrendered.

By promises of great reward, Aubrey soon induced them to convey his
wounded friend to a neighbouring cabin; and having agreed upon a
ransom, he was no more disturbed by their presence--they being
content merely to guard the entrance till their comrade should return
with the promised sum, for which he had an order. Lord Ruthven's
strength rapidly decreased; in two days mortification ensued, and
death seemed advancing with hasty steps. His conduct and appearance
had not changed; he seemed as unconscious of pain as he had been of
the objects about him: but towards the close of the last evening, his
mind became apparently uneasy, and his eye often fixed upon Aubrey,
who was induced to offer his assistance with more than usual
earnestness--"Assist me! you may save me--you may do more than
that--I mean not my life, I heed the death of my existence as little
as that of the passing day; but you may save my honour, your friend's
honour."--"How? tell me how? I would do any thing," replied Aubrey.--"I
need but little--my life ebbs apace--I cannot explain the
whole--but if you would conceal all you know of me, my honour