opened his carriage door, and leaped on the ground.

"Hollo! John, Tom, pistols here, my lads, a pretty rencontre this! Stand
by Rosalia, my own self and purse I don't value a grout, but stand the
brunt, lads; here they come--oh, that I had met them at Waterloo!"

This attack perplexed the thoughts of the poor baronet. He regarded it as
a romance in which he was to become the hero. But his present situation
did not allow him the fascination of a dream. The brigands advanced from
their concealment, and their chief, who seemed a most pleasant and polite
scoundrel, commanded his men to inspect the luggage of the travellers.

"Humph! and is that all?" growled the baronet.

"I want a thousand crowns," said the chief, in a gentle tone, "you may
then proceed."

"Humph! and won't five hundred do?"

"I insist!" returned the brigand, placing his hand on his sword!

This menace was enough. It produced an awful consternation in the
countenance of the Englishman. He, dear man, felt his heart quake within
him, as he paid the brigand his enormous demand. But a second trial was
reserved for him--he turned to his carriage--his daughter was not there!
where could she be? He heard a laugh, and on raising his head, saw the
identical object of his care! She waved her delicate white handkerchief
from the steeps above, while an Italian officer stood beside her laughing
with all his might. The suspicions of the father were realized. He was the
tall intriguing scamp who had charmed the eyes of Rosalia at the inn!