CHAPTER XV.
CONTINUATION, AND CONCLUSION, OF THE FORCE OF FRIENDSHIP.
Success had not attended the endeavours of the servants of Donna Theodora to prevent her being carried away; but they had at least opposed it with courage, and their resistance had been fatal to some of the companions of Alvaro Ponza. Among others, whose wounds had not permitted them to follow their comrades, there was a man, stretched almost lifeless on the sand, whom they recognized as one of Alvaro's own attendants. Perceiving that he still breathed, they carried him to the house, and spared no pains to restore him to his senses. In this they at last succeeded, although the quantity of blood which had escaped from his numerous wounds had reduced his stream of life to its lowest ebb, and left him extremely weak. To induce him to speak, they promised to take every care to prolong his days, and not to deliver him into the hands of justice, provided that he would inform them of the place to which his master had designed to take the Donna Theodora.
Gratified by these assurances, although the state to which he was reduced left him but small hope to profit by their realization, he rallied all his remaining strength, and, with a faltering voice, confirmed by his confession the information that Don Fabricio had received. He added, however, that Don Alvaro designed to conduct the widow of Cifuentes to Sassari, in the island of Sardinia, where he had a relation whose protection and power promised him a safe asylum.
The deposition of the dying man, for he expired a few hours afterwards, raised Mendoza and the Toledan from complete despair; and as their stay at Donna Theodora's seat was now useless, they at once returned to Valencia. After debating for some time on the steps most expedient to be taken, they resolved to seek their common enemy in his chosen retreat, and in a few days embarked, without attendants, at Denia, for Port Mahon, not doubting that they would there find some means of transport to the island of Sardinia. It so happened that scarcely had they reached their destined port, when they learned that a vessel freighted for Cagliari was about to sail, and in it they immediately secured a passage.
The vessel left the island of Minorca with breezes friendly to their hopes; but five or six hours after their departure there came on a calm, and night brought with it winds directly in their teeth; so that they were obliged to tack about and wait for a favourable change. Three days were thus passed in sailing without progress; when, on the fourth, about two hours after noon, they discovered a strange sail, all its canvas spread, and bearing down directly upon them. At first they took it for a merchantman, bound for the shores they steered from; but observing that it came within the range of cannon-shot without showing its colours, they began to fear it was a corsair.
They were not deceived: it was a Tunisian pirate, which approached them in full expectation that the Christians would yield without a blow. As it came near enough, however, for the corsairs to discern what was passing on board of their expected prey, and to observe that the sails were reefed and the guns run out, they guessed that the affair was likely to turn out more seriously than they had expected. They therefore shortened sail, wore round, hurriedly cleared the deck, and prepared for action.