They walked with hasty steps, enjoying, by anticipation, the happiness of recovered freedom; but fortune, not even now disposed to favour these unhappy lovers, plunged them into grief more dire than they had yet experienced, and of a nature that they least expected.
They had already left the garden, and were advancing to the shore, where the sloop awaited them, when a man whom they took for an accomplice in their escape, and of whom, therefore, they had no suspicion, came upon Don Juan, sword in hand, and thrust it in his breast. "Perfidious Alvaro Ponza!" he exclaimed, "it is thus that Don Fabricio de Mendoza punishes a base seducer: you deserve not that I should attack you openly as an honest man."
The Toledan could not resist the force of the blow, which stretched him on the earth; and, at the same moment, Donna Theodora, whom he supported, struck with surprise, with grief and fear, fell in a swoon beside him. "Ah! Mendoza," cried Don Juan, "what have you done? It is your friend whose bosom you have pierced!" "Gracious Heaven!" exclaimed Don Fabricio, "is it possible that I have assassinated——" "I pardon you my death," interrupted Zarata; "destiny is alone to blame, or rather it has so willed it, to end our misfortunes. Yes! my dear Mendoza, I die contented, since I restore to your hands the Donna Theodora, who will convince you that my friendship for you has never belied itself for an instant."
"Too generous friend," said Don Fabricio, prompted by a feeling of despair, "you shall not die alone; the same point which wounded you shall punish your assassin: if my error may excuse my crime, it cannot console me for its committal." As he spoke, he turned his sword against his breast, plunged it therein nearly to the hilt, and fell upon the body of Don Juan, who fainted less from loss of blood, than from horror at the frenzy of his friend.
Francisco and the renegade, who were not ten paces from the spot, and who had their reasons for not having defended the slave Alvaro, were amazed to hear the last words of Don Fabricio, and still more so to witness his last act. They had heard enough, however, to know that he had been mistaken, and that the wounded pair were friends, instead of deadly enemies, as they had believed. They now therefore hastened to their assistance; but, finding them both senseless, as also the Donna Theodora, they were at a loss how to proceed. Francisco advised that they should content themselves with bearing off the lady, leaving the two cavaliers on the shore; where, according to him, if they were not already dead, they would soon be so. The renegade, however, was not of this opinion: he said that it would be cruel to abandon the two unfortunates; that their wounds were probably not mortal, and that he would look to them when on board his vessel, where he had been provident enough to stow away all the implements of his ancient trade.
To this, Francisco made no objection; so, as they both agreed that there was no inducement to stay where they were, by the assistance of some slaves, they carried the unhappy widow of Cifuentes, and her still more unfortunate lovers, to the boat, and soon joined their ship. There, no time was lost in spreading the sails; while some upon their knees poured forth to Heaven the most fervent prayers which fear could suggest, that they might escape the cruisers of the Dey.
