They had continued to travel in this manner for near half an hour, when they arrived at a small village, and soon after stopped at an inn, the best the place afforded. As Theodore lifted Adeline from the chaise, he again entreated her to dismiss her apprehensions, and spoke with a tenderness to which she could reply only by a smile that ill concealed her anxiety. After ordering refreshments, he went out to speak with the landlord; but had scarcely left the room when Adeline observed a party of horsemen enter the inn yard, and she had no doubt these were the persons from whom they fled. The faces of two of them only were turned towards her, but she thought the figure of one of the others not unlike that of the Marquis.

Her heart was chilled, and for some moments the powers of reason forsook her. Her first design was to seek concealments but while she considered the means, one of the horsemen looked up to the window near, which she stood, and speaking to his companions they entered the inn. To quit the room without being observed was impossible; to remain there, alone and unprotected as she was, would almost be equally dangerous. She paced the room in an agony of terror, often secretly calling on Theodore, and often wondering he did not return. These were moments of indescribable suffering. A loud and tumultuous sound of voices now arose from a distant part of the house, and she soon, distinguished the words of the disputants. I arrest you in the king's name, said one; and bid you, at your peril, attempt to go from hence, except under a guard.

The next minute Adeline heard the voice of Theodore in reply. I do not mean to dispute the king's orders, said he, and give you my word of honour not to go without you; but first unhand me, that I may return to that room; I have a friend there whom I wish to speak with. To this proposal they at first objected, considering it merely as an excuse to obtain an opportunity of escaping; but after much altercation and entreaty his request was granted. He sprang forward towards the room where Adeline remained; and while a sergeant and corporal followed him to the door, the two soldiers went out into the yard of the inn to watch the windows of the apartment.

With an eager hand he unclosed the door; but Adeline hastened not to meet him, for she had fainted almost at the beginning of the dispute. Theodore called loudly for assistance; and the mistress of the inn soon appeared with her stock of remedies, which were administered in vain to Adeline, who remained insensible, and by breathing alone gave signs of her existence. The distress of Theodore was in the mean time heightened by the appearance of the officers, who, laughing at the discovery of his pretended friend, declared they could wait no longer. Saying this, they would have forced him from the inanimate form of Adeline, over whom he hung in unutterable anguish, when fiercely turning upon them he drew his sword, and swore no power on earth should force him away before the lady recovered.

The men, enraged by the action and the determined air of Theodore, exclaimed, Do you oppose the king's orders? and advanced to seize him: but he presented the point of his sword, and bade them at their peril approach. One of them immediately drew. Theodore kept his guard, but did not advance. I demand only to wait here till the lady recovers, said he;—you understand the alternative. The man already exasperated by the opposition of Theodore, regarded the latter part of his speech as a threat, and became determined not to give up the point: he pressed forward; and while his comrade called the men from the yard, Theodore wounded him slightly in the shoulder, and received himself the stroke of a sabre on his head.

The blood gushed furiously from the wound: Theodore, staggering to a chair, sunk into it, just as the remainder of the party entered the room; and Adeline unclosed her eyes to see him ghastly pale, and covered with blood. She uttered an involuntary scream, and exclaiming, They have murdered him, nearly relapsed. At the sound of her voice he raised his head, and smiling held out his hand to her. I am not much hurt said he faintly, and shall soon be better, if indeed you are recovered. She hastened towards him, and gave her hand. Is nobody gone for a surgeon? said she with a look of agony. Do not be alarmed, said Theodore, I am not so ill as you imagine. The room was now crowded with people, whom the report of the affray had now brought together; among these was a man who acted as physician, apothecary, and surgeon to the village, and who now stepped forward to the assistance of Theodore.

Having examined the wound, he declined giving his opinion, but ordered the patient to be immediately put to bed; to which the officers objected, alleging that it was their duty to carry him to the regiment. That cannot be done without great danger to his life, replied the doctor; and—

Oh; his life, said the sergeant; we have nothing to do with that, we must do our duty. Adeline, who had hitherto stood in trembling anxiety, could now no longer be silent. Since the surgeon, said she, has declared it his opinion that this gentleman cannot be removed in his present condition without endangering his life, you will remember that if he dies, yours will probably answer it.

Yes, rejoined the surgeon, who was unwilling to relinquish his patient; I declare before these witnesses, that he cannot be removed with safety: you will do well therefore to consider the consequences. He has received a very dangerous wound, which requires the most careful treatment, and the event is even then doubtful; but if he travels, a fever may ensue, and the wound will then be mortal. Theodore heard this sentence with composure, but Adeline could with difficulty conceal the anguish of her heart: she roused all her fortitude to suppress the tears that struggled in her eyes; and though she wished to interest the humanity or to awaken the fears of the men in behalf of their unfortunate prisoner, she dared not to trust her voice with utterance.

From this internal struggle she was relieved by the compassion of the people who filled the room, and becoming clamorous in the cause of Theodore, declared the officers would be guilty of murder if they removed him. Why he must die at any rate, said the sergeant, for quitting his post, and drawing upon me in the execution of the king's orders. A faint sickness seized the heart of Adeline, and she leaned for support against Theodore's chair, whose concern for himself was for a while suspended in his anxiety for her. He supported her with his arm, and forcing a smile, said in a low voice, which she only could hear. This is a misrepresentation; I doubt not, when the affair is inquired into, it will be settled without any serious consequences.