| Constance Tyrrell saves the life of the Prince of Spain. | |
| P. 64. | |
“A Rodomont to the rescue!” roared Bittern. “Where is Don Philip? Heaven be praised, we are not too late!” he exclaimed, perceiving the Prince, who by this time had regained his feet. “Down with your swords, villains!” he added to the ruffians. “Down with them instantly, or we will hack you to minced-meat.”
“Know you whom you aid?” cried one of the men, regarding him fiercely. “It is the Prince of Spain—the arch-foe of England. But for this foolish damsel we had already destroyed him!”
“Soh! you unblushingly confess your villany?” rejoined Rodomont. “A precious rascal, truly!”
“Ay, and I should have exulted in the deed, if I had accomplished it,” retorted the man. “A day will come when you will regret this interference. Think not to detain me.”
“Stay him! kill him! suffer him not to escape!” shouted Rodomont to his companions.
But, in spite of the many weapons directed against him, the man fought his way desperately towards the passage, and was close upon it, when a cut on the head staggered him, and he was captured and disarmed. He was followed by his two comrades, both of whom were more successful than himself, and effected a retreat. The ruffian who had been engaged with Osbert likewise escaped, having broken away amid the confusion caused by the arrival of Rodomont and his party. Some pursuit was made after the miscreants, but it was ineffectual.
No sooner was Philip freed from his assailants, than he turned to express his gratitude to Constance.
“I owe my life to you,” he said; “nay, more, you have risked your own life to preserve mine. How can I requite you?”