His lordship seemed
quite changed; he no longer appeared that apathetic being who had so
astonished Aubrey; but as soon as his convalescence began to be rapid,
he again gradually retired into the same state of mind, and Aubrey
perceived no difference from the former man, except that at times he
was surprised to meet his gaze fixed intently upon him, with a smile
of malicious exultation playing upon his lips: he knew not why, but
this smile haunted him. During the last stage of the invalid's
recovery, Lord Ruthven was apparently engaged in watching the tideless
waves raised by the cooling breeze, or in marking the progress of
those orbs, circling, like our world, the moveless sun;--indeed, he
appeared to wish to avoid the eyes of all. Aubrey's mind, by this shock, was much weakened, and that elasticity
of spirit which had once so distinguished him now seemed to have fled
for ever. He was now as much a lover of solitude and silence as Lord
Ruthven; but much as he wished for solitude, his mind could not find
it in the neighbourhood of Athens; if he sought it amidst the ruins he
had formerly frequented, Ianthe's form stood by his side--if he
sought it in the woods, her light step would appear wandering amidst
the underwood, in quest of the modest violet; then suddenly turning
round, would show, to his wild imagination, her pale face and wounded
throat, with a meek smile upon her lips. He determined to fly scenes,
every feature of which created such bitter associations in his mind. He proposed to Lord Ruthven, to whom he held himself bound by the
tender care he had taken of him during his illness, that they should
visit those parts of Greece neither had yet seen. They travelled in
every direction, and sought every spot to which a recollection could
be attached: but though they thus hastened from place to place, yet
they seemed not to heed what they gazed upon. They heard much of
robbers, but they gradually began to slight these reports, which they
imagined were only the invention of individuals, whose interest it was
to excite the generosity of those whom they defended from pretended
dangers. In consequence of thus neglecting the advice of the
inhabitants, on one occasion they travelled with only a few guards,
more to serve as guides than as a defence. Upon entering, however, a
narrow defile, at the bottom of which was the bed of a torrent, with
large masses of rock brought down from the neighbouring precipices,
they had reason to repent their negligence; for scarcely were the
whole of the party engaged in the narrow pass, when they were startled
by the whistling of bullets close to their heads, and by the echoed
report of several guns. In an instant their guards had left them, and,
placing themselves behind rocks, had begun to fire in the direction
whence the report came. Lord Ruthven and Aubrey, imitating their
example, retired for a moment behind the sheltering turn of the
defile: but ashamed of being thus detained by a foe, who with
insulting shouts bade them advance, and being exposed to unresisting
slaughter, if any of the robbers should climb above and take them in
the rear, they determined at once to rush forward in search of the
enemy. Hardly had they lost the shelter of the rock, when Lord Ruthven
received a shot in the shoulder, which brought him to the ground. Aubrey hastened to his assistance; and, no longer heeding the contest
or his own peril, was soon surprised by seeing the robbers' faces
around him--his guards having, upon Lord Ruthven's being wounded,
immediately thrown up their arms and surrendered. By promises of great reward, Aubrey soon induced them to convey his
wounded friend to a neighbouring cabin; and having agreed upon a
ransom, he was no more disturbed by their presence--they being
content merely to guard the entrance till their comrade should return
with the promised sum, for which he had an order. Lord Ruthven's
strength rapidly decreased; in two days mortification ensued, and
death seemed advancing with hasty steps. His conduct and appearance
had not changed; he seemed as unconscious of pain as he had been of
the objects about him: but towards the close of the last evening, his
mind became apparently uneasy, and his eye often fixed upon Aubrey,
who was induced to offer his assistance with more than usual
earnestness--"Assist me! you may save me--you may do more than
that--I mean not my life, I heed the death of my existence as little
as that of the passing day; but you may save my honour, your friend's
honour."--"How? tell me how? I would do any thing," replied Aubrey.--"I
need but little--my life ebbs apace--I cannot explain the
whole--but if you would conceal all you know of me, my honour were
free from stain in the world's mouth--and if my death were unknown
for some time in England--I--I--but life." --"It shall not be
known."--"Swear!" cried the dying man, raising himself with exultant
violence, "Swear by all your soul reveres, by all your nature fears,
swear that, for a year and a day you will not impart your knowledge of
my crimes or death to any living being in any way, whatever may
happen, or whatever you may see. " --His eyes seemed bursting from
their sockets: "I swear!" said Aubrey; he sunk laughing upon his
pillow, and breathed no more. Aubrey retired to rest, but did not sleep; the many circumstances
attending his acquaintance with this man rose upon his mind, and he
knew not why; when he remembered his oath a cold shivering came over
him, as if from the presentiment of something horrible awaiting him. Rising early in the morning, he was about to enter the hovel in which
he had left the corpse, when a robber met him, and informed him that
it was no longer there, having been conveyed by himself and comrades,
upon his retiring, to the pinnacle of a neighbouring mount, according
to a promise they had given his lordship, that it should be exposed to
the first cold ray of the moon that rose after his death. Aubrey
astonished, and taking several of the men, determined to go and bury
it upon the spot where it lay. But, when he had mounted to the summit
he found no trace of either the corpse or the clothes, though the
robbers swore they pointed out the identical rock on which they had
laid the body. For a time his mind was bewildered in conjectures, but
he at last returned, convinced that they had buried the corpse for the
sake of the clothes. Weary of a country in which he had met with such terrible misfortunes,
and in which all apparently conspired to heighten that superstitious
melancholy that had seized upon his mind, he resolved to leave it, and
soon arrived at Smyrna. While waiting for a vessel to convey him to
Otranto, or to Naples, he occupied himself in arranging those effects
he had with him belonging to Lord Ruthven. Amongst other things there
was a case containing several weapons of offence, more or less adapted
to ensure the death of the victim. There were several daggers and
ataghans.