up, but groaping with his hands, met with the shattered flask on the top of the stairs, which tumbling down to the bottom, the noise of the fractur’d glass perfectly resembled the gingling of Chains. It is impossible for me to characterize their fear and fright, both which together had so totally routed what courage they had within them, that a Corporal Pygmie with two files of revolted Cranes would at that time have taken them all Prisoners. Our _Mulletteer_ fearing by this second alarm that he should now infallibly wake some of the house; who finding him in that condition would undoubtedly suspect him of some vilanous Design, therefore thought it his safest way to march down again, and lay his Carkass any where till it was day, Being half way down the stairs, he could hear the voice of one crying, _Il Diabolo, Il Diabolo_, The Devil, the Devil, repeating it often, which so affrighted him that he thought to have returned back, but hearing the noise go from him, with the trampling of feet on the stones as in flight, he boldly pursued them, _Questo Diabolo_, what Devil, and where, I am none, but I will see what Devil you are. These were three Rogues which had a long time design’d to rob this house, not living far off it; who were well acquainted with this house, and had heard that it was visited by Phantasms; now as they were about to mount the stairs they met with the flask, and broken glass in it, which frighted them away from that enterprize as effectually, as if the Devil with the gingling his Chains had come to meet them.