He had hardly spoken when the governor of the barbarous isle, in mighty wrath and indignation, fitted a long sharp arrow to his bow, and drawing himself back and extending his left arm, he drew the cord to his ear with his right. The arrow flew with so good an aim and with such fury that it entered the mouth of Bradamiro,--stopped at once his utterance, and separated his soul from his body. Whereat all present remained astonished, surprised and as it were in suspense--but the deed, bold as it was sure, was not done with such impunity but that the perpetrator received in the same manner the reward of his daring act; for a son of Corsicurbo, the barbarian who was overwhelmed in the storm when Periander escaped, more light of foot than the arrow from the bow, in two bounds reached the governor, and with his uplifted arm plunged into his breast a dagger, which, although of stone, was more sharp and piercing than if it had been of steel. The governor closed his eyes in everlasting night, and thus by his death Bradamiro was avenged. The greatest tumult ensued among the friends and relations of both; all flew to arms, and soon, incited by vengeance and rage, the arrows flew on all sides, dealing death far and wide. When the arrows were spent, as hands and poignards did not fail, they fell upon each other without respect of kindred. The son respected not the father nor the brother his brother, and as among them were many enemies who owed one another grudges for former injuries, they fell to work tearing to pieces with their nails, and cutting with their knives, without any one attempting to restore peace. Now whilst arrows and blows, and wounds and death, were busy all around, the aged Clelia, the interpretess damsel, Periander and Auristella, all remained huddled close together full of terror and dismay. In the midst of the confusion a number of barbarians who belonged to the party of Bradamiro, separated themselves from the combat and flew to set fire to a wood not far off, where stood the dwelling of the governor. The trees began to burn, and the wind favoured the flames, till the smoke and fire increased to such a height, that it seemed as if every one would soon be first blinded and then burnt. The night came on--very dark and dismal, the groans of the dying, the cries of the fierce combatants, the cracking sound of the fire, carried no terror into the hearts of the barbarians, which were still breathing nothing but rage and vengeance, but it filled with awe and fear those of the miserable little cluster of persons, who knew not what to do or how to find a refuge. But in this hour of alarm and peril, Heaven forgot not to send succour of so new and remarkable a kind, that it appeared to them a miracle.