CHAPTER XX
I am assaulted and dangerously wounded-suspect O’Donnell, and am confirmed in my opinion—concert a scheme of revenge, and put it into execution—O’Donnell robs his own servant and disappears—make my addresses to a lady, and am miraculously delivered from her snare
One night, at about twelve o’clock, as I returned from visiting a patient at Chelsea, I received a blow on my head from an unseen hand, that stretched me senseless on the ground; and was left for dead with three stabs of a sword in my body. The groans I uttered when I recovered the use of my reason alarmed the people of a solitary alehouse that stood near the spot where I lay: and they were humane enough to take me in, and send for a surgeon, who dressed my wounds, and assured me they were not mortal. One of them pene
