for help. Apparently it came from the
back of the Doge's tribune, where lay a heap of dead. Gaily dressed folk
who had fallen in the flight and been crushed, not by the earthquake,
but by the feet of their fellows. These blackened and disfigured men
and women they dragged away with much toil, and at last, to their joy,
beneath them all found Sir Geoffrey Carleon. In another few minutes he
must have died, for he was almost suffocated.

Indeed he would certainly have perished with the others had he not been
thrown under a fixed bench, whence one leg projected, which, as they
could see at once, was crushed and broken. They drew him out as gently
as they could and gave him water to drink, whereof, mercifully for
them all, since by now they were utterly parched with thirst, they had
discovered a large silver pitcher full, standing in the corner of a
little ante-chamber to the tribune. It was half hidden with fragments
of fine dresses and even jewels torn from the persons of the lords and
ladies.

"I thank you, friends," he said faintly. "I prayed them to keep seated,
but they went mad and would not listen. Those behind trod down those in
front, till that doorway was choked and I was hurled beneath the bench.
Oh, it was terrible to hear them dying about me and to know that soon I
must follow! This, had it not been for you, I should have done, for my
leg is crushed and there was no air."

Then, having drunk and drunk until even their raging thirst was
satisfied, they found a plank. Laying Sir Geoffrey on it, they departed
from that human shambles, whence the piteous cries of those still
imprisoned there, whom they could not reach, pursued them horribly.

Thus, slowly enough, for there were but three of them, two hampered by
their mail, they bore Sir Geoffrey across the Place of Arms. Save for
the dead and dying, and some ghoul-like knaves who plundered them, by
this time it was almost deserted.

Indeed, a large band of these wretches, who had emerged like wolves from
their lairs in the lowest quarters of the great city, catching sight of
the gold chain Sir Geoffrey wore, ran up with drawn daggers to kill and
rob them.

Seeing them come Grey Dick slipped the black bow from its case and sent
an arrow singing through the heart of the one-eyed villain who captained
them. Thereon the rest left him where he fell and ran off to steal and
slay elsewhere. Then without a word Dick unstrung the bow and once more
laid hold of an en