s one who was not minded
to die unavenged. An arrow whistled through Hugh's cap, lifting it from
his head, and another glanced from the mail on his shoulder. He ground
his teeth with rage, for now none would come within reach of his long
sword.

"Good-bye, friend Dick," he said. "I die charging," and with a cry of "A
Cressi! A Cressi!" he sprang forward.

One leap and Dick was at his side, who had only bided to sheath his bow.
The mob in front melted away before the flash of the white sword and the
gleam of the grey axe. Still they must have fallen, for their pursuers
closed in behind them like hunting hounds when they view the quarry,
and there were none to guard their backs. But once more the shrill voice
cried:

"Help the friends of the Jews! Save those who saved Rebecca and her
children!"

Then again there came a rush of dark-browed men, who hissed and whistled
as they fought.

So fierce was the rush that those who followed them were cut off, and
Dick, glancing back over his shoulder, saw the mad-eyed priest, their
leader, go down like an ox beneath the blow of a leaded bludgeon.
A score of strides and they were out of the range of the firelight;
another score and they were hidden by the gloom in the mouth of one of
the narrow streets.

"Which way now?" gasped Hugh, looking back at the square where in the
flare of the great fires Christians and Jews, fighting furiously, looked
like devils struggling in the mouth of hell.

As he spoke a shock-headed, half-clad lad darted up to them and Dick
lifted his axe to cut him down.

"Friend," he said in a guttural voice, "not foe! I know where you dwell;
trust and follow me, who am of the kin of Rebecca, wife of Nathan."

"Lead on then, kin of Rebecca," exclaimed Hugh, "but know that if you
cheat us, you die."

"Swift, swift!" cried the lad, "lest those swine should reach your house
before you," and, catching Hugh by the hand, he began to run like a
hare.

Down the dark streets they went, past the great rock where the fires
burned at the gates of the palace of the Pope, then along more streets
and across an open place where thieves and night-birds peered at them
curiously, but at the sight of their drawn steel, slunk away. At length
their guide halted.

"See!" he said. "There is your dwelling. Enter now and up with the
bridge. Hark! They come. Farewell."

He was gone. From down the street to their left rose shouts and the
sound of many running feet, but ther