ill be done, and who
will be alive, eight-and-forty hours hence. Mind you!--The mob may do
strange things, and they may see still stranger things done. If you once
find yourself safe back here, stay where you are, if you value her life
or your own. And--if you are wise, let the men whom you bring with you
be monks, though it cost your proud stomach--'

'That's not fair, prince! You are telling too much!' interrupted Smid,
while Philammon gulped down the said proud stomach, and answered, 'Be it
so!'

'I have won my bet, Smid,' said the old man, chuckling, as the two
tramped out into the street, to the surprise and fear of all the
neighbours, while the children clapped their hands, and the street
dogs felt it their duty to bark lustily at the strange figures of their
unwonted visitors.

'No play, no pay, Wulf. We shall see to-morrow.'

'I knew that he would stand the trial! I knew he was right at heart!'

'At all events, there is no fear of his ill-using the poor thing, if
he loves her well enough to go down on his knees to his sworn foes for
her.'

'I don't know that,' answered Wulf, with a shake of the head. 'These
monks, I hear, fancy that their God likes them the better the more
miserable they are: so, perhaps they may fancy that he will like them
all the more, the more miserable they make other people. However, it's
no concern of ours.'

'We have quite enough of our own to see to just now. But mind, no play,
no pay.'

'Of course not. How the streets are filling! We shall not be able to see
the guards to-night, if this mob thickens much more.'

'We shall have enough to do to hold our own, perhaps. Do you hear what
they are crying there? "Down with all heathens! Down with barbarians!"
That means us, you know.'

'Do you fancy no one understands Greek but yourself? Let them come ....
It may give us an excuse.... And we can hold the house a week.'

'But how can we get speech of the guards?'

'We will slip round by water. And, after all, deeds will win them better
than talk. They will be forced to fight on the same side as we, and most
probably be glad of our help; for if the mob attacks any one, it will
begin with the Prefect.'

'And then--Curse their shouting! Let the soldiers once find our Amal
at their head, and they will be ready to go with him a mile, where they
meant to go a yard.'

'The Goths will, and the Markmen, and those Dacians, and Thracians, or
whatever the Romans call them. But I hardly t