s left hand he thrust a blazing torch into the grey beard of
Malise.

There was a quick snort of anger. Then, with a burst of relief and
pleasure, came the words, "By God, I'll clout him now!" The sound of a
mighty buffet succeeded, something cracked like a broken egg, and the
clever-tongued young clerk went down on the paving-stones with a
clatter, as his torch extinguished itself in the gutter and his sword
flew ringing across the street.

"Come on, lads--they have struck the first blow. We are safe from the
law. Kill them every one!" cried his companions, advancing to the
attack with a confidence born of numbers and the consciousness of
fighting on their own ground.

But ere they reached the four men who had waited so quietly, the Scots
had gathered their cloaks about their left arms in the fashion of
shields, and a blade, long and stout, gleamed in every right hand.
Still no armour was to be seen, and, though somewhat disconcerted, the
assailants were by no means dismayed.

"Come on--let us revenge De Sille!" they cried.

"Lord, Lord, this is gaun to be a sair waste o' guid steel," grumbled
Malise; "would that I had in my fist a stieve oaken staff out of
Halmyre wood. Then I could crack their puir bit windlestaes o' swords,
without doing them muckle hurt! Laddies, laddies, be warned and gang
decently hame to your mithers before a worse thing befall. James, ye
hae their ill-contrived lingo, tell them to gang awa' peaceably to
their naked beds!"

For, having vented his anger in the first buffet, Malise was now
somewhat remorseful. There was no honour in such fighting. But all
unwarned the youthful roisterers of Paris advanced. This was a nightly
business with them, and indeed on such street robberies of strangers
and shopkeepers the means of continuing their carousings depended.

It chanced that at the first brunt of the attack Sholto, who was at
the other end of the line from his father, had to meet three opponents
at once. He kept them at bay for a minute by the quickness of his
defence, but being compelled to give back he was parrying a couple of
their blades in front, when the third got in a thrust beneath his arm.
It was as if the hostile sword had stricken a stone wall. The flimsy
and treacherous blade went to flinders, and the would-be robber was
left staring at the guard suddenly grown light in his hand.

With a quick backward step, Sholto slashed his last assailant across
the upper arm, effectually