hority, he would burn us in Smithfield, as
they did the holy martyrs in Mary's days. He has charged a true and
loyal subject of his Majesty with being a spy. In return we tell _him_
he is the worst of spies--a spy employed by the Pope; and we will teach
him the danger of his employment."

"Hands off, base varlets!" exclaimed De Gondomar, endeavouring to shake
himself free from the rude grasp imposed upon him.

But, in spite of his resistance, he was dragged from the litter, while a
shower of blows from the 'prentices cudgels fell upon his shoulders; and
it is probable he would have experienced much severer treatment, if
indeed he had escaped with life, if at this moment Sir Jocelyn
Mounchensey, sword in hand and followed by Clement Lanyere, had not
burst through the throng.

"Ha! as I suspected," cried De Gondomar. "You, Mounchensey, are the
author and instigator of this outrage, and are come to see that your
tools do their work properly."

"It is false," cried Dick Taverner. "Your Excellency judges of others by
yourself. Sir Jocelyn would have checked us if he could."

"I cannot be expected to believe such an assertion as this," cried De
Gondomar incredulously.

"Let my actions speak for me," cried Mounchensey. "Friends," he called
out, "it is undoubtedly true that I have good ground of complaint
against the Conde de Gondomar--that he has deeply injured me--and that I
will compel him to make me reparation in due season--but I cannot permit
outrage to be offered him; and if aught further be attempted, my arm
will be raised in his defence."

"How! can this be possible!" exclaimed De Gondomar in surprise.

"Why, we are fighting Sir Jocelyn's battles, and he turns round upon
us!" cried a burly 'prentice, while loud murmurs arose from the others,
and the cudgels were again brandished menacingly.

"Leave him to us, Sir Jocelyn," said Dick Taverner.

"Ay, he had better not interfere, of he will come in for his share of
the blows," roared several voices.

"I care not what befals me," shouted Mounchensey. "You shall not injure
a hair of his Excellency's head while I stand by."

And as he spoke he warded off several blows aimed at the ambassador.

"I am with you, Sir Jocelyn," said Clement Lanyere, clearing a space
around them with his long rapier, but avoiding, so far as possible,
doing injury to the 'prentices.

At this critical juncture, and when it seemed likely that, owing to his
chivalrous interference, Si