e of the ways of the most
Christian and civilised city of the Empire!

'Well,' thought Philammon, 'I have come out to see the world, and I
seem, at this rate, to be likely to see enough of it.'

Peter turned at once, and fled as quickly as he had pursued; while
Philammon, considering discretion the better part of valour, followed,
and they rejoined their party breathless.

'There is an armed mob at the end of the street.'

'Assassins!' 'Jews!' 'A conspiracy!' Up rose a Babel of doubtful voices.
The foe appeared in sight, advancing stealthily, and the whole party
took to flight, led once more by Peter, who seemed determined to make
free use, in behalf of his own safety, of the long legs which nature had
given him.

Philammon followed, sulkily and unwillingly, at a foot's pace; but he
had not gone a dozen yards when a pitiable voice at his feet called to
him--

'Help! mercy! Do not leave me here to be murdered! I am a Christian;
indeed I am a Christian!'

Philammon stooped, and lifted from the ground a comely negro-woman,
weeping, and shivering in a few tattered remnants of clothing.

'I ran out when they said the church was on fire,' sobbed the poor
creature, 'and the Jews beat and wounded me. They tore my shawl and
tunic off me before I could get away from them; and then our own people
ran over me and trod me down. And now my husband will beat me, if I ever
get home. Quick! up this side street, or we shall be murdered!'

The armed men, whosoever they were, were close on them. There was no
time to be lost; and Philammon, assuring her that he would not desert
her, hurried her up the side street which she pointed out. But the
pursuers had caught sight of them, and while the mass held on up the
main sight, three or four turned aside and gave chase. The poor negress
could only limp along, and Philammon, unarmed, looked back, and saw the
bright steel points gleaming in the moonlight, and made up his mind to
die as a monk should. Nevertheless, youth is hopeful. One chance for
life. He thrust the negress into a dark doorway, where her colour hid
her well enough, and had just time to ensconce himself behind a pillar,
when the foremost pursuer reached him. He held his breath in fearful
suspense. Should he be seen? He would not die without a struggle at
least. No! the fellow ran on, panting. But in a minute more, another
came up, saw him suddenly, and sprang aside startled. That start saved
Philammon. Quick as a cat, he