cending into the valley beyond.

Considering it was a feast day the streets were strangely deserted. He
met a few old men and women in festal garb and supposed that the
majority of the people were at the shrines in which Kieff abounds. He
passed through the poorer Jewish quarter, and did not remember the
peasant's warning not to go into the Street of Black Mud until he had
turned into that thoroughfare.

Long before he had reached the street he heard the roar of the crowd,
and knew that some kind of trouble was brewing. The street was filled
with knots of men and women, and their faces by common attraction, were
turned in one direction. The focal point was a densely packed crowd
which swayed toward the gateway of a tall, grim-looking house, which he
recognized as the home of the millionaire, Kensky.

The roar intensified to a continuous shriek of malignant hate. He saw
sticks and fists brandished and heard above the scream of frenzied women
the deep-throated "Kill! Death to the Jew!" which was not unfamiliar to
one who knew Kieff in moments of religious excitement. It was no
business of his, and he drew his horse to the side of the street and
watched, wondering what part the black-bearded Russian priests, who were
in force and who seemed to form the centre of each knot of idlers, were
playing in this act of persecution.

On the outskirts of the crowd he observed a green and gold coat, and,
its wearer turning his head, he recognized him as the swarthy menial who
had ridden behind the Grand Duchess. He was as violent and as energetic
as the most lawless, and seemed engaged in pushing men into the crowd
and dragging forward hesitant bystanders to swell the throng which was
pressing about the iron gates of the building.

And then Malcolm saw something which brought his heart to his mouth, a
white hand raised from above the bobbing black heads, a hand raised in
appeal or command. Instinctively he knew its owner and spurred his horse
into the throng, sending the people flying in all directions. There was
a small clear space immediately before the door which enabled him to see
the two chief actors in the drama long before he was within hailing
distance.

The space was caused by a dead horse, as he afterwards discovered, but,
for the moment, his eyes were fixed on the girl who stood with her back
to the grille, shielding with her frail body a little old man,
white-bearded and bent, who crouched behind her outstretched arm