ell that from his face."

The tone of her brother's voice struck Belasez unpleasantly.

"Cress! what dost thou mean?"

"It is a pity that the innocent need suffer with the guilty," answered
Delecresse, contemptuously. "But it mostly turns out so in this world."

Belasez grasped her brother's wrists.

"Cress, thou hast no thought of revenging thyself on Sir Richard of
Gloucester for that boyish trick he once played on thee?"

"I'll be even with him, Belasez. No man--least of all a Christian dog--
shall insult me with impunity."

"O Cress, Cress! Thou must not do it. Hast thou forgotten that
vengeance belongeth to the Holy One, to whom be glory? And for such a
mere nothing as that!"

"Nothing! Dost thou call it nothing for a son of Abraham to be termed a
Jew cur by one of those creeping things of Gentiles? Is not the day at
hand when they shall be our ploughmen and vine-dressers?"

"Well, then," answered Belasez, assuming a playfulness which she was far
from feeling, "when Sir Richard is thy ploughman, thou canst knock his
cap off."

"Pish! They like high interest, these Christians. I'll let them have
it, the other way about."

"Cress, what dost thou mean to do?"

"I mean that he shall pay me every farthing that he owes," said
Delecresse through his clenched teeth. "I cannot have it in gold coins,
perhaps. It will suit me as well in drops of blood,--either from his
veins or from his heart."

"Delecresse, thou _shalt not_ touch the Damsel Margaret, if that be the
meaning of those terrible words."

"I am not going to touch her," replied Delecresse, scornfully, "even
with the tongs he took to my cap. I would not touch one of the vile
insects for all the gold at Norwich!"

"But what dost thou mean?"

"Hold thou thy peace. I was a fool to tell thee."

"What art thou going to do?" persisted Belasez.

"What thou wilt hear when it is done," said Delecresse, walking away.

He left poor Belasez in grief and terror. Some misery, of what sort she
could not even guess, was impending over her poor friend Margaret. How
was it possible to warn her?--and of what was she to be warned?

A few minutes were spent in reflection, and then Belasez's work was
hastily folded, and she went in search of her father. Abraham listened
with a perplexed and annoyed face.

"That boy always lets his hands go before his head! But what can I do,
daughter? In good sooth, I would not willingly see any injury done to