t
the door was locked, and she could only go in as he had come out. Still,
she must go.

He thought all this between one stride and another--and other thoughts
thick as leaves falling in a wind. Then, "Fools!" he thundered, and had
her down the steps, and was dragging her towards her door before they
awoke from their surprise, or thought of attacking him. The woman with
the big Bible had had her fill--though he had not struck her but her
stick--and sat where she had fallen in the mud. The other woman hugged
herself in pain. The man was in no hurry to be up, having once felt
Claude's knee in the small of his back. For a few seconds no one moved;
and when they recovered themselves he was half-way to the Royaumes'
door.

They snatched up mud, then, and flung it after the pair with shrill
execrations. And the woman who had picked up the stick hurled it in a
frenzy after them, but wide of the mark. A dozen stones fell round them,
and the cry of "The Witch! The Witch!"--cry so ominous, so cruel, cry
fraught with death for so many poor creatures--followed hard on them.
But they were within five paces of the door now, and if he could lift
her to the window----

"The key," she murmured in his ear. "The key is in the lock!"

She had her wits, too, then, and her courage! He felt a glow of pride,
his arm pressed her more closely to him. "Unlock it!" he answered, and
leaving her to it, having now no fear that she would faint or fall, he
turned on the rabble with his bar.

But they were for words, not blows, a rabble of cowards and women. They
turned tail with screams and fled to a distance, more than one falling
in the sudden _volte-face_. He made no attempt to pursue them along the
rampart, but looked behind him, and found that she had opened the door.
She had taken out the key, and was waiting for him to enter.

He went up the steps, entered, and she closed the door quickly. It shut
out in a moment the hootings of the returning women. While she locked it
on the inside, he raised the bars and slid them into their places. Then,
not till then, he turned to her.

Her face averted, she was staunching the blood which trickled from her
cheek. "It was the child's mother!" she faltered, a sob in her voice. "I
went to her. I thought--that she would believe. Get me some water,
please! I must go upstairs. My mother will be frightened."

He was astonished: on fire himself, with every pulse beating madly, he
was prepared for her to fa