like infuriated
animals on the off chance of Captain Jeremy Rofflash rewarding them for
their services.

"You'd better show these ruffians a clean pair of heels," whispered a
friendly voice in the young man's ear. "To Winchester Stairs--now's your
chance before yonder bully's on his feet."

It was good advice and Lancelot Vane, the young man, budding poet and
playwright, who had found himself involved in a dangerous squabble,
which might mean his death, over a girl whom he had only seen for a few
minutes, had the sense to take it. But it was no easy task to extricate
himself. A burly ruffian was approaching him with arm uplifted and
whirling a bludgeon. Vane caught the fellow a blow in the waist and he
immediately collapsed. Before the prostrate man could get his wind, Vane
darted through the Traitors' Gate and racing towards the Borough with a
score or so of the rabble after him, darted into the first opening he
came to.

CHAPTER V

"MANY A MAN WOULD GIVE A HANDFUL OF GUINEAS FOR A KISS FROM SALLY
SALISBURY"

The fugitive found himself in a narrow ill-smelling, vilely paved alley
to the east of the Borough. Tall, ugly, dirty houses bordered it on each
side, a thick greasy mud covered the uneven stones. Dimly he was
conscious of the sound of a window being opened here and there, of
hoarse shouts and shrill screams, of shadowy beings who doubtless were
men and women but who were more like ghosts than creatures of flesh and
blood.

But no one molested him. This might be explained by the fact that those
who saw him running took him to be some criminal fleeing from justice to
take sanctuary in the Southwark slums, an impression quite sufficient to
ensure their sympathy. At least, this was what at first happened.
Afterwards the mob took it into their heads to pursue him and for no
particular reason save devilry.

The seething crowd poured into the narrow alley. Like a hunted deer the
young man ran up one court and down another, stumbling now and again
half from exhaustion and half from the greasy mud covered stones. He
could hear his pursuers coming nearer and nearer, but his strength was
gone. He dragged himself a few steps further and staggered into a
doorway, sinking on the steps in an almost fainting condition.

The next moment the door behind him opened, a hand gripped his shoulder
and a woman's voice whispered:--

"Come inside. Make haste before you're seen."

The young man raised his head. He was