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 dimly conscious of a handsome
face, of a pair of bold eyes staring into his.

"Come. Why are you waiting? Do you want to be murdered?" she cried
imperiously.

He struggled to his feet and she dragged him into the passage and closed
the door. Scarcely had she done so when the clatter of feet and a
confused sound of voices told that his pursuers were approaching. Had
they tracked him to the house? The point was at once settled by a loud
hammering at the door.

The woman half turned her head and cast a scornful look over her
shoulder.