“Beetle!” howled he, bounding on Isaiah. But the Jew had caught the whip, lashed it across the guards captain’s shoulders, and raised a smarting welt. Then at last all leaped on the intruder, but he laid about as seven, till a stroke of a cudgel dashed the whip from his grasp; he was carried off his feet, overpowered, and gripped fast. Around the motionless bull a tumultuous crowd was swelling, when a squad of red-robed “street-wardens” hastened up to arrest the peace-breakers. “High treason against the king!” Igas was screeching. “His head off before sunset!” But the police rescued Isaiah from the spearmen, and their chief urged:— “Softly, excellent captain, he must be tried before the judge.” “A Jew! A Jew!” shouted many. “Away with him! Strike! Kill!” The multitude seemed growing riotous, and ready to attack the police, when a new band of runners commenced forcing a passage. “Way! way! for the noble Persian Darius and the Vizier Bilsandan!” was the cry; but to the astonishment of those in the banking-house, they saw the young envoy leap from his chariot and plunge before his escort into the crowd. Dashing back the mob with sturdy blows from his scabbard, he was in an instant beside the Jew. For a moment few recognized him. Igas thrust at him with a lance, a quick thrust, yet more quickly had Darius unsheathed, and struck off the spear-head. “Treason! Rebellion! A plot!” shouted a hundred. The police endeavoured to arrest the new offender. “Death to the Jews!” rang the yell, as many hands were outstretched. But the Persian had released Isaiah, and thrust a cudgel in his hands. His own sword shone very bright. “Guard my back!” commanded he, and braced himself. The crowd cut him off from his escort. Avil cried vainly across the deafening tumult. “Hold, on your lives! Will you murder the Persian envoy?” There was a rush, a struggle; those thrust against Darius shrank back howling, all save two, who had tasted his short sword. In the respite following, Bilsandan had forced himself to the envoy’s side. Mere sight of the vizier was enough to enforce quiet. “Peace, dogs!” thundered Bilsandan. “Why this tumult?” Darius had sheathed his sword, but looked about smiling. Joy to show these city folk the edge of Aryan steel! “I struck only in self-defence,” quoth he to the vizier. “You saw the cruelty of this scorpion. Isaiah deserves reward for avenging the old man. I will mention the evil deed of this captain to the king. We Persians hold that he who reveres not the gray head will still less reverence the crown.”