"Nay, we flee from bands of thieves and cut-throats. Even now they are doubtless pressing in at thy broken door. Summon aid, for our need is sore." "What--what is it thou art saying? Bands of cut-throats entering my house! Thou hast led them upon us, and we are ruined. What defence have I against such ruffians?" Edgar leaned upon his sword and panted. His exertions had been tremendous, but a few moments’ breathing space would, he knew, do much to restore him. "They are stealing along the passage, sir. I hear them," whispered the cripple. "They are fierce and stubborn when once they are roused, and fear the Justice and his men but little. I know them well." "Come, sir," said Edgar, lifting himself upright. "The cut-throats are even now stealing along yon passage, and----" Shrill cries of alarm from the merchant’s wife and daughters interrupted him, and turning hastily round, Edgar saw that two or three savage-looking figures were even now actually at the door. The merchant snatched a knife from the table, and, though pale and trembling, moved towards the door, as though prepared to defend his womenfolk to the last. With a sickening shock Edgar realized his responsibility in drawing the ruffians in pursuit of him into the home of a peaceful and innocent merchant. Though he was the one they sought, it was not to be supposed for a moment that the merchant’s family would, even though he gave himself up, remain unmolested. Furious with himself, and desperate to defend the innocent from the consequences of his thoughtlessness, Edgar sprang through the doorway upon the ruffians who were gathering there. His sword rose and fell with the rapidity and unerring precision he had learned in so many hard-fought encounters at Gaspard’s school, and in the space of a few seconds three lay wounded upon the ground and the others were in full flight. More men were stealing up behind, but at the screeching of the wounded and the headlong flight of the remainder they too turned and hastily retreated. For some distance Edgar followed them up, and, by sundry thrusts at the hindmost, sent them racing down the stairs to the passage through the warehouse. Here he stopped, for the way was dark, and he could not know but that many might be lurking among the bales, ready to spring out as he passed by, and, by stabbing him in the back, render themselves masters of the merchant’s dwelling. Returning to the door of the room, Edgar beckoned to the merchant, who was engaged in calming the fears of his wife and daughters, to come outside for a moment. "Canst not fetch aid?" "How dare I leave my wife and daughters, young sir? At any moment thou mayst be overcome, leaving them at the mercy of these ruffians." "Nay, if thou wilt give me a lighted lantern fixed upon a short pole, I will, I promise thee, rid thy house of these cut-throats until such time as thou canst bring help. But I cannot fight to advantage in the dark."