Amidst much bustle, Harrington directing, and Brown hustling them into place, a hollow square was formed in the centre of the room. “I will take Mr. Lafitte by one arm,” said Muriel, “and you Mr. Brown, will take the other. Mr. Harrington will follow behind.” Harrington looked grave. “You run great danger, Muriel?” he murmured. “I think you’d better stay here.” “No,” whispered Muriel, “with a woman on his arm, his risk will be lessened. We must omit nothing that will protect him. Don’t fear for me. I’m not afraid.” “Miss Eastman,” said Brown, approaching with a bow, “you’re the bravest lady I’ve ever seen by long odds. You can’t be beat, Miss Eastman.” “Thank you, Mr. Brown,” she said with a curtsey, almost gay. “Now, sir,” she added gravely, turning to the shuddering Lafitte, “collect yourself, keep your head down, and don’t look around you.” She picked his hat up from the floor, and put it on him. He tried to bow with something of his usual courtesy, but was too much agitated to do so. Taking him firmly by the left arm, she led him into the centre of the square, which closed around them with locked arms. The awful moment was approaching. “Now, gentlemen,” said Brown, firmly, “mind you stick together. Don’t march till I give the word.” He went to the door and unbolting it, threw it open. “Gentlemen,” he roared, in a tremendous voice, “this affair is settled. We’re going to escort this man away from the neighborhood. Fall back, all of you, and clear the way.” He advanced upon them with waving arms. There was an instant’s hesitation, and then, with a sudden movement, they receded tumultuously, and poured down the wooden steps amidst a chorus of shouts and cries, which was taken up below, and swelled into a ponderous uproar. Returning hastily to the room, Brown entered the hollow square, and grasped Lafitte by the right arm. Harrington followed him and took his place behind, and the square closed. “Forward, march!” As the words burst from the mouth of the negro, they marched from the room, only breaking their order to get through the doorways. The moment they appeared on the steps, the whole wild, tossing, sunlit multitude sent up an appalling and tremendous howling roar. Lafitte almost fainted, but encouraged by Muriel, he rallied, and keeping his head on his breast, without looking at the crowd, he was got down the steps, and the next instant the little phalanx, joining together with locked arms, plunged into the living sea, which closed around them amidst an awful din.