"It is mine own," he screamed, and danced upon the sill for very rage. "There is no resemblance betwixt my verses and that preposterous fellow's--whose name even I know not. I vow there hath been nought, since Catullus, writ with so infinite and original an invention as my Hymn to the Spring," and off he went with his "Fresh Spring, the lovely herald of Great Love," with so great an eagerness of delight in the poor cuckoo-chick words, as I could not but pity him. By this time our loud and contrary arguments had been overheard, and ere he had done Idonia came running forth from the kitchen, her sleeves above the elbow, and her dress all tucked up; while a little after, Skene called over the stair-rail to inquire out the cause of this disturbance. "'Tis Mr. Plat, the celebrated poet," I replied, "that says there is a danger threatening this house, though of what nature I cannot learn." Suddenly recalled by my protest, the poet clapped his hand to his forehead and cried out: "O, whither hath my Muse rapt me? Return, my soul, and of this tumult tell..." "Out with it, man!" quoth Mr. Skene, in his usual calm manner of command, that did more than all my attempts to come by the truth. "They are returning from the Tower," said the poet, "whither they have carried off the Spaniard. They are coming hither, an incredible company with staves and all manner of weapons." "And wherefore?" demanded Skene. "Because 'tis constantly affirmed that you have here concealed a sort of plotting Jesuits and base men that would spy out the land, and enslave us. Nay, they go so far as to say that one such was caught here not so long ago in the open light of day, for which they swear to beat the house about your ears and slay you every one. "Be silent," said the attorney briefly, and we all stood awhile attentive to any sound of menace from without. We had not long to wait, for almost on the instant there came a shuffle and rush of many feet, and that deep unforgettable roll, as of drums, that means the anger of confused and masterless multitudes. Skene addressed me: "You alone have a sword, sir. You will cover our retreat." I bowed without speaking, and unsheathing my sword, went to the door, where I clapped to the bolts and made all fast. "Oh, Denis, Denis!" cried Idonia, who saw it was intended I should remain behind. "Sir," she pleaded with her guardian, "he must come with me where'er you lead me." "He will follow," said he; and then to Plat-- "Do they compass the whole house, or is there a way of escape beyond?" "There is yet," he answered, having made espial; "for the attack goes but upon the street side, leaving the lane free. But lose no time, for they be already scattering--ah! 'tis for fuel to lay to the door," cried he, all aghast now and scarce articulate. "Come away after me," and so was gone.