It was the tramp of footsteps, apparently of a large
party in the street. It forced him to break off, and promptly
drove us all to our posts.
But before we separated a slight figure, hardly noticeable in
that dim, uncertain light, passed me quickly, laying for an
instant a soft hand in mine as I stood waiting by the gates. I
have said I scarcely saw the figure, though I did see the kind
timid eyes, and the pale cheeks under the hood; but I bent over
the hand and kissed it, and felt, truth to tell, no more regret
nor doubt where our duty lay. But stood, waiting patiently.
CHAPTER IX.
THE HEAD OF ERASMUS.
Waiting, and waiting alone! The gates were almost down now. The
gang of ruffians without, reinforced each moment by volunteers
eager for plunder, rained blows unceasingly on hinge and socket;
and still hotter and faster through a dozen rifts in the timbers
came the fire of their threats and curses. Many grew tired, but
others replaced them. Tools broke, but they brought more and
worked with savage energy.
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