Thus, slowly enough, for there were but three of them, two hampered by
their mail, they bore Sir Geoffrey across the Place of Arms. Save for
the dead and dying, and some ghoul-like knaves who plundered them, by
this time it was almost deserted.
Indeed, a large band of these wretches, who had emerged like wolves from
their lairs in the lowest quarters of the great city, catching sight of
the gold chain Sir Geoffrey wore, ran up with drawn daggers to kill and
rob them.
Seeing them come Grey Dick slipped the black bow from its case and sent
an arrow singing through the heart of the one-eyed villain who captained
them. Thereon the rest left him where he fell and ran off to steal and
slay elsewhere. Then without a word Dick unstrung the bow and once more
laid hold of an end of the plank.
They came to the mouth of that street where the bravoes had waylaid them
on the previous night, only to find that they could not pass this way.
Here most of the houses were thrown down, and from their ruins rose
smoke and the hideous screams of those who perished. It was this part
of Venice, the home of the poorer folk, which suffered most from the
earthquake, that had scarcely touched many of the finer quarters. Still,
it was reckoned afterward that in all it took a toll of nearly ten
thousand lives.
Turning from this street, they made their way to the banks of a great
canal that here ran into the harbour, that on which they had been rowed
to the Place of Arms.
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