They dashed across the little
drawbridge that spanned the moat, and, seizing the cranks, wound
furiously. Slowly, ah! how slowly it rose, for it was heavy, and they
were but two tired men; also the chains and cogs were rusty with disuse.
Yet it did rise, and as it came home at last, the fierce mob, thirsting
for their blood and guessing where they would refuge, appeared in front
of it and by the light of some torches which they bore, caught sight of
them.
"Come in, friends," mocked Grey Dick as they ran up and down the edge of
the moat howling with rage and disappointment. "Come in if you would
sup on arrow-heads such as this," and he sent one of his deadly shafts
through the breast of a red-headed fellow who waved a torch in one hand
and a blacksmith's hammer in the other.
Then they drew back, taking the dead man with them, but as they went one
cried:
"The Jews shall not save you again, wizards, for if we cannot come at
you to kill you, we'll starve you till you die. Stay there and rot, or
step forth and be torn to pieces, as it pleases you, English wizards."
Then they all slunk back and vanished, or seemed to vanish, down the
mouths of the dark streets that ran into the open place in front of the
dwelling which Hugh had named the Bride's Tower.
"Now," said Dick, wiping the sweat from his brow as they barred the
massive door of the house, "we are safe for this night at least, and can
eat and sleep in peace.
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