But his
bodyguard held together with wonderful firmness, only now and then
an enemy got near enough to dash a fist in his face. If he fell into
the hands of the mob he was done for; Mutimer knew that, and was
ready to fight for his life. But the direction taken by the main
current of the crowd favoured him. In about twenty minutes he was
swept away from the Green, and into a street. There were now fewer
foes about him; he saw an opportunity, and together with Redgrave
burst away. There was no shame in taking to flight where the odds
against him were so overwhelming. But pursuers were close behind
him; their cry gave a lead to the chase. He looked for some by-way
as he rushed along the pavement. But an unexpected refuge offered
itself. He was passing a little group of women, when a voice from
among them cried loudly--'In here! In here!' He saw that a
house-door was open, saw a hand beckon wildly, and at once sprang
for the retreat. A woman entered immediately behind him and slammed
the door, but he did not see that a stick which the foremost of his
pursuers had flung at him came with a terrible blow full upon his
preserver's face.
For a moment he could only lean against the wall of the passage,
recovering his breath. Where he stood it was almost dark, for the
evening was drawing in.
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