“Now think with your mind and shoot with your heart,” he said in his cold voice, and, so saying, drew and loosed as though at a hazard.

Out toward Venice leaped the shaft with a rushing sound like to that of wings and, as it seemed to the watchers, light went with it, for it travelled like a beam of light.  Far over the city it travelled, describing a mighty arc such as no arrow ever flew before, then sank down and vanished behind some palace tower.

“A very good bow,” said the shooter, as he handed it back to Dick.  “Never have I used a better, who have used thousands made of many a substance.  Indeed, I think that I remember it.  Did you chance to find it years ago by the seashore?  Yes?  Well, it was a gift of mine to a famous archer who died upon a ship.  Nay, it is not strained; I can judge of the breaking strength of a bow.  Whether or no I can judge of the flight of an arrow you will learn hereafter.  But that this one flew fast and far cannot be doubted since—­did you watchers note it?—­its speed made it shine like fire.  This is caused by the rubbing of the air when aught travels through it very quickly.  This night you have seen a meteor glow in the same fashion, only because the air fretted it in its passage.  In the East, whence I come, we produce fire just so.  And now let us be going, for I have much to do to-night, and would look upon this fair Venice ere I sleep.  I’ll lead the way, having seen a map of the town which a traveller brought to the East.  I studied it, and now it comes back to my mind.  Stay, let that youth give me his garment,” and he pointed to David Day, who wore a silk cloak like the others, “since my foreign dress might excite remark, as it did but now.”

In a moment Day had stripped himself of his light silk-hooded gown, and in another moment it was on the person of Murgh, though how it got there, when they came to think of it afterward, none could remember.  Still, the yellow and red head-dress, the coal-black silky furs, the yellow skirt, the gleaming pearls, all vanished beneath it.  Nothing remained visible except the white fingerless gloves—­why were they fingerless, and what lay beneath them?  Hugh wondered—­and the white shoes.

Forward they went across the Place of Arms, past the timber stand ornamented with banners, which Murgh stayed to contemplate for an instant, until they came to the mouth of the street up which men had followed them, apparently with evil intent.

“Sir Murgh,” said Hugh, stepping forward, “you had best let me and my companion Grey Dick walk first down this place, lest you should come to harm.  When we passed it a while ago we thought that we heard robbers behind us, and in Venice, as we are told, such men use knives.”

“Thank you for your warning, Sir Hugh,” and even beneath the shadow of the silk hood Hugh thought that he saw his eyes smile, and seeing, remembered all the folly of such talk.

“Yet I’ll risk these robbers.  Do you two and the lad keep behind me,” he added in a sterner voice.