So they advanced down the narrow street, the man called Murgh going first, Hugh, Grey Dick and the lad following meekly behind him.  As they entered its shadows a low whistle sounded, but nothing happened for a while.  When they had traversed about half its length, however, men, five or six of them in all, darted out of the gloom of a gateway and rushed at them.  The faint light showed that they were masked and gleamed upon the blue steel of the daggers in their hands.  Two of these men struck at Murgh with their knives, while the others tried to pass him, doubtless to attack his companions, but failed.  Why they failed Hugh and Dick never knew.  All they saw was that Murgh stretched out his white-gloved hands, and they fell back.

The men who had struck at him fell back also, their daggers dropping to the ground, and fled away, followed by their companions, all except one whom Murgh had seized.  Hugh noted that he was a tall, thin fellow, and that, unlike the rest, he had drawn no weapon, although it was at his signal that the other bravoes had rushed on.  This man Murgh seemed to hold with one hand while with the other he ripped the mask off his face, turning him so that the light shone on him.

Hugh and Dick saw the face and knew it for that of the priest who had accompanied Acour to England.  It was he who had drugged Red Eve and read the mass of marriage over her while she was drugged.

“Who are you?” asked Murgh in his light, cold voice.  “By your shaven head a priest, I think—­one who serves some God of love and mercy.  And yet you come upon this ill errand as a captain of assassins.  Why do you seek to do murder, O Priest of the God of mercy?”

Now some power seemed to drag the answer from Father Nicholas.

“Because I must,” he said.  “I have sold myself and must pay the price.  Step leads to step, and he who runs may not stop upon them.”

“No, priest Nicholas, since ever they grow more narrow and more steep.  Yet at the foot of them is the dark abyss, and, Murderer Nicholas, you have reached the last of all your steps.  Look at me!” and with one hand he threw back the hood.

Next instant they saw Nicholas rush staggering down the street, screaming with terror as he went.  Then, as all the bravoes had gone, they continued their march, filled with reflections, till they came to the little landing-stage where they had left the boat.  It was still there though the boatman had gone.

“Let us borrow this boat,” said Murgh.  “As from my study of the map I know these water-paths, I will be steersman and that tongue-tied lad shall row and tell me if I go wrong.  First I will take you to the house where I think you said you lodged, and thence to go seek friends of my own in this city who will show me hospitality.”

They glided on down the long canals in utter silence that was broken only by the soft dipping of the oars.  The night was somewhat cooler now, for the bursting of the great meteor seemed to have cleared the air.  Or perhaps the gentle breeze that had sprung up, blowing from the open sea, tempered its stifling heat.