‘Are you hurt?’ Emma asked.

‘No, I’m not hurt, no.’

Two children had come down the stairs, and were clinging to Emma, crying with fright.  For the noise at the door was growing terrific.

‘Who is there in the house?’ Mutimer asked.

’No one, I think.  The landlady and two other women who live here are outside.  My sister is away somewhere.’

‘Can I get off by the back?’

‘No.  There’s a little yard, but the walls are far too high.’

’They’ll break the door through.  If they do, the devils are as likely to kill you as me.  I must go upstairs to a window and speak to them.  I may do something yet.  Sooner than put you in danger I’ll go out and let them do their worst Listen to them!  That’s the People, that is!  I deserve killing, fool that I am, if only for the lying good I’ve said of them.  Let me go up into your room, if it has a window in the front.’

He led up the stairs, and Emma showed him the door of her room—­the same in which she had received the visit of Daniel Dabbs.  He looked about it, saw the poverty of it.  Then he looked at Emma.

‘Good God!  Who has hit you?’

There was a great cut on her cheek, the blood was running down upon her dress.

‘Somebody threw a stick,’ she answered, trying to smile.  ’I don’t feel it; I’ll tie a handkerchief on it.’

Again a fit of sobbing seized him; he felt as weak as a child.

‘The cowardly roughs!  Give me the handkerchief—­I’ll tie it.  Emma!’

‘Think of your own safety,’ she replied hurriedly.  ’I tell you I don’t feel any pain.  Do you think you can get them to listen to you?’

’I’ll try.  There’s nothing else for it.  You stand at the back of the room; they may throw something at me.’

’Oh, then, don’t open the window!  They can’t break the door.  Some help will come.’

’They will break the door.  You’d be as safe among wild beasts as among those fellows if they get into the house.’

He threw up the sash, though Emma would not go from his side.  In the street below was a multitude which made but one ravening monster; all its eyes were directed to the upper storeys of this house.  Mutimer looked to the right and to the left.  In the latter quarter he saw the signs of a struggle Straining his eyes through the dusk, he perceived a mounted police-officer forcing his way through the throng; on either side were visible the helmets of constables.  He drew a deep sigh of relief, for the efforts of the mob against the house door could scarcely succeed unless they used more formidable weapons for assault, and that would now be all but impossible.

He drew his bead back into the room and looked at Emma with a laugh of satisfaction.

‘The police are making way!  There’s nothing to fear now.’

‘Come away from the window, then,’ Emma urged.  ’It is useless to show yourself.’