‘Who was it?’

Margarita’s eyes were shut.  She opened them fascinated with horror.  There was an unearthly awful and comic mixture of sounds in Werner’s querulous fury, that was like the noise of a complaining bear, rolling up from hollow-chested menace to yawning lament.  Never in her life had Margarita such a shock of fear.  The half gasp of a laugh broke on her trembling lips.  She stared at Werner, and was falling; but Farina’s arm clung instantly round her waist.  The stranger caught up her laugh, loud and hearty.

‘As for who did it, Sir Baron,’ he cried, is a cheery tone, ’I am the man!  As you may like to know why—­and that’s due to you and me both of us—­all I can say is, the Black Muzzle yonder lying got his settler for merry-making with this peaceful maiden here, without her consent—­an offence in my green island they reckon a crack o’ the sconce light basting for, I warrant all company present,’ and he nodded sharply about.  ’As for the other there, who looks as if a rope had been round his neck once and shirked its duty, he counts his wages for helping the devil in his business, as will any other lad here who likes to come on and try.’

Werner himself, probably, would have given him the work he wanted; but his eye had sidled a moment over Margarita, and the hardly-suppressed applause of the crowd at the stranger’s speech failed to bring his ire into action this solitary time.

‘Who is the maiden?’ he asked aloud.

‘Fraulein von Groschen,’ replied Farina.

’Von Groschen!  Von Groschen! the daughter of Gottlieb Groschen?—­Rascals!’ roared the Baron, turning on his men, and out poured a mud-spring of filthy oaths and threats, which caused Henker Rothhals, who had opened his eyes, to close them again, as if he had already gone to the place of heat.

‘Only lend me thy staff, friend,’ cried Werner.

’Not I! thwack ’em with your own wood,’ replied the stranger, and fell back a leg.

Werner knotted his stringy brows, and seemed torn to pieces with the different pulling tides of his wrath.  He grasped the mane of his horse and flung abroad handfuls, till the splendid animal reared in agony.

’You shall none of you live over this night, villains!  I ’ll hang you, every hag’s son!  My last orders were,—­Keep quiet in the city, ye devil’s brood.  Take that! and that!’ laying at them with his bare sword.  ’Off with you, and carry these two pigs out of sight quickly, or I’ll have their heads, and make sure o’ them.’

The latter injunction sprang from policy, for at the head of the chief street there was a glitter of the city guard, marching with shouldered spears.

‘Maiden,’ said Werner, with a bull’s bow, ’let me conduct thee to thy father.’

Margarita did not reply; but gave her hand to Farina, and took a step closer to the stranger.

Werner’s brows grew black.

‘Enough to have saved you, fair maid,’ he muttered hoarsely.  ’Gratitude never was a woman’s gift.  Say to your father that I shall make excuses to him for the conduct of my men.’