“Rise and come,” he said, “it is our fate”; and Dick obeyed.
Only after he had translated the Man’s words, David fell down flat upon the quay and lay there.
They stepped to the yellow-capped Man and stood on each side of him, Hugh drawing his sword and Dick the battle-axe that he carried beneath his robe of silk.
“We will,” said Hugh shortly, in English.
“Now there are three of us,” went on the Man. “The stranger from the East has found defenders from the West. On, defenders, for I do not fight thus,” and he folded his arms across his broad breast and smiled with the awful eyes.
Hugh and Dick knew no Italian, yet they both of them understood, and with a shout leaped forward toward those hungry knives. But their holders never waited for them. Some sudden panic seized them all, so that they turned and ran—ran straight across the wide Place of Arms and vanished into the network of narrow streets by which it was surrounded.
CHAPTER XIII
MURGH’S ARROW
Hugh and Dick came back. Something seemed to call them back, although no blow had been struck. The Man stood where they had left him, staring at nothing in particular. Apparently he was engaged in meditation.