The speaker was a sort of Don Caesar de Bazan in dress, aspect, and bearing

He was tall, trim-built, muscular. His doublet and trunks were of rich

Material, but faded and threadbare, and their gold-lace adornments were

Sadly tarnished; his ruff was rumpled and damaged; the plume in his slouched

Hat was broken and had a bedraggled and disreputable look; at his side he

Wore a long rapier in a rusty iron sheath; his swaggering carriage marked

Him at once as a ruffler of the camp. The speech of this fantastic figure was

received with an explosion of jeers and laughter. Some cried, ''Tis another

prince in disguise!' ''Ware thy tongue, friend, belike he is dangerous!' 'Marry,

he looketh it — mark his eye!' 'Pluck the lad from him — to the horse-pond

wi' the cub!'

Instantly a hand was laid upon the prince, under the impulse of this happy

thought; as instantly the stranger's long sword was out and the meddler went

To the earth under a sounding thump with the flat of it. The next moment a

score of voices shouted 'Kill the dog! kill him! kill him!' and the mob closed in

On the warrior, who backed himself against a wall and began to lay about him

With his long weapon like a madman. His victims sprawled this way and that,

But the mob-tide poured over their prostrate forms and dashed itself against

The champion with undiminished fury. His moments seemed numbered, his