And to her so mortified, and anxious and jostled, came suddenly this kind hand and face.

"Hinc illae lacrimae." "All is well now," remarked a coarse humourist; "she hath gotten her sweetheart." "Haw! haw! haw!" went the crowd.
She dropped Gerard's hand directly, and turned round, with eyes flashing through her tears: "I have no sweetheart, you rude men.

But I am friendless in your boorish town, and this is a friend; and one who knows, what you know not, how to treat the aged and the weak." The crowd was dead silent.

They had only been thoughtless, and now felt the rebuke, though severe, was just.

The silence enabled Gerard to treat with the porter.
"I am a competitor, sir." "What is your name ?" and the man eyed him suspiciously.
"Gerard, the son of Elias." The janitor inspected a slip of parchment he held in his hand: "Gerard Eliassoen can enter." "With my company, these two ?" "Nay; those are not your company they came before you." "What matter?
They are my friends, and without them I go not in." "Stay without, then." "That will I not." "That we shall see." "We will, and speedily." And with this, Gerard raised a voice of astounding volume and power, and routed so that the whole street rang: "Ho! PHILIP, EARL OF HOLLAND!" "Are you mad ?" cried the porter.
"HERE IS ONE OF YOUR VARLETS DEFIES YOU." "Hush, hush!" "AND WILL NOT LET YOUR GUESTS PASS IN." "Hush! murder! The Dukes there.