Still holding his hand, she began to mount the stairs.  As they passed each landing Harry heard the voices of men in the rooms on either side.  At last they arrived at the top of the house.  Here she opened a door, and led Harry into a room.

“Are you here, mother?” she asked.

There was no answer.  The girl uttered an exclamation of thankfulness; then, after groping about, she found a tinder-box, and struck a light.

“You are safe here for the present.  This is my room, where I live with my mother.  At least,” she sighed, “she calls herself my mother, and is the only one I have known.”

“Is it possible,” Harry asked in surprise, “that one like yourself can live in such an abode as this?”

“I am safe here,” she answered.  “There are five men of my tribe in the next room, and fierce and brutal as are the men of these courts, none of them would care to quarrel with the gypsies.  But now I have got you here, how am I to get you away?”

“If the gypsies are so feared, I might go out with them,” Harry said.

“Alas!” the girl answered, “they are as had as the others.  And even if they were disposed to aid you for the kindness you have shown me, I doubt if they could do so.  Assuredly they would not run the risk of thwarting the cutthroats here for the sake of saving you.”

“Could you go and tell the watch?” Harry asked.

“The watch never comes here,” the girl replied, shaking her head.  “Were they to venture up these lanes it would be like entering a hive of bees.  This is an Alsatia—­a safe refuge for assassins and robbers.”

“I have got myself into a nice mess,” Harry said.  “It seems to me I had better sally out and take my chance.”

“Look,” the girl said, going to the window and opening it.

Peering out, Harry saw below a number of men with swords and knives drawn.  One or two had torches, and they were examining every doorway and court.  Outside the window ran a parapet.

“They will search like hounds,” the girl continued.  “They must know that you have not gone far.  If they come here you must take to the parapet, and go some distance along.  Now, I must try and find some disguise for you.”

At this moment the door opened, and an old woman entered.  She uttered an exclamation of astonishment at seeing Harry, and turning angrily to the girl, spoke to her in the gypsy dialect.  For two or three minutes the conversation continued in that language; then the old woman turned to Harry, and said in English: 

“My daughter tells me that you have got into a broil on her behalf.  There are few gentlemen who draw sword for a gypsy.  I will do my best to aid you, but it will be difficult to get a gallant like yourself out of this place.”

Her eye fell covetously upon the jewel in Harry’s hat.  He noticed the glance.

“Thanks, dame,” he said; “I will gladly repay your services.  Will you accept this token?” And removing the jewel from the hat, he offered it to her.