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Before Denis had to try to make a guess sound like an expert opinion； there came again the sounds of someone at the back door of the shop。 The sounds were different this time： demanding shouts； acpanied by a strong and determined hammering。
Following his mistress out into the shop's main room； Denis shut the door of his own room behind him。 The master； Old World light in hand again； was once more approaching the back door。 Even as Courtenay turned on the light and peered out through the spy…lens； the pounding came again。 This time it was acpanied by a hoarse voice； somewhat muffled by the door's thickness： 〃Ho； in the house； open for the Watch！ In the Lord Mayor's name； open！〃
The master of the house continued to peer out。 〃Three of 'em；〃 he reported in a low voice。 〃No lights of their own。 Still； it's the real Watch … I think。〃
〃Open！〃 the smothered roaring voice demanded。 〃Open or we break it down！〃 And there came a thump thump thump。 But they were going to have to thump harder than that before this door would take them seriously。
Quietly the mistress said to her husband： 〃We don't want to。。。〃 She let the statement trail off there； but Denis listening had the strong impression that her next words would have been： arouse suspicion。
Whatever meaning the master read into her halfvoiced thought； he nodded his agreement with it。 Looking at Denis； he ordered： 〃Say nothing to them about our visitor。 We've seen no one tonight。〃
〃If they want to search？〃
〃Leave that to me。 But pick up your hatchet again； just in case。〃
When all three of the people inside were ready； Courtenay undid the bars and opened the door again。 In the very next instant he had to demonstrate extraordinary agility for a man of his weight； by jumping back out of the way of a blow from a short sword。
The three men who had e bursting in； dressed though they were in the Lord Mayor's livery of gray and green； were plainly not the Watch。 Denis with his hatchet was able to stand off the first rush of one of them； armed with a long knife in each hand。 Another of the intruders started toward Lady Sophie。 But her right arm rose from her side； drawing into a whirling blur the sling's long leather strands。 Whatever missile had been cradled in the leather cup now blasted stone fragments out of the wall beside the man's head； giving him pause； giving her the necessary moment to reload her weapon。
〃Ben of Purkinje！〃 cried out the third invader； hacking again at Master Courtenay with his sword。 〃Greetings from the Blue Temple！〃 This attacker was tall； and looked impressively strong。
Master Courtenay； after advising Denis to be armed； had himself been caught embarrassingly unarmed on the side of the room away from the rack of weapons。 He had to improvise； and out of the miscellany of tools around the forge grabbed up a long； iron…handled casting ladle。 It was a clumsy thing to try to swing against a sword； but the master of the house had awesome strength； and now demonstrated good nerves as well。 For the time being he was holding his own； managing to protect himself。
The man who had started after the Lady Sophie now turned back； indecisively； as if to give the swordsman aid。 It was an error。 In the next instant the second stone from the sling hit him in the back of the head and knocked him down。 The sound of the impact and the way he fell showed that for him the fight was over。
Denis was distracted by the lady's achievement unwisely； for a moment later he felt the point of one of his opponent's long knives catch in the flesh of his forearm。 The hatchet fell from Denis's grip to the stone floor。 Scrambling away from the knives； clearing a low bench in a somersaulting dive； Denis the Quick lived up to his nickname well enough to keep himself alive。
He heard one of the bigger workbenches go over with a crash； and now he saw that Master Courtenay had somehow managed to catch his own attacker by the swordarm … maybe the fellow had also been distracted； dodging feints of a slung stone。 Anyway it was now going to be a wrestling match … but no； it really wasn't。 In another instant the swordsman； bellowing his surprise； had been lifted clean off his feet； and in the instant after that Denis saw him slaughtered like a rabbit； his back broken against the angle of the heavy； tilted table。
The knife…wielder who had wounded Denis had now changed his strategy and was scrambling after the lady。 Suddenly bereft of friends； he needed a hostage。 Denis； reckless of his own safety； and wounded as he was； threw himself in the attacker's way before the man could e within a knifethrust of the mistress。 Denis had one quick glimpse of the lady； her white robe half undone； scooting successfully on hands and knees to get away。
And now Denis was on his back； and the knife was ing down at him instead … but before it reached him； the arm that held it was knocked aside by a giant's blow from the long ladle。 The iron weight brushed aside the barrier of an arm to mash into the knifer's cheekbone； delivering most of its energy there with an effect of devastation。 Denis rolled aside； paused to look back； and allowed himself to slow to a panting halt。 The fight was definitely over。
In the workshop； only three sets of lungs were breathing still。
The lady； pulling her robe around her properly once more （even amid surrounding blood； terror； and danger； that momentary vision of her body was still with Denis； he thought that it would always be。） Now she let herself slide down slowly until she was sitting on the floor with her back against one of the upset benches。 Evidently more angered then terrified by the experience； she said to her husband acidly； 〃You are quite； quite sure； are you； that they represent the Watch？〃
Coutenay； still on his feet； looking stupid； breathing heavily； could only mumble something。
Once more there came the sound of pounding on a door； acpanied by urgent voices。 But this time the noise was originating within the house。 The door that closed off the ascending stair was being rattled and shaken； while from behind it a man's voice shouted： 〃Mistress！ Master！ Denis； are you all right？ What's going on？〃
The master of the house cast down his long iron ladle。 He stood for a moment contemplating his own bloodied hands as if he wondered how they might have got that way。 Denis saw an unprecedented tremor in those hands。 Then Courtenay drew a deep breath； raised his head； and called back； almost calmly； 〃It's all right； Tarim。 A little problem； but we've solved it。 Be patient for a moment and I'll explain。〃
In an aside he added： 〃Denis； help me get these。。。 no； you're hurt yourself。 Sit down first and bind that up。 Barb； you help me with these visitors。 Drag 'em around behind that bench and we'll throw a tarp over 'em。〃
Denis； in mild shock now with his wound； took a moment to register the unfamiliar name。 Barb？ Never before had he heard the master； or anyone else； call the lady that。。。 it wasn't going to be easy； he realized； to bind up his own arm unaided。 Anyway； the wound didn't look like it was going to kill him。
Courtenay； while keeping busy himself； was still giving orders。 〃Now close the street door。〃 He dropped a dead man where