Looking into the courtyard, he could see the troops coming out from their quarters and moving about, then the gates opened, and, tying a bandage over his cheek, he went down and crossed the yard.
"You are out early," the sergeant of the guard remarked.
He nodded.

"I am nigh mad with pain," he said, pointing to his cheek, "and I am going to get some salve from an apothecary." "You seem to be bad indeed," the sergeant said commiseratingly, "'tis a terrible inflammation." Paolo went down to the spot where he had hidden the bundles in the hollow of a tree.

It was an unfrequented place, and slipping his disguise over his clothes, after putting the pistols in his belt, he took the second bundle and returned to a street through which waggons leaving the castle must pass.

A few minutes later he saw them coming along.

He had already stuffed his cheek full of tow, and several people, struck with the raw and swollen appearance of his face, had compassionately asked him what was the matter.