The former, a gentleman of middle age, protected from the cold by costly furs, saw with a single hasty glance the cause of the detention.
Instantly dismounting, he followed the leader of the troop to the end of the wall, where there was a flight of rude steps.
Ulrich's head now lay in the soldier's arms, and the traveller gazed at him with a look of deep sympathy.

The steadfast glance of his bright eyes rested on the boy's features as if spellbound, then he raised his hand, beckoned to the elder soldier, and exclaimed: "Lift him; we'll take him with us; a corner can be found in the wagon." The vehicle, of which the traveller spoke, was slow in coming.

It was a long four-wheeled equipage, over which, as a protection against wind and storm, arched a round, sail-cloth cover.

The driver crouched among the straw in a basket behind the horses, like a brooding hen.
Under the sheltering canopy, among the luggage of the fur-clad gentleman, sat and reclined four travellers, whom the owner of the vehicle had gradually picked up, and who formed a motley company.
The two Dominican friars, Magisters Sutor and Stubenrauch, had entered at Cologne, for the wagon came straight from Holland, and belonged to the artist Antonio Moor of Utrecht, who was going to King Philip's court.

The beautiful fur border on the black cap and velvet cloak showed that he had no occasion to practise economy; he preferred the back of a good horse to a seat in a jolting vehicle.
The ecclesiastics had taken possession of the best places in the back of the wagon.