And he went, bidding her lock the door behind him and open only at his knock.
He made the more haste for her fears, passed into the town through the Porte Tertasse, and hastened to the conduit.

The open space in front of the fountain, which a little later in the day would be the favourite resort of gossips and idlers, was a desert; the bitter morning wind saw to that.

But about the fountain itself three or four women closely muffled were waiting their turns to draw.

One looked up, and, as he fancied, recognised him, for she nudged her neighbour.

And then first the one woman and then the other, looking askance, muttered something; it might have been a prayer, or a charm, or a mere word of gossip.