It was freezing hard and threatening snow, so he flung a fold of his cloak round his neck, muffling his ears.

This deadened his hearing, and his mind also was busy with its own thoughts, so that he did not observe that soft steps dogged him.

At the corner of an alley he was tripped up, and a heavy garment flung over his head.
He struggled to regain his feet, but an old lameness, got at Naseby, impeded him.

The cobbles, too, were like glass, and he fell again, this time backward.

His head struck the ground, and though he did not lose consciousness, his senses were dazed.