Or the King himself....
The cunning of a lifetime failed him in that moment.

He slipped through the door, but his coat caught in a splinter of wood, and the rending of it gave the alarm.

As with quaking heart he ran up the silent stable-yard towards the Strand gate he felt close on him the wind of the pursuit.

In the dark he slipped on a patch of horse-dung and was down.
Something heavy fell atop of him, and the next second a gross agony tore the breath from him.
.

.