I made a pretext to go and find my coat and cap, and let them depart without me.
For I was haunted yet by the memory of that fair face and the sweet music of her voice, and I wished to be alone.
Moreover, it vexed me grievously that any servant of so gracious a Queen as ours could be base enough to offer a helpless maiden a discourtesy, and that in chastising him I must needs put an affront on the dignity of her Majesty's Court.

But that weighed less when I remembered what I had seen, and I would fain have had the doing of it all again, despite her gentle protest.
So I waited till the crowd was gone, and then paced, moodily enough, citywards.
But, at the entrance to the Fields, there overtook me a handful of horsemen, bravely equipped; amongst whom, as I looked round, I saw the author of all this mischief himself.

His gay cloak hid the stains of the duck-weed, and as for his sword, he had borrowed another from one of his men.

Mounted as he was, it was not likely he should notice a common 'prentice lad like me, yet I resolved notice me he should, even if I went to the pillory for it.
So I stood across the way, and said: "Farewell, brave captain.

The pond will be deeper next time, and Humphrey Dexter will be there to put you in it." He turned about, crimson in face, and cursed savagely as he saw me--for he knew (or guessed, shrewdly enough), who I was.