"You told me it was in Oxford." "It was.

I have done it--but I left a friend here.

Mine host," said I, turning to the man of the place, "is my comrade astir yet ?" The host crammed his apron in his mouth to keep in a laugh.
"Astir! Sir Ludar astir! I warrant thee half the bucks in Shotover Wood are astir too before now." "What!" said I, my face falling suddenly, "is he gone then ?" "An hour since; and by your leave, young sir," added mine host, "I would take leave to remind your grandeur that the score of last night's supper, and a trifle my lord took for his breakfast, with the shoeing and meat of the horse, and the price of your night's lodging, awaits your noble acquittance." "Gone!" cried I, not heeding all the rest.

"And did he leave aught for me ?" "I doubt not he left his blessing, but nothing else." "But my cloak, he had my cloak." "If he have it not still, ay, and the nag too, it will be because he has met a stronger man than ever I saw yet on earth," said mine host.
"But the cloak!" roared I, "that cloak had papers in it; it was--" Here the Bishop's man put down his mug and pricked up his ears.
"Which way did he go ?" cried I.

"Saddle me my horse.