My cloak was wrapped over half my face; the capacious flat cap hid every lock of my tell-tale hair.

By Sapt's directions, I crouched on my saddle, and rode with such a round back as I hope never to exhibit on a horse again.

Down a long narrow lane we went, meeting some wanderers and some roisterers; and, as we rode, we heard the Cathedral bells still clanging out their welcome to the King.

It was half-past six, and still light.

At last we came to the city wall and to a gate.
"Have your weapon ready," whispered Sapt.