Everywhere, it seemed to them, they saw soldiers, on foot and on horseback, officers and men. They heard, now near, now far, the blare of trumpets and the roll of drums. On the footway girls went laughing by, and at their breasts they wore knots of orange ribbon, the color of the Parliament. Always the great bulk of the castle loomed against the sky, and from its highest tower drooped a banner that in the sunlight gleamed the hue of orange.
In the very heart of the rebel town, after so many twistings and turnings that it was hard to say how they had come there, the wains halted in a dirty courtyard, near some gaunt stables. The soldiers of the escort swung heavily from their saddles. The carters clambered down and began to unhitch the steaming horses.
"Down wi' ye, lads!" sang out Kit Woolgar, cheerily. "Else ye'll be cast into the stalls forthwith!"
All a-tremble, Merrylips clambered over the trusses of straw and let herself down into Woolgar's arms.
"Nigh frozen, art thou?" the young man said. "Do 'ee but wait, and speedily I'll get thee a swig of something hot, my youngster."
As he spoke, Woolgar took his hand from Merrylips and turned to look to his horses. In that moment Rupert caught her arm.
"Run!" he whispered. "Quick! 'Tis our one chance."
Like frightened hares they darted toward the entrance of the courtyard. They slipped on the frosty cobbles. They stumbled, for they were cramped and stiff with lying still so long. Behind them they heard men shout, and at that sound they ran the faster.
Outside the gate they dived into a narrow alley. At the farther end was a wall, over which they flung themselves. Beyond the wall were squalid courts, and frost-nipped gardens, and walls, and more walls.
At last they halted in a damp courtyard. They were too spent to run a step farther. They crept into a great empty cask, which lay on its side among some rubbish against a blank wall. There they crouched and waited, while they listened for the coming of pursuers.