Castleman then departed, and we immediately arranged for the journey.
Max and I, with our squires, were waiting at the Deutsches Thor Gate when Castleman arrived with Twonette, Yolanda, and a guide. I knocked at the door of the lodge to rouse the warder, who, of course, was asleep, and that alert guardian of a drowsy city came grumbling to the wicket.
"What in the devil's name do you want at this time of night?" he growled. "The gates won't open till dawn."
"Yes, they will," replied Castleman. "I have the burgomaster's order."
"I open the gates only on an order from the governor of the citadel," said the warder.
"I have not that, my good friend," responded Castleman, "but I have a hundred silver marks in my purse."
"Let me see the burgomaster's order," said the worthy gatekeeper. "I am always glad to be accommodating."
Castleman handed over the order and the purse, and the warder pretended to read the paper in the dark.
"I'll open the gate to accommodate you and to please the burgomaster," he said.
The gates screeched upon their hinges, and every link in the portcullis chain groaned as if it wished to alarm the city. When the portcullis was a-block, Max, myself, and the squires mounted our horses. Yolanda leaned down from her saddle and, placing her arms about Castleman's neck, kissed him. Twonette followed her example; then our small cavalcade passed out through the gate, and we entered on our long, hard race with the Duke of Burgundy.