A crowd had rapidly gathered at the sound of the blows on the gate, and now tried to press through, but two soldiers with pikes beat them back. When Conrad and the archer had followed their master, the gates were closed and barred again. The three horsemen found themselves under a dark echoing archway of stone, from the black mouth of which was given a view of a narrow moonlit street.
"You have a guide here for me?" said Rodolph.
"Yes, my Lord. He is to take you to the Golden Flagon."
"That is right. Let him lead on at once, for we have had a long journey."
A soldier stepped out into the light and the three followed him. He led them through the narrow winding streets of the city, flanked by tall houses whose overhanging gables caused the thoroughfares to seem more cramped than they actually were. At last he came to a street so much wider than the others that it might have been termed a square, and on one side of it stood the hostelry, from whose front the golden flagon swung in token of the good wine to be had within. Here all was silent, and the three horsemen sat where they were, while the soldier hammered with the end of his pike against a door. When it was opened there was a whispered colloquy, and then some sleepy stable boys were roused to take charge of the horses of the belated guests, while the landlord himself invited them to enter.
Rodolph swung himself from his exhausted steed, the others following his example; the archer, who had ridden from the summit of the Taurus, descending with painful slowness and extreme care.
"Take supper here," said Rodolph to his men, "and then to rest. I am sure you need it. Do not leave this house until I come or send for you. And now good-night."
"Are you not coming in also, my Lord?" asked Conrad, in surprise.
"No. My night's work is just beginning."
"Then I shall go with you, my Lord."