“It’s dark—now.” The boy’s voice lagged in a tired fashion.
“Maybe we’d best hurry—then.”
A door slammed below, and there was a rustle of tongues.
“Who’ll be ’tendin’ the city gates?” asked Joseph.
“Who but the gatekeeper?”
Muffled feet crept up the stairs.
“Will he let us in?”
“He’ll let ye in, laddy; I might be too much of a stranger.”
“But I could speak for you. I—I wouldn’t like—goin’ in alone in the dark.”