“Boy, did I not chasten you the very first day we met!”
They rode out through the gate and were met at the barrier by a man wrapped up in a black cloak and hood. A second figure stood at a little distance, a figure that leant upon a quarter-staff.
Knollys bent low in the saddle.
“Walworth?”
“Walworth it is.”
“Good.”
“I come with you to Ludgate, and yonder is your guide.”
They filed along the silent streets, Walworth walking beside Knollys’ horse, the black knight and his page riding together, Cavendish, the men-at-arms, and the archers following. The guide, a bearded fellow in a brown smock and rough woollen stockings and cow-hide shoes, tramped along with his staff over his shoulder.
There was no parleying at Ludgate. Walworth went forward, and the gate opened instantly to let them through. As they passed under the arch they saw Walworth standing in the doorway of the guardroom, but he did not speak or move.
Some fifty yards beyond the gate Knollys called the guide and an archer to him.