" And he questioned the groom who came to take their
tired horses.
"Yea," answered the groom. "This be the town of Dunstable. And here it
is that the Watling Street crosseth the Icknield Street."
"_Pax vobiscum_," said Humphrey. "I will in to the fire and my supper.
Do thou care well for the beasts." And, followed by Hugo, he strode off
with a gait which was not often seen on a priest.
The inn which Humphrey had chosen displayed the sign of the Shorn Lamb,
and was one of the smallest in the neighborhood; it made its patrons at
home in its large kitchen while they waited for the meal to be served.
There was but one other guest in the room when Hugo and Humphrey
entered, and the moment the faithful serving-man saw him he was
grateful for his priest's garb; for the fierce little man who was
giving orders in a peremptory manner was none other than Walter
Skinner.
In great fear he had fled from Newark at the instance of the courtier,
but his courage, after three days of wandering, had returned to him;
for his hope of one day being a duke died hard. "Though I be the king's
spy no longer," he had said to himself, "I have been the king's spy.
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