"Dost stop me, sirrah!" demanded the half-drunken Walter Skinner. "I be
the servant of the king; and, moreover, I be but just come from the inn
of the Shorn Lamb. Pass me outside the walls."
The watchman, at the mention of the Shorn Lamb, made haste to lead the
horse through the narrow side gate, for he and the innkeeper were
confederates in villany; and away went Walter Skinner at a great pace
toward London.
CHAPTER XXI
Knowing nothing of the escape of their old enemy, Hugo and Humphrey
arose the next morning and, after paying their reckoning, departed
without having incurred the suspicion of any one in the town.
"This cometh of leaving the inn of the Shorn Lamb in good season,"
observed Humphrey, with satisfaction.
"I did think we were put out of the inn," said Hugo, demurely.
"Ay, lad," agreed Humphrey; "thou art right. If all who go to the Shorn
Lamb were thus put out, and so did leave in good season, there would be
fewer lambs abroad without their fleece. Didst see Walter Skinner in
the guise of the scullion?"
"Yea," answered Hugo.
"If I be so good a priest as he is a scullion, I fear detection from no
man.
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