ever, it was
not for me to question her; so, promising to be back in good time, I let
myself down to the boat, and rowed lustily to the steps below the
Bridge. I durst not venture further citywards where I was known; but I
remembered my old enemy, Will Peake on the Bridge, and resolved to
commit the boat to his care, knowing him for an honest 'prentice who
would see it duly returned to its owner. Besides, where better, thought
I, could I find a shawl for old Judy than among the Mercers on the
Bridge?

So up to the Bridge I clambered, merry to think how soon I, and all I
loved best, would be far away on the free sea, with our enemies all
behind, and our hopes all before.

Will Peake hailed me civilly, and hearing of my plight, readily charged
himself with the business of the boat. Then it seemed to me I could not
do better than consult him about the cloak, and I did so; whereat he
puffed himself very big, and said, if I meant to make the garment
myself, he could sell me the stuff, if not, I must go into Cheap, and
buy one ready made at the shops. So I thanked him, and hastened with
quick strides citywards.

I had hoped to get my merchandise over on the Bridge. Yet there was
ample time to spare even without haste. For all that, I ran, longing to
be safe back on the _Misericorde_.

Now, just as I came near the Steel yard (where you turn by Dowgate
towards Wallbrook), I met a party of soldiers loitering in the road, as
it seemed in quest of somebody. Seeing me running their way, they
closed upon me as I came up, and bade me halt. I bade them, angrily
enough, unhand me and let me go by, as I was an honest citizen, and
pressed on an errand to Cheapside. At this they laughed, and said that
was what every man they caught vowed, and since they did not like the
looks of me, I must away with them to see what their captain would think
of me.

I protested in vain that I was in urgent haste; they laughed over again,
and had me away to a tavern hard by, where, said they, their captain
lodged and would see me anon.

All this time the minutes were flying, and I was at my wits' end what to
do. It seemed to me wisest, if I could, to humour them, if perchance
they might be cajoled to let me go. But when, after waiting half-an-
hour, the captain did not appear, I felt I must do something, or give up
hope of reaching the ship in time. So I beckoned the leader of the band
to me.

"Friend," said I, as civilly as I could,