"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. Why, he doth look to be a good scullion, whereas when he is clad as the king's spy, he looketh a very poor spy; and he doth act the part moreover very lamentably. We had come badly off had he been as good a spy as he is a scullion." "Ay, and had he been less drunken," said Hugo. "Thou hast well said, lad," agreed Humphrey. "Let a man that would have ill success in what he undertaketh but befuddle his wit with drink, and ill success he will have, and that in good measure. And the scorn and contempt of his fellows, moreover, even as hath this little spy." "And yet," observed Hugo, thoughtfully, "it were hard to find a man who is not at some time drunken." "Hadst thou that from thine uncle, the prior?" asked Humphrey, quickly. "Or didst thou gain it from thine own very ancient experience?" "Now I have angered thee," said Hugo, frankly. "Yea, lad, thou hast. This is a time of great drinking, that I know; but never have I seen my lord drunken. And never hath any man seen me drunken, nor my father, nor my grandsire. There be ever enough sober ones in the worst of times to keep the world right side uppermost. And that thou wilt find when thou hast lived to be forty years old. But thou art but fourteen, and I am foolish to be angered with thee for what is, after all, but lack of experience. How soon come we to this St. Albans?" "Why, it is but thirteen miles from Dunstable," answered Hugo, pleasantly. "Then may we pass it by without stopping," cried Humphrey, joyfully. "And how much farther on lieth London?" "Twenty miles," replied Hugo. "Then do we rest in London to-night, if we may," said Humphrey. "Our horses be not of the best, but neither are they of the worst; and it were an ill beast that could not go thirty-three miles before sunset on the Watling Street." "Ay," agreed Hugo. "But we may not ride too fast, else shall we arouse wonder." Humphrey sighed. "Thou art right, lad," he said. "And wonder might lead to questions, and questions to a stopping of our journey. For how know I what answer to make to questions that I be not looking for? I will therefore go more slowly."