Cicely scarce noted the presence of her companion. She hurried forward rapidly through the half-deserted streets, looking neither to right nor left, heedless of those terrible signs of butchery which greeted them at every corner, and at sight of which Prudence shrank and shuddered with horror. At the inn the chief justice sat at supper with the circle of boon-companions whom he had collected from among the followers of his circuit. At the door of the inn a sentry barred the girl’s entrance, and to Cicely’s request for audience with the lord chief justice, his reply was that the business must wait, seeing that his lordship was at dinner. In vain Cicely pleaded for an interview however brief, in vain she protested that her business was urgent, her information of the utmost importance, even in vain she offered him money, the man was obdurate. From the row of open windows above came the clink of glasses, the murmur of men’s voices, at times a loud burst of laughter. Cicely glanced from the unmoved face of the sentry up to the open windows of the room in which was the man she sought. She had carried her resolution so far, she could not endure the thought of failure now. As she glanced upward an officer lounged into view at one of the windows and stared carelessly down on the group below. "By Mahomet!" he exclaimed. "A petticoat. Two, i’ faith, and main pretty baggages into the bargain." He turned and said something to his comrades, and the jest was greeted by a burst of coarse laughter. Other men crowded to the windows and stared down curiously at the two girls, and as the first speaker turned away, the babble of voices in the room grew, louder. Presently the officer appeared in the doorway of the inn, and with a bow of mock politeness requested the ladies to honour him by placing their difficulties in his hands, and telling him the nature of their business with the lord chief justice. Shrinking involuntarily before the bold appraising looks with which the man surveyed her face and figure, Cicely nevertheless answered bravely enough that she possessed certain information concerning a rebel, but could confide her knowledge to none save Lord Jeffreys himself. "’Tis not his lordship’s custom to deal with any business at so late an hour," answered the officer. "Yet a request from those fair lips can never go ungranted, so, an you will permit me, I will act as your advocate, and plead with him for an interview. He would scarce refuse, did he know what a pleasure his consent would afford him." He led the girls into the inn, and with another low bow, and a last critical survey left them in the passage and mounted to the room above with his report.