Of that mad ride through Spain Joshua never afterwards spoke without a shake of the head, and a gesture of incredulity. "You ask me how we compassed it?" says he. "I will tell you very simply, I do not know. We were out of Madrid featly enough, none saying us nay. Why should they? My master wore the collar of the Golden Fleece about his neck, a fine gaudy thing, to rank with our Garter, so I believe. That weighed with them, I warrant you. If any speered after us, why, we were on the King's business, and you may believe we tarried not to see how they stomached that. "We rode through that first night without drawing rein. I thanked Jupiter--a very potent planet in my affairs--that there was some faint moonlight, else had we been shent. Past some town--you would not know it, and nor did I--clouds came up, and we were left to flounder among the ruts and the boulders. As I remember, we lost the road twice between that stage and the next. I was near to breaking my head against low-hanging tree-branches, lost, then bogged in some swamp. 'How fares your honour?' sing I out into the darkness. 'Merrily, merrily!' calls Sir Nicholas back to me. What can be done with such a mad-wag? We were casting about to find the road, stumbling here, foundering there, with all Spain hunting us to the rearward. But 'Merrily, merrily!' quoth Sir Nicholas, and I doubt he thought so. Did he lose the road? What matter for that? Trust him to nose out the north; it was enough. The dawn came up, and a sharp wind with it, enough to cut one in two. I was never more glad of the daylight. We struck the road--God's light, there was little enough to choose between it and the open country!--pushed on, the horses nigh done. My nag went lame: small blame to him. We fetched up at the next stage, walking the last league. You may be sure we had put a-many between us and Madrid. "My head was a-nod, and my eyes full of dust. What matter for that? 'How fares you honour?'--'Excellent well,' quotha, as though he were upon a day's hunting. Ay, and a hunt it was, and he the hart. Yet I do not deny he hunted too, a quarry of his own, and maybe gave more thought to that than to the hounds behind him. So did not I, but I own myself to be a very meacock creature, besides which the salt fell towards me in an unlucky spill at that inn, and such a happening cannot be regarded as fortunate. For all that I kept a good heart. There was a certain prophesy made concerning me which led me to suppose I was not destined to die upon a gallows, or at the stake. Moreover, if you go upon a venture with Mad Nicholas you had best leave fear behind you.