They were splendidly mounted and their horses broke into an easy canter, tossing their long manes and snorting, as if with joy. Through verdant plains, through teeming cornfields, through villages and small towns, onwards they galloped till the lights of Mechlin came in sight. Presently they were riding gently through the ancient town, and the carillon in the lofty belfry of St. Rombaut rang out the hour of two as they drew rein in the Grande Place. The city watchmen gathered round them, eager to do them service as soon as Geoffrey had informed them that he rode on the King's business. Corn and water were quickly found for the horses, wine from some secret store for the men (the hotels were fast locked for the night), for all of which things Geoffrey paid with free hand. Thus half-an-hour was spent, then the horsemen remounted their steeds and they cantered gaily out of the town. "Heigh ho, for Antwerp, our last stage!" cried Geoffrey, as they rode out into the darkness. So fresh were their horses that they rode now at full gallop, and the country seemed to fly by them. A grey light was tingeing the eastern horizon as they drew near Antwerp, the dawn had begun as they rode up to the watch-towers of the fortified town. Their approach had been signalled by trumpet blasts, and a strong body of town-guards awaited them. The horsemen drew up as the captain of the guard approached them, and to him Geoffrey handed his papers as he said— "On the King's service!" Everything was _en règle_, and in a few moments the great gates were opened and the party entered Antwerp and proceeded direct to the Quai. Antwerp was waking up, and already crowds of men were making their way to the great dockyard of the city. Sailors of many nationalities were proceeding to their ships, which lay at anchor on the broad waters of the noble river Scheldt. Lord Clinton had provided Geoffrey with a "King's mandate" addressed to the dock-master, and the party soon found their way to that functionary's official residence. Herr Van Luhys, the worthy dock-master, had not yet opened his doors to the outside world, and the sleepy watchman gazed with dismay at the six horsemen who, dismounted, stood at the door asking for immediate audience. It was not till Geoffrey had slipped a doubloon into the man's hand that he consented to awake his master and to convey a message to him. But the words "On the King's Service" soon brought the dock-master into the hall, where the three Englishmen awaited him. Geoffrey handed the King's mandate to him, at the sight of which document Herr Van Luhys bowed low and asked his early visitors to be seated, while he read the mandate. The effect was immediate.