I know not how it was. I dreamed all night that Ludar was calling to me to turn back, while the maiden was bidding me go forward; and betwixt them I was torn in two, and lay kicking all night, listening to the clatter of hoofs that went past, and fancying that while I tarried there, his Grace of Canterbury was carrying off my sweet Jeannette, I know not whither. It must have been towards morning when at last I shook off my nightmares and fell asleep. And thus it happened that, instead of being far on my road, at ten of the clock I still lay snoring, with all my day's work before me to reach Canterbury that night. As it fell out, I did not even do that. For close by Feversham I met a parcel of knaves who laid hold of me and rifled me of all I had, save one noble that I had hid in my hat. And because I showed fight, and ran two of them through, they wanted to hang me at the roadside and so end my travelling days for ay. But as they must needs find a tall tree, which was not to be had at the roadside, they hauled me away to the wood to make an end of me there. And since I walked meekly with my head hung down, they slackened their guard of me, so that presently I was able to make a dash away from them, and hide myself in the forest. I escaped them, but it cost me a whole afternoon. For I lost myself among the trees; and daring not to show myself, must needs lie low while the hue and cry lasted, and afterwards find my road under shelter of night as best I could. You may guess if I chafed not under this delay; specially as the way from there to Canterbury was too hard to be walked in the dark. Halt where I was, I must; but I did it, feeling that I might be too late, and that each moment lost to me was a gain to that foul Captain. At early dawn I was afoot, and before mid-day stood in the city of Canterbury. As in duty bound, I asked my way first of all to his Grace's palace (which was hard by the great Church), where I longed to have my master's business disposed of. Alack! his Grace was not to be seen, being away on a visitation; and his Grace's secretary had other matters to attend to, and sent word to me to enquire again to-morrow about the same time. So I was forced to let the business wait, much to my sorrow, and meanwhile seek to hear some news of Ludar's maiden. I remembered what Tom Price in his drunken speech had said of the nunnery, hard by which was a certain tavern by name of the "Oriflame," where I was like to hear of the English soldier, Jack Gedge. Thither, accordingly, I went, being told I should find it outside the walls on the Dover road. 'Twas a low, mean house, with little accommodation for man or beast, being, indeed, as much farmhouse as hostel, with naught but the flaming sign to tell me I might wade through the muck and litter to the door and there call for refreshment.