This conversation had brought them back to the gate of the good city of Basle, and at the first turning the friends took a kindly leave of each other, their difference of opinion having no effect upon a friendship which had united them for years. Walter was full of curiosity and interest. He wanted to hear more of Charles the Bold, and besieged his father with questions till he could stand it no longer and sent the boy to bed. Chapter II At The Bears An unwonted stir pervaded the streets of Basle, as if some festival were being celebrated. No signs of traffic were visible, and the people were in holiday attire. The streets were full of strangers, who were easily distinguished by the curious glances with which they regarded the houses and public buildings; while at every corner burghers might be seen directing men-at-arms with swords at their sides through the maze of narrow lanes. Two horsemen slowly made their way through the throng, the foremost of whom wore the uniform of an officer and displayed the badge of the Duke of Burgundy. The other, a few paces behind, was a groom. At length they reined in their steeds. “Ho there! my friend,” cried the officer in good Swiss dialect to a citizen, “can you direct me to an inn called The Bears?” “Aye, truly, sir,” was the answer; “you have only to ride up this street, then turn to the right; again to the left at the next cross street, and you cannot miss it.” “Thank you,” said the officer as he rode off followed by his servant, the horses carefully picking their way over the rough pavement, through the centre of which a row of large stones had been laid. Indeed, it was scarcely safe for the riders themselves to leave the middle of the passageway, for long iron bars protruded from the houses, bearing signs denoting the trade of their occupants, such as glass work for a glazier, the horseshoe for a smith, and the key for a locksmith. At one place the signboard of an alehouse almost carried away the officer’s iron helm. They turned to the right and then to the left, according to their directions, and found themselves in a street somewhat wider than the rest, where they soon discovered The Bears, a new and well-built tavern, over the door of which hung a sign emblazoned with the beasts that gave the inn its name. A serving man sprang from the huge gateway to assist the officer to dismount, and led his horse away to the stables, while the host himself, Ulrich Iseli, came forward to escort his guest up the stairs. “This is a fine place you have here,” said the latter. “Inns like this, whether Swiss or German, are seldom to be found.”