Of all that happened afterwards that night in Reigate town Denise had but a confused memory. She remembered being hurried along by the crowd, with shouting and tumult in the dark alleyways and streets. She had a memory of being crushed against a group of panting and fiercely exultant men who had blood upon their hot hands and faces. One of them had thrown an arm round her and kissed her, laughing when she shuddered and broke away. Once a couple of heads went dancing by on the points of spears, heads that seemed to mock with dead, open mouths at the jeering crowd below. Men were still fighting in one corner of the town, for Gaillard had got the remnant of his followers together, and was struggling to break through. Denise, still carried onwards, saw a black mass like the mass of a town gate rising before her. She was pressed against a wall as the crowd opened to let a file of mounted men ride through. She saw Aymery in his surcoat of tawny gold go riding under the arch of the gate, shield forward, sword swinging, his men crowding after him like sheep through a gap. Then the rush of the people carried her through the town gate into the space outside the barriers. And when the dawn came she found herself a mile from Reigate town, sitting under a tree, with a cold wind driving grey clouds across an April sky. CHAPTER XXVII Said Marpasse to Isoult: “If the Lord had loved us he would have kept the King at Oxford until we came there to drink wine.” And Isoult, a little woman, the colour of ivory, lithe and strong as a snake, threw a handful of sand at Dame Marpasse, and laughed. “Since they have taken Young Simon prisoner,” she said, “there will be no chance for the like of us under the banner of the Old Earl. God grant that Simon be soon put under the sods. He would freeze all the young men in the country. God prosper the King.” Marpasse had taken off one of her stockings, and was darning a hole in the heel, and darning it very clumsily. “They have slaughtered the Jews in London, and the King should come south again to see after the remnant of his flock. They say his host is moving nearer the river. We must look to our manners, my dear; I will be nothing under a great lady.” Isoult shot out a red tongue. “Supposing I look no lower than Prince Edward himself! We must fill our purses soon. These cursed marchings to and fro have left us out in the cold. Once in the King’s camp, I will sleep in a lord’s tent, and no other. And I will have siclatouns and silks, for there will be London and half the country to plunder.” Marpasse looked solemn. “They must beat Earl Simon out of the country first,” said she; “the old watchdog keeps the meat from being stolen. Phew, I would give something for a loaf of bread. We shall have to bide the night here, and chew grass. What a curse it is sometimes to wear gay clothes, and to have no gentleman near to take one up on his horse.”