"I have the burgomaster's order." "I open the gates only on an order from the governor of the citadel," said the warder.
"I have not that, my good friend," responded Castleman, "but I have a hundred silver marks in my purse." "Let me see the burgomaster's order," said the worthy gatekeeper.

"I am always glad to be accommodating." Castleman handed over the order and the purse, and the warder pretended to read the paper in the dark.
"I'll open the gate to accommodate you and to please the burgomaster," he said.
The gates screeched upon their hinges, and every link in the portcullis chain groaned as if it wished to alarm the city.

When the portcullis was a-block, Max, myself, and the squires mounted our horses.

Yolanda leaned down from her saddle and, placing her arms about Castleman's neck, kissed him.

Twonette followed her example; then our small cavalcade passed out through the gate, and we entered on our long, hard race with the Duke of Burgundy.
At dawn Yolanda called me to her side.
"Our guide will conduct us to Cinq Voies on the Somme, eight leagues this side of Peronne," she said.