Yet the two slept on, well into the morn, well into the rout of Sadler's Wells.

Evidently they were weary.
The elder man was the taller of the two; as he lay on the bank beneath the hedge, he might even in that posture have been seen to own a figure of great strength and beauty.

His face, bold of outline, with well curved, wide jaw and strong cheek bones, was shaded by the tangled mat of his wig, tousled in his sleep.

His hands, long and graceful, lay idly at his side, though one rested lightly on the hilt of the sword which lay near him.

The ruffles of his shirt were torn, and, indeed, had almost disappeared.