So, saying farewell, with many kind words on her part, I rode towards Tours, where Elliot and her father as then dwelt, in that same house where I had been with them to be healed of my malady, after the leaguer of Orleans.
To Tours I rode, telling them not of my coming, and carrying the jackanapes well wrapped up in furs of the best.

The weather was frosty, and folk were sliding on the ice of the flooded fields near Tours when I came within sight of the great Minster.

The roads rang hard; on the smooth ice the low sun was making paths of gold, and I sang as I rode.
Putting up my horse at the sign of the "Hanging Sword," I took the ape under my great furred surcoat, and stole like a thief through the alleys, towards my master's house.

The night was falling, and all the casement of the great chamber was glowing with the colour and light of a leaping fire within.

There came a sound of music too, as one touched the virginals to a tune of my own country.