It was no unusual thing for foot passengers to be set upon and Vane was on the alert.

His suspicions were confirmed by the sight of a man cloaked and with his slouch hat pulled over his forehead gliding into a narrow passage leading into Paternoster Row.
"Just as well, my friend, you've taken to your heels.

I've nothing to lose and you'd have nothing to gain, save may be a sword thrust." Congratulating himself on his escape from what might have been an ugly encounter, Vane plodded back to Grub Street.

He lingered in front of a Cripples' Gate tavern where he knew he should find some of his friends, but he thought of Lavinia's words and he resisted temptation.

That night he did that which with him was a rarity--he went to bed sober.
He had forgotten the cloaked man whom he had taken for an ordinary footpad.