Philip carried a heavy hammer on his shoulder.

Pierre had a large butcher's knife stuck conspicuously in his girdle.

He was bare headed and had dipped his head in water, so that his hair fell matted across his face, which was grimy and black.
Day was now breaking, but the light was as yet faint.
"Keep close to me, Claire," Philip said as they reached the street, which was ablaze with torches.

"Above all things do not shrink, or seem as if you were afraid." "I am not afraid," she said.

"God saved me before from as great a peril, and will save me again, if it seems good to Him." "Keep your eyes fixed on me.