"Do not wait. Go at once. I shall try to send a horse for you to Craig's
ferry. If I fail, cross the firth without one. Here is a purse. The queen
sends it to you. Go! Go!"

I acted upon the advice, of Sir Thomas and hurried into the street,
snatching up my hat, cloak, and sword as I went. Night had fallen, and
darkness and rain, which at first I was inclined to curse, proved to be my
friends. I sought the back streets and alleys and walked rapidly toward
the west gates of the city. Upon arriving at the gates I found them
closed. I aroused the warden, and with the artful argument of gold had
almost persuaded him to let me pass. My evident eagerness was my undoing,
for in the hope of obtaining more gold the warden delayed opening the
gates till two men approached on horseback, and, dismounting, demanded my
surrender.

I laughed and said: "Two against one! Gentlemen, I am caught." I then drew
my sword as if to offer it to them. My action threw the men off their
guard, and when I said, "Here it is," I gave it to the one standing near
me, but I gave it to him point first and in the heart.

It was a terrible thing to do, and bordered so closely on a broken parole
that I was troubled in conscience. I had not, however, given my parole,
nor had I surrendered; and if I had done so--if a man may take another's
life in self-defence, may he not lie to save himself?

The other man shot at me with his fusil, but missed. He then drew his
sword; but he was no match for me, and soon I left him sprawling on the
ground, dead or alive, I knew not which.