Late in the afternoon Guy sallied out in the disguise in which he had arrived. His hair was a tawny brown. He had left his basket behind him, and carried a heavy cudgel in his hand. He sauntered quietly along, stopping often to stare at the goods on the stalls, and at nobles who rode past followed generally by two or three esquires. No one would doubt that he was a young countryman freshly arrived in Paris.

He had sent a message to the count by Jules Varoy that he would pass along the street in the disguise of a young peasant as the clock struck seven, and that if he saw no White Hoods about he would look up at the casement, return a minute or two afterwards, and then try if the door was unfastened. If so he would come in, while if it were fastened he should consider that it was judged unsafe for him to enter. He caught sight of Katarina's face at the window as he glanced up. There was a patrol of the White Hoods in sight, but it was far down the street, and after going a few yards past the house he crossed the road, and as he returned he pushed at the door. It yielded at once, and with a glance round to see that no one was watching he entered quickly and closed it behind him.