’ Chapter Three Captain Hilary Roding listened with only half an ear to the long-winded report being given by Sergeant Trodger, his idle gaze wandering over the congested traffic of Piccadilly and the many pedestrians weaving a hazardous path through it. G. “I’ve got it. "Where's Thames?" he hastily inquired. Funny how all but the most cunning and promiscuous teenage girls never caught on, not in 1400, certainly not now. Blank commissions, signed by the prince, to be filled up by the name of the person, who could raise a troop for his service, were liberally bestowed.
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