It was the anniversary of his wife's death and, every year, he always set aside an hour to pray for her soul, the same date, the same hour when her breath had stopped rattling in her throat and she died of the fever, alone, except for a hedge priest, for Fauvel had been absent on the King's business in France. Fauvel had never really forgiven himself and vowed that on the anniversary of the date and time of her death as well as his neglect of her, God would see him on his knees in prayer. Fauvel scratched his balding head, grimacing at the cold seeping through his knees and thighs from the icy paving stones and tried to ignore the distraction of what he had so recently discovered. There was a traitor in England, the French were well informed about Edward's councils, as they were about their own designs and plots. Fauvel had chosen not to write to Edward about his anxieties but hoped the English embassy under King Edward's brother, the Earl of Lancaster, would soon reach Paris. Fauvel sighed.

He could not pray and soon the bells of Notre Dame would be tolling Vespers, a time of public worship as well as the signal for the beginning of the curfew. Fauvel got up, stretched and tried to rub the cold out of his thighs. Paris was dangerous at night and he was already anxious about Nicholas Poer, the spy from the English chancery whose regular meetings with him had so abruptly ceased. Was Poer alive or dead? Fauvel wondered. He shrugged to himself, such problems would have to wait until Lancaster arrived.

Fauvel pulled the hood close about his face, eyed the deserted, eerie church and stepped into the narrow, dark street. There were still a few people about but he hurried along, eager to reach his lodgings. A beggar rushed out of the shadows, whining for alms, Fauvel pushed him away but the fellow followed, tugging at his cloak and screeching for a sou. Fauvel turned cursing but the beggar persisted, following him like a tormented demon, loudly protesting and shouting abuse. At last, just outside his lodgings, Fauvel exasperated, stopped, turned and dug into his purse.