He stabled his horse in the yard in the Rue du Coq,behind the glover's house where he had lain the night before. Then he set out to find supper. The first taver served his purpose. Above the door was a wisp of red wool, which he knew for the Guise colours. Inside he looked to find a crowd, but there was but one other guest. Paris that night had business, it seemed, which did not lie in the taverns.