He was out of breath, his clothes ruined and dirtied as he galloped down the cobblestone streets of the city, weaving between carriages and wagons to avoid the press of the crowds on the hoofpaths. Turning a corner, he ran into a poor courier pony gathering up news sheets for that evening’s edition of the herald, sending the sheets flying and landing in the dirty puddles by the kerb. A candlelighter with his long light pole hurriedly jumped out of the way of the speeding stallion, dropping the pole and extinguishing the flame before he could light the candles in the glass street lamps.