The ground before the cook-tent was soft, and trampled by the girls' own feet.

On the final bend, the second-place car tried to go around the outside of the leader but spun off into the barrier.

He tried to drink the ale that Ulf shoved into his hand, but the liquid tasted bitter to him. Godwine was not really thirsty; it was time to screw up his courage now, before his companion was too far gone in drink.

Although nothing came of the scheme, it is one reminder among many that Protestants might hate idolatrous Spanish Catholics more than they did iconophobic Muslims.