Humphrey squares his shoulders, which takes a moment given the pauldrons. 'I choose combat,' he declares. 'For the honour of the hat.' Reginald records this with the expression of a man composing his own memorial inscription. The problem with combat against a goat, Humphrey reflects, is that lance protocol does not quite cover it. He sets the lance aside — formally, with both hands, at a respectful angle — and adopts what he believes is a defensive fighting stance, based on a manual he read incorrectly fourteen years ago. The goat watches. The hat watches. They have, at this stage, become functionally interchangeable. 'Does the hat count as armour?' Humphrey asks. Reginald consults Volume Four. 'The Statutes,' he says carefully, 'do not address hat classification.' Behind them, Goodwife Thripp's needles click once, with the measured weight of someone who has already predicted the next three events. The goat lowers its head.