He stumbled along, through the gruesome fascinations of this new
experience, startled occasionally by the soft rustling of the dry
leaves overhead, so like human whispers they seemed to sound; and by
and by he came suddenly upon the freckled light of a tin lantern
near at hand. He stepped back into the shadows and waited. The lantern
stood by the open door of a barn. The king waited some time- there was
no sound, and nobody stirring. He got so cold, standing still, and the
hospitable barn looked so enticing, that at last he resolved to risk
everything and enter. He started swiftly and stealthily, and just as
he was crossing the threshold he heard voices behind him. He darted
behind a cask, within the barn, and stooped down. Two farm laborers
came in, bringing the lantern with them, and fell to work, talking
meanwhile. Whilst they moved about with the light, the king made
good use of his eyes and took the bearings of what seemed to be a
good-sized stall at the further end of the place, purposing to grope
his way to it when he should be left to himself. He also noted the
position of a pile of horse-blankets, midway of the route, with the
intent to levy upon them for the service of the crown of England for
one night.
By and by the men finished and went away, fastening the door
behind them and taking the lantern with them. The shivering king
made for the blankets, with as good speed as the darkness would allow;
gathered them up and then groped his way safely to the stall.
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