Then the poor fellow's
heart sank, to hear the hermit say:
'Ah, it came from without- I think from the copse yonder. Come,
I will lead the way.'
The king heard the two pass out talking; heard their footsteps die
quickly away- then he was alone with a boding, brooding, awful
silence.
It seemed an age till he heard the steps and voices approaching
again- and this time he heard an added sound- the trampling of
hoofs, apparently. Then he heard Hendon say:
'I will not wait longer. I cannot wait longer. He has lost his way
in this thick wood. Which direction took he? Quick- point it out to
me.'
'He- but wait; I will go with thee.'
'Good- good! Why, truly thou art better than thy looks. Marry, I
do think there's not another archangel with so right a heart as thine.
Wilt ride? Wilt take the wee donkey that's for my boy, or wilt thou
fork thy holy legs over this ill-conditioned slave of a mule that I
have provided for myself?- and had been cheated in, too, had he cost
but the indifferent sum of a month's usury on a brass farthing let
to a tinker out of work.'
'No- ride thy mule, and lead thine ass; I am surer on mine own
feet, and will walk.'
'Then, prithee, mind the little beast for me while I take my
life in my hands and make what success I may toward mounting the big
one.'
Then followed a confusion of kicks, cuffs, tramplings and
plungings, accompanied by a thunderous intermingling of volleyed
curses, and finally a bitter apostrophe to the mule, which must have
broken its spirit, for hostilities seemed to cease from that moment.
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