There was a moment of silence, then we heard a soft knock on the cabin door.

It made me shiver.

Presently the knock was repeated, and then we heard these words in a guarded voice: "Mother! Father! Open--we have got free, and we bring news to pale your cheeks but glad your hearts; and we may not tarry, but must fly! And--but they answer not.

Mother! father!--" I drew the king toward the other end of the hut and whispered: "Come--now we can get to the road." The king hesitated, was going to demur; but just then we heard the door give way, and knew that those desolate men were in the presence of their dead.
"Come, my liege! in a moment they will strike a light, and then will follow that which it would break your heart to hear." He did not hesitate this time.

The moment we were in the road I ran; and after a moment he threw dignity aside and followed.
I did not want to think of what was happening in the hut--I couldn't bear it; I wanted to drive it out of my mind; so I struck into the first subject that lay under that one in my mind: "I have had the disease those people died of, and so have nothing to fear; but if you have not had it also--" He broke in upon me to say he was in trouble, and it was his conscience that was troubling him: "These young men have got free, they say--but _how_?
It is not likely that their lord hath set them free." "Oh, no, I make no doubt they escaped." "That is my trouble; I have a fear that this is so, and your suspicion doth confirm it, you having the same fear." "I should not call it by that name though.