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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-labourers 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. Of two of the blankets he made a bed, then covered himself
with the remaining two. He was a glad monarch, now, though the
blankets were old and thin, and not quite warm enough; and besides
gave out a pungent horsey odour that was almost suffocatingly
powerful.
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