"Make my farewell," said Rodriguez, "to the King of Shadow Valley."

A twig cracked in the forest.

"Hark," said Miguel. "Maybe that was a boar."

"I cannot wait to hunt," said Rodriguez, "for I have far to go."

"Maybe," said Miguel, "it was the King's farewell to you."

Rodriguez looked into the forest and saw nothing.

"Farewell," he said again. The horses were fresh and he let his go.
Morano lumbered behind him. In two miles they came to the edge of the
forest and up a rocky hill, and so to the plains again, and one more
adventure lay behind them. Rodriguez turned round once on the high
ground and took a long look back on the green undulations of peace. The
forest slept there as though empty of men.

Then they rode. In the first hour, easily cantering, they did ten
miles. Then they settled down to what those of our age and country and
occupation know as a hound-jog, which is seven miles an hour. And after
two hours they let the horses rest. It was the hour of the frying-pan.
Morano, having dismounted, stretched himself dolefully; then he brought
out all manner of meats. Rodriguez looked wonderingly at them.

"For the wars, master," said Morano. To whatever wars they went, the
green bowmen seemed to have supplied an ample commissariat.

They ate. And Rodriguez thought of the wars, for the thought of
Serafina made him sad, and his rejection of the life of the forest
saddened him too; so he sought to draw from the future the comfort that
he could not get from the past.

They mounted again and rode again for three hours, till they saw very
far off on a hill a village that Miguel had told them was fifty miles
from the forest.

"We rest the night there," said Rodriguez pointing, though it was yet
seven or eight miles away.

"All the Saints be praised," said Morano.

They dismounted then and went on foot, for the horses were weary. At
evening they rode slowly into the village. At an inn whose hospitable
looks were as cheerfully unlike the Inn of the Dragon and Knight as
possible, they demanded lodging for all four. They went first to the
stable, and when the horses had been handed over to the care of a groom
they returned to the inn, and mine host and Rodriguez had to help
Morano up the three steps to the door, for he had walked nine miles
that day and ridden fifty and he was too weary to climb the steps.

And later Rodriguez sat down alone to his supper at a table well and
variously laden, for the door