Climbing up, several yards from the ground, he reached an opening which extended, not upwards, but horizontally, for thirty feet or more. Through this he crept, until he came to a second opening, which led upwards. Through this he began climbing, but soon found, to his sorrow, that it was filled with rocks and earth.
This opening was, no doubt, a private entrance to the cave, known only to the leaders of the first band of robbers, until accidentally discovered by King Brondé.
The obstructions which now filled this opening he, with great labor, at length removed. As there was no means of telling day from night, it was impossible to know how much time was thus consumed. By degrees he worked his way upwards, taking no rest, and at last felt himself grasping the roots of trees. And presently after, to his great joy, he perceived a ray of light! A faint, feeble ray, but it came, as he knew, from the warm sun and through the free air! Redoubling now his exertions, he pressed upwards, and not many hours elapsed before he sprang forth into the open air, and stood, a free man, upon the side of the mountain!
Not knowing how many of his enemies might be near, he concealed himself until evening, and then cautiously approached his palace. He watched and listened long, but saw no light, heard no sound. What, then, had become of all the ladies of the court? of his own Lily and precious Rosebud? He entered the palace, wandered through its deserted chambers, but found none to answer the questions he was so eager to ask.
He stood long by the window, gazing at the desolate scene around, vainly striving to think calmly, that he might decide upon some plan of action. The moon shone brightly, lighting up the deserted lawn, the woodland paths, the pleasant groves which had once rung with the music of happy voices! He heard the bleating of a goat near. It was a little white goat, belonging to Rosebud, and which she had fed daily. O, where was Rosebud now?
In his despair he was about to rush from the palace, when his attention was arrested by a noise like that of distant music. As it grew nearer, he could plainly distinguish the roll of drums. Nearer, still, it came, and he saw the glitter of spears in the moonlight.
“Magnus,” said he, “has returned; I will conceal myself.” He looked again. O, the joyful surprise! They were his own soldiers!—his City Guards! On they came, covering the vast lawn before the palace, the wide meadows, and reaching, he could not tell how far, into the woods beyond!
Now who had sent this army to the rescue of King Brondé? It was that same true friend, the wood-cutter. He had hastened to the city and sounded the alarm. The soldiers of the City Guard heard, in the dead hours of the night, loud cries.
“The king! The king is in danger! Arouse! The king! The king is buried alive! To arms! To arms!” And thus the whole city was aroused, and the City Guards marched with all speed to Long Forest. But when they saw him, alive and well, standing between the great brazen lions which guarded the palace gate, they were overcome with joy, and made the forest ring with cries and loud huzzas!