"What says the ballad?" inquired the king, abstractedly and pensively.
"I have not, in sooth, much dependence on ballad wisdom, sir king," replied Rané; "but it is a true saying, nevertheless, if rightly understood:--
"The lapwing would fain guard everywhere,
And about the field doth fly;
But she guardeth not the little hill
Whereon she might rely."
"Alas, yes, my trusty Rané," replied the king, sorrowfully; "and the saying is as applicable to me. But did you fasten the door carefully? I thought I heard it shake in the wind."
"It does not shut closely, sire; but the bar will hold it against the greatest force. I fear the light is going out," he continued, hastily: "there must be a thief in the candle. Shall I lower it and see?"
"You may; but be cautious, as there is so much straw lying about; and take care that a gust of wind does not extinguish it. Come, I shall trim it myself."
Whilst they were busied with the light, the loud trampling of horses was heard outside the barn.