The curtain on the door moved. Dio turned round and saw that Pentu had thrust his head in. She got up and went to speak to him behind the door in the covered passage leading to the river.
The early morning sky, grey as though covered with clouds, reminded her of the winter days when wet snow fell on Mount Ida. But the sun would rise and the sky would be as blue and cloudless as ever. White mist coiled like smoke over the low-lying meadows beyond the river, a water-bird among the reeds was calling in a creaking voice, and as though in answer to it the wheel of a well creaked somewhere in the distance. There was a smell of bitter smoke and winter freshness.
Pentu took Dio by the hand, led her away from the door and whispered in her ear.
"The king has come back...."
"Where is he?" Dio cried.
Pentu silenced her with a gesture.
"Sh-sh! She may hear. We must prepare her; if she heard suddenly it would be fatal...."
"Where is he?" Dio repeated in a whisper.
Pentu pointed to the door at the end of the passage. Dio rushed towards it, but stopped and put her hands to her head.
"Oh, Pentu, how are we to tell her? I cannot, you had better do it."