"Chisleu," he exclaimed, "is it you?"
But Chisleu did not answer, he still looked wearily up at Amer without a word. Then, noticing compassion written large across his friend's face, he groaned.
"Friend," said Amer, "are you in pain?"
"Aye, aye," answered Chisleu, "I'm in pain of body and mind. I'm in the dark, friend, in the dark."
"And not only in the dark," said Amer, glancing about him, "but in the hands of Despondency, Depression, and Despair."
"What, what," cried Chisleu, excitedly, awakened out of his torpor, and aroused to action, "do you mean to say it is the work of the enemy?"
"Surely, what else could it be?"
"I thought," said Chisleu, "the King had forgotten me."
"It is not the King who has forgotten you, but the enemy who has thought of you. The King never forgets His own. Had you been looking around you instead of giving up as if all were lost, you would have recognized it as the work of the three enemies which I now see hidden among the trees."
"Ah!" sighed Chisleu, "you do not know the terrors of this forest, I am overwhelmed by them."