He was safe.
He was free.
All about him lay the sunlit, peaceful countryside. The hedges, on either side of the broad, winding road, were white with the blossoms of the wild rose. Beyond the hedges, stretched the open fields, a vivid, but restful, green in the bright noon light, broken, here and there, by clumps of tall trees, and rising, in a gradual, gracious curve to thickly wooded heights on the skyline.
A few cattle lay, motionless, on the grass, in the shade of the trees.
A young foal, startled by the passing of the car, scrambled up on to his long legs, and fled, across the fields, followed, more sedately, by his heavy, clumsy, patient mother.
One or two rabbits scuttled into the hedge, with a flash of their white bob-tails.
High up, clear cut against the cloudless blue of the sky, a kestrel hovered.
Yes. This was Paradise, unchanged, unchanging—
Soon the familiar turning into the narrow, tree shadowed lane, on the left of the road came into view. Swinging into the lane, the King slowed down the car yet once again, partly from habit, and partly because of his enjoyment of the summer beauty all about him.
He had plenty of time now.