“It is true; but they will not hurt thee or me. Remember whose son thou art.”
“Ay, I am the king’s son; but I would fain have a morsel to eat.”
Just then there was a crackling among the underwood, and a sound of voices approaching the spot.
The boy clutched his mother’s hand and trembled. She stood pale and motionless.
The sound of feet grew nearer, and presently the voices of those who spoke became distinguishable.
“Some will be sure to find their way to this wood,” said one.
“I hope such as do may have full purses,” said another. “I have taken nothing these three days.”
“Ay, truly, and these wars have made folk so poor, they are not worth robbing when we do find them.”
“Soft! methought I heard a voice!” suddenly said one of the speakers.
The band halted and listened, and then, hearing nothing, pushed on.