"A companion!" exclaimed the king, in surprise. "What sort of companion?"
"An owl," replied Careless. "A great horned owl. Behold him!—perched on that branch, puffing angrily at me for intruding upon his rest. I wonder he has not taken flight. I'll try and capture him. He may be of use to us."
"In what way useful? We are better without him than with him, methinks."
But the interdiction was too late. Careless had caught the owl by throwing his mantle over him.
"Here he is, sire!" he cried, delighted with his success.
"If thou couldst cook him now he is caught, there would be some gain," laughed Charles.
"He will serve to amuse us if he answers no other purpose," said Careless. "But hark! I hear a sound." And after listening intently for a moment, he added in a low voice to the king, "'Tis the trampling of horse. A patrol is coming this way."
"I hear the voices of the rogues. Are we perfectly concealed?"
"Perfectly, my liege. Keep quite still. I beseech you! The slightest noise may betray us."
From the sounds that reached their ears it was plain that three or four horsemen had halted beneath the tree, and were lamenting the ill success that had attended their search for the royal fugitive.