And Morano pointed through a window at the back of the
room to another cottage among the trees, fifty paces away. A red
glow streamed from its windows, growing strong in the darkening
forest.
"That is their kitchen, master," he said. "The whole house is
kitchen." His eyes looked eagerly at it, for, though he loved
bacon, he welcomed the many signs of a dinner of boundless
variety.
As he and his master returned to the long hall great plates of
polished wood were being laid on the table. They gave Rodriguez a
place on the right of the great chair that had the crown of the
forest carved on the back.
"Whose chair is that?" said Rodriguez.
"The King of Shadow Valley," they said.
"He is not here then," said Rodriguez.
"Who knows?" said a bowman.
"It is his chair," said another; "his place is ready. None knows
the ways of the King of Shadow Valley."
"He comes sometimes at this hour," said a third, "as the boar
comes to Heather Pool at sunset. But not always. None knows his
ways."
"If they caught the King," said another, "the forest would perish.
None loves it as he, none knows its ways as he, no other could so
defend it."
"Alas," said Miguel, "some day when he be not here they will enter
the forest." All knew whom he meant by they. "And the goodly trees
will go." He spoke as a man foretelling the end of the world; and,
as men to whom no less was announced, the others listened to him.
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