the paper we had hidden in our tunic together
with the written pages we had brought for the World Council of Scholars,
but never given to them. We have much to speak of to ourselves, and we
hope we shall find the words for it in the days to come. Now, we cannot
speak, for we cannot understand.

Chapter Nine

We have not written for many days. We did not wish to speak. For we
needed no words to remember that which has happened to us.

It was on our second day in the forest that we heard steps behind us. We
hid in the bushes, and we waited. The steps came closer. And then we saw
the fold of a white tunic among the trees, and a gleam of gold.

We leapt forward, we ran to them, and we stood looking upon the Golden
One.

They saw us, and their hands closed into fists, and the fists pulled
their arms down, as if they wished their arms to hold them, while their
body swayed. And they could not speak.

We dared not come too close to them. We asked, and our voice trembled:

"How come you to be here, Golden One?"

But they whispered only:

"We have found you...."

"How came you to be in the forest?" we asked.

They raised their head, and there was a great pride in their voice; they
answered:

"We have followed you."

Then we could not speak, and they said:

"We heard that you had gone to the Uncharted Forest, for the whole City
is speaking of it. So on the night of the day when we heard it, we ran
away from the Home of the Peasants. We found the marks of your feet
across the plain where no men walk. So we followed them, and we went
into the forest, and we followed the path where the branches were broken
by your body."

Their white tunic was torn, and the branches had cut the skin of their
arms, but they spoke as if they had never taken notice of it, nor of
weariness, nor of fear.

"We have followed you," they said, "and we shall follow you wherever you
go. If danger threatens you, we shall face it also. If it be death,
we shall die with you. You are damned, and we wish to share your
damnation."

They looked upon us, and their voice was low, but there was bitterness
and triumph in their voice:

"Your eyes are as a flame, but our brothers have neither hope nor fire.
Your mouth is cut of granite, but our brothers are soft and humble. Your
head is high, but our brothers cringe. You walk, but our brothers crawl.
We wish to be damned with you, rather than be blessed with all our
brothers. Do as you please w