But all this time the father and the mother were in their cottage far away in the depths of the forest. At twilight the two often sat in the doorway and talked about their children. “They will come home some day,” declared the mother bravely. “We shall never see them again,” said the father. One night as they were saying this, they heard from far away a tramping of many horses. Up the forest road they came, their hoofs beating softly on the mossy ground. When they were in full sight, the father and the mother saw, first, a long line of knights in red armor, riding on milk-white horses; then a line of knights in blue armor, riding on horses black as the darkness itself. So they came. There were knights in green and knights in yellow; and last of all, there were three chariots abreast and an empty one behind them. The chariot on the left was made of steel that flashed in the light of the torches. In it sat a handsome young man. Beside him was his princess, and she was all aglow with softly gleaming pearls. On the right was an immense chariot of silver, and in this was a giant with so gentle a face that no one could ever be afraid of him, even though he was so large. He, too, had a bride sitting beside him. She had strings and strings of opals about her throat. Over them and over her face played a soft clear light that was almost like the moonbeams on the water. Between these two chariots was a third. It was all ablaze with diamonds, and in it sat one that every one who looked upon him would have known to be a king. The shadows were growing deeper, but a brilliant light that did not come from the torches was all about him and his beautiful bride. Whenever they spoke or looked at each other, the light flashed joyfully and made all around them as bright as day. The father and the mother sat in the door, saying never a word, but looking and looking and looking. The wonderful procession swept past their humble little cottage, until the three chariots were in front of the door. Then they stopped. The father and the mother rose quickly and bowed themselves before the king. “It is ordered that you shall no longer dwell in this cottage,” he said gravely. At first the father and the mother were too grieved and alarmed to speak, but finally the mother plucked up courage to plead:-- “O king, if you will only let us stay here till the children come home! We will do never a bit of harm. We won’t even pick up the dead sticks for firewood, or the dry grass to make our bed. If we go away, the children will not know where to find us, and we shall never see them again. Please, please let us stay till we have seen them just once more.” The king shook his head sternly and said:-- “You are to live here no longer.”