One day as he was giving way to rather sad thoughts he noticed three small people sitting together by the roadside. They looked dreary and were dressed all in grey. Forgetting the warnings of the Ambassador, Amer sat down by their side and entered into a conversation. He soon found that their company instead of comforting him depressed him greatly. "Where are you going to?" they asked him. "To the Radiant City," was his answer. "You will never get there," said one of them, "you have not the air of a servant of the Great King. When we saw you, you were looking dreary and forlorn." "I feel lonely at times," he answered. "But I thought your Book tells you that you are never alone. You cannot be one of the Great King's soldiers if you feel lonely." "How long have you been on your journey?" asked another. "Two months," was his answer. "I started late I grieve to say." "Only two months! then you have wasted some of the best years of your life; you do not suppose the King will accept anyone who has despised His message all those years, do you? How do you know that you are His soldier and accepted by Him?" "I see no sign of you being different from others whom I meet," said a third, "you still have the look of the Dark City upon you. How do you know that you belong to Him?" "I met the Ambassador and he told me that the King loved me," said Amer. "The Ambassador cannot tell. He does not really know all your sins. Think of all those years in the Dark City, all the time you have forgotten the King." "Think of how you turned round after making resolves to begin your journey," said one of them who had evidently heard his story. "But it was for sinners that the King died," answered Amer. "Yes, but not for sinners like you. Besides if you were one of His servants you would look more cheerful and get on faster. Why you have been two months on the way and have only got so far." "How do you know that He has accepted you?" persisted another. "Because He cannot break His word," said Amer, "and He has said, 'him that cometh to Me, I will in no wise cast out;'" then turning round suddenly upon them, he asked, "What is your name?" "We are a family of the name of Morbid," they answered, "and we take upon ourselves the duty of warning people if we think they are deceiving themselves." "I must not tarry here talking to you," said Amer, beginning to wish he had not taken any notice of the Morbids, "I must be continuing my journey," at which he rose from his seat. But the little grey clad men would not leave him, they ran by his side and would take no hint from him as to his wish to be rid of their company. For a mile or two they trotted beside him, filling his mind with all sorts of gloomy forebodings, and the more he hurried hoping to out-distance them, the quicker they ran, till at last, somewhat out of breath, they took hold of his coat and so helped themselves along. Amer began to be suspicious of them.