They were none of them old; the oldest, said Dallach, scant of forty
winters, though many from their aspect might have been old enough.
So Face-of-god looked and beheld all these poor people; and said to
himself, that he might well have dreaded that sight. For here was he
brought face to face with the Sorrow of the Earth, whereof he had
known nought heretofore, save it might be as a tale in a minstrel's
song. And when he thought of the minutes that had made the hours,
and the hours that had made the days that these men had passed
through, his heart failed him, and he was dumb and might not speak,
though he perceived that the men of Burgdale looked for speech from
him; but he waved his hand to his folk, and they understood him, for
they had heard Dallach say that some of them were crying for victual.
So they set to work and dighted for them such meat as they had, and
they set them down on the grass and made themselves their carvers and
serving-men, and bade them eat what they would of such as there was.
Yet, indeed, it grieved the Burgdalers again to note how these folk
were driven to eat; for they themselves, though they were merry folk,
were exceeding courteous at table, and of great observance of
manners: whereas these poor Runaways ate, some of them like hungry
dogs, and some hiding their meat as if they feared it should be taken
from them, and some cowering over it like falcons, and scarce any
with a manlike pleasure in their meal.
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