Snow [antikvár]

As the door swung closed behind him he was alone again. The tavern where they had huddled round the hearth and talked, as bottles and glasses stood glinting in the firelight, was no more; what remained was the darkness of the deep doorway and a wind that smelt of snow. Blinded by the icecold winter air, he had to steady himself against the wall; and as the last remnant of courage was driven out of him he looked at the stars. His father had taught him their names, but he had forgottén them all, except that of the white star in the north. 'Poláris,' he whispered, rubbing the back of his neck against the brick wall as a vast bank of cloud came rolling in from the sea, laden with snow. He did not see it, noted only that the stars were going out one by one and the wind was getting up, making the lantern above his head swing and creak on its hook. All the houses along the street lay in darkness, but in the flickering circle of lantern light he saw the snow that was beginning to fali, suddenly and swifdy and as if directed inwards, at him. The clock on the town hall struck nine. Once more he looked for the star with the beautiíul name, but the sky was now a block of darkness, punctured only by driving snow. The stars had gone out, the King was dead. And the wound on his arm refused to heal. 1