“Hurry up and get him untied，” said the girl. “We can talk， afterwards.” Then she added， turning to Tirian， “I’m sorry we‘ve been so long. We came the moment we could.”
While she was speaking the Boy had produced a knife from his pocket and was quickly cutting the King’s bonds： too quickly， in fact， for the King was so stiff and numb that when the last cord was cut he fell forward on his hands and knees. He couldn‘t get up again till he had brought some life back into his legs by a good rubbing.
“I say，” said the girl. “It was you， wasn’t it， who appeared to us that night when we were all at supper？ Nearly a week ago.”
“A week， fair maid？” said Tirian. “My dream led me into your world scarce ten minutes since.”
“It‘s the usual muddle about times， Pole，” said the Boy.
“I remember now，” said Tirian. “That too comes in all the old tales. The time of your strange land is different from ours. But if we speak of time， ’tis time to be gone from here； for my enemies are close at hand. Will you come with me？”
