"Well, I've never tried, but I dare say I could if they didn't go _too_
fast."
"No, I don't think they'll go fast," he said. "Here, let me lift you on.
There, catch hold of the horns of the collar."
And in a moment the Queen was seated sideways on the great horse. The
ploughman made his way to the horse's head and led it down the valley
again. The other horse went quietly along by the side of them.
"How delicious everything looks in the owl-light!" the Queen said.
And the ploughman sighed. "I--I can't see it." he said. "I can't see
anything. I'm blind."
The Queen said, "Blind! Why, I should never have known it. You are as
skilful as any one else."
The ploughman answered, "Oh yes, I can manage pretty well because I'm
used to it, and there are many ways of managing things; but it is an
affliction."
The horses went carefully down the hill, and in a little space they had
reached the valley whence the Queen had started. It was now quite dark
there, and the harvest moon had not yet arisen, but at no great distance
from them the Queen could see a light winking.
So the horses plodded along, stopping now and again to crop a mouthful
of grass or drink a draught from the tinkling rill, whose sound had
grown loud in the twilight silence. In a very short while they had come
to where a little farmhouse lay in the bottom of the valley among trees,
that looked black in the starlight.