Part 15 (1/2)

But John shook his head. ”I cannot stay,” he said. ”If my dear father will have me for his pupil still, I will go back with him. For though it is pleasant here, I love best the life of the woods and the freedom of the forest. And I long to learn what no one in this kingdom can teach me: the art of healing and helping, as did that good John whose name I bear.”

The Hermit's face beamed like May suns.h.i.+ne, but he said nothing.

”Then I will go to the forest with you!” cried the Prince. ”I will not stay here. I do not want to be king. I too would be free and happy in the Kingdom of the Forest.”

”And I will go also!” said the Princess.

”Hus.h.!.+” said the Hermit gravely. ”That may not be. Your duty lies here. When you are king, my Prince, you can make your kingdom into a happy place. Then, little Princess, you will be proud of it and of him. Your duty is to the kingdom where you were born, and to the people of it, whom you can make happier and better. But perhaps, some day when I am gone to a still fairer kingdom, John will be able to help you, as another John once helped another King.”

At this moment there was a noise at the window which led to the balcony, and the King stepped out to them. How long he had been standing inside, how much of their talk he had heard, no one knew.

The Princess flushed; but the Prince turned pale as he greeted his father respectfully. John and the Hermit exchanged glances. They were not afraid for themselves, but they dreaded the King's wrath for his son and daughter, who had threatened to run away.

The King stood for a moment, looking at the group with a frown. Then a peculiar smile twisted his lips.

”Ah!” he said, ”I have intruded, it seems, upon a council of State. I fear that I interrupt your plans, my son. But I trust that you and these n.o.ble visitors will pardon my desire to learn the state of your health. You must not be over-excited.” He waved his hand toward the Hermit and John, then bowed low to each of the animals in turn, with bitter mockery.

The Princess trembled, for she saw how angry the King was.

”We have no secrets, my friends and I,” said the Prince with dignity.

”We have nothing to conceal of which we are ashamed.”

The King looked at him quickly, as if suspecting that his words meant some reproach. But he only said, ”That is well.” Then his manner changed. He tried to appear merry and genial. ”And now, my son,” he said, ”since you are so much better, I wish to plan a festival in your honor, to celebrate your cure.”

The little Princess looked at him quickly. She suspected some treachery. But the Prince seemed pleased.

”For me?” he said. ”A festival in which these friends may share--these friends who saved my life?”

”Ay,” answered the King, bowing to the group once more with a peculiar smile. ”Surely, it shall be also in honor of these friends to whom we are so grateful.” The Hermit and John bowed. The King went on suavely: ”We will have a pageant, with music and games and singing.

But chiefly the people clamor to see our young friend do the wonderful tricks of which they have heard. I myself would fain see what you, my son, have found so amusing. My lad,”--he turned to John with a strange tone in his voice,--”you shall dance and tumble and put your animals through their paces, for the applause of my people. I command you to appear before us this day week and do your sprightliest. It is not often that we have the honor of entertaining a mountebank at court.”

He spoke the word ”mountebank” sneeringly, and John flushed. But seeing the Hermit sitting with downcast eyes, he merely answered:--

”I shall obey your Majesty's commands.”

”Then that is settled,” said the King, with a grunt of satisfaction.

”And you,”--he turned to the Prince,--”you will then be strong enough to sit at my side on the throne. It is well.”

He quite ignored the little daughter who with a pale face shrank in one corner. With one last glance at the group, the King swept from the balcony.

”A fete!” said the Prince, clapping his hands. ”A grand fete in your honor, my kind friends. That will be rare sport! John, you shall make the whole city laugh, even as you have cured me.”

”I shall do my best,” answered John. ”Yes, I will teach some of my little friends new tricks for that fete.” And he laughed as he thought how the Prince and Princess would stare when they saw Bruin dance.

John and the Prince left the balcony arm in arm, to talk over the plans for the fete. But the Hermit still sat with bent brows, thinking.

”Why did he call John a mountebank?” he asked himself. ”He hates us.