Chapter 7

John felt very uncomfortable. "If only I could make him laugh, now!" he thought. Then an idea came to him,--a funny idea which made his eyelids quiver and the brown spot wink.

With a twist of his body he suddenly stood upon his head at the foot of the Prince's couch, and, waving his feet in the air, began to walk about the chamber on his hands. The Prince uncovered his eyes and gazed in astonishment at such antics.

Presently John regained his feet, and kissing his hand began to turn somersaults vigorously all about the apartment. The little Princess clapped her hands and began to laugh. The Prince watched him, fascinated. Presently, as John's high spirits broke out into fuller pranks and gyrations, the Prince's lips quivered. He began to grin.

"Oh, you are a tumbler," he said. "I am glad you have come here! Do it again."

So John did it again; and this time the Prince, watching him, echoed the gay laugh of the little Princess. "It is as good as a play," he said, feebly wiping the tears of merriment from his cheeks. "I wish I could do it myself!"

"You must get well first," said John, laughing.

"I will try," said the Prince, with a new spirit in his tone. And from that moment he began to grow stronger.

Now came days when the palace was much happier than it had been for years. The presence of the animals was in itself a joy to the King's people, long starved for the lack of pets. And John's sunny face and quaint smile were reflected on all about him. There is nothing so catching as good humor, and John started an epidemic which spread through the palace, and indeed through the whole city. No one knew how it happened. But before long the flaxen-haired boy was the pet of the whole town. Not only was he welcome always in the Prince's chamber, but every door at which he knocked opened gladly to him, and he was at home wherever he went.

Only the King held aloof. He had grown strangely grim and sullen since his son's cure was assured. The King was jealous.

What with the animals to play with and John's tumbling, the Prince was continually in gales of laughter, and every day he grew plumper and more rosy. Sometimes it was Brutus who amused him; often the cat and kittens, his first friends. The raven became a great favorite after his introduction to the Prince, which happened in this wise.

John had delayed to bring the bird into the royal chamber, he was so mischievous. But one day when the Prince seemed very merry, John slipped out and fetched the black fellow on his shoulder. On being invited to do so, the raven hopped gravely to the foot of the bed, where he perched, eyeing the Prince with little round eyes and head cocked knowingly.

Presently the bird gave a queer screech, and began to imitate John's own laughter so exactly that the Prince shook with mirth. At this the raven stood upon one leg gravely, and began to sidle along the footboard of the bed. Presently he spied some fruit carved on the wooden uprights, and making a dart began to peck at the pears and peaches. Then, discovering his mistake, once more he began to chuckle, this time so heartily that he seemed ready to have a fit. And as he listened the Prince's mouth widened and he burst into roars of laughter.

"Hush, you foolish bird!" said John reprovingly. "Be not so noisy in a Prince's chamber. It is not good manners!" and he threw his handkerchief over the raven's head.

But the Prince protested. "Let him do his pleasure," he said, laughing. "I have not seen anything so funny for many a day. I shall teach him many tricks."

So the raven stayed with the Prince, and learned many tricks. And the carrier pigeon stayed. And the others stayed,--all but the wolf, who would never leave John,--making themselves quite at home on the Prince's velvet couch. And the little Princess played with them, enjoying the happiest hours of her life.

One only of the animals the Prince had not seen. The Hermit and John agreed that until he was stronger he must not see the bear whom he had once tried to kill. For they knew that now it would make the Prince sad and ashamed to remember that day in the forest. Such a change had come upon the young man! He was no longer hard and cruel, but tender and affectionate.

The King felt the change, and it made him angry.

XXIV

THE KING

Daily, as the Prince grew stronger, he became more and more devoted to the animals, to John and the good Hermit. He could scarcely bear them out of his sight. When they were with him his face lighted with smiles, and he seemed to blossom as a flower does in sunshine. Only in the presence of the King he grew silent and sad once more. The light passed from his eyes as he looked at the grim old man. A visit from the King was almost enough to undo the good effects of a whole day of happiness.

The King knew this, and it made him furious. He did not see that it was his own fault; that it was the badness in him which made the Prince shrink. He thought it was the doing of some one else. He grew to hate the Hermit and John and the animals, of whom his son and daughter were so fond. In his heart he cared little for any one. He had never loved the Princess Clare, and the Prince was dear only because one day he would be king. Yet Robert hated to see them love any one else.

The King was resolved to put an end to this state of things as soon as might be. But he dared not do anything yet for fear of causing his son to fall ill again. He sat and brooded and planned in his wicked heart what he would do when the Prince should be well once more. And for him the time went slowly which others found so happy.

Of all this the Prince and John guessed nothing. For the King seemed to them no more gruff and grum than usual. All the wishes of the strangers were regarded, and they were treated like distinguished guests in the palace. But the Hermit kept his eyes open. And one other was not blind to the King's hatred. Clare, the little Princess who had never been loved by her father, knew the meaning of the black looks which he sometimes cast upon the two forest-comers, and her heart was uneasy, for she loved them both.

The Prince grew so much better that he could walk about. One day he was lying upon his couch in a balcony overlooking the royal park. The Hermit sat close by, reading aloud from the book which he was teaching the Prince to love, as he had taught John. The little Princess bent over her embroidery frame at the foot of the couch, and John himself, on the floor at her feet, was playing with Brutus. The other animals and birds were straying about the balcony, or lay cuddled in the Prince's lap. John thought how like this scene was to the Animal Kingdom in the woods; yet how unlike. And he glanced from the Prince to the Princess with a smile of content. It seemed hardly possible that this was the land where no pets were allowed; where hunting was the favorite sport of the King and his son!

Suddenly, in a pause of the reading, the Prince put out his hand.

"Friends," he said, "you have taught me many things in these weeks that you have dwelt under this roof. You have cured me; you have made me laugh. I have been thinking much of late how it is that where you come folk are happy. Your faces make the world smile. How different from my father and me! We have always made every one weep. There has been something wrong, I know not what. No one loves us,--not even Clare here."

"O brother!" protested the little maid, "I have always loved you. But never so dearly as now, when you have grown so kind."

John spoke gently. "You will change all this when you are king," he said.

The Prince shook his head. "No, they will never love me as they do you. I would fain be different, but I can never be like you, John. You should be king, not I."

John laughed. "And what would become of the Animal Kingdom then?" he said. "My father and I have been talking together. We must soon go back to our woods and our little friends there."

"Oh, you must not go!" gasped the Prince, turning pale. "You must never leave me! I can never again be alone with the King!"

He looked so terror-stricken that the Hermit and John were silent for pity.

"I have been thinking," went on the Prince gravely, "that when I am king, if that time ever comes,--and they say that it must, since there is no other son of our house,--I shall need much help, for I am weak and not wise. You, good father, I would have you for my counselor. And you,"--he laid his arm affectionately on John's shoulder,--"you shall be my brother and share the throne with me."

"Nay, thrones cannot be shared thus," said the Hermit, looking at both boys with some agitation. "You are a king's son. But we are of the woods, my Prince. I at least have other work to do. As John says, there is the Animal Kingdom--what is to become of that?"

"Why, there will be no need for you to go to find it," answered the Prince eagerly. "When I am king all shall be changed. This shall be the Animal Kingdom. There shall be no more hunting or killing here. There shall be pets,--more than in any other land. For I have seen how unhappy are folk who live without them."

"Now God be praised!" cried the good Hermit, with tears in his eyes.

And John embraced the Prince heartily, while the little Princess clapped her hands and cried with shining eyes, "Oh! we shall all live together forever and ever, as happily as if this were the lovely forest which is John's home."

"Nay," said the Hermit gravely, "I cannot live here. I must go back to my woods. I have vowed never again to live away from my Forest Kingdom. But you, John, have taken no vow. Will you stay here with the Prince, or will you go back with me? Make now your choice."

John looked wistfully at the Prince and Princess, for he loved them well. He looked at the animals who crowded around him and seemed to be listening to his words. He knew how eager they were to be back in the forest. He looked at the Hermit.

"Oh, stay!" cried the Prince. "Stay and be my brother, and I will make you rich and powerful."

"Oh, stay!" begged the little Princess. "Stay and be my brother, too!"

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 sunshine, 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.

"Hush!" 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 noble 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. He is planning some mischief, I believe. It is time we were back in our Animal Kingdom."

He looked up. The Princess was touching his arm and her face was very pale. "Father," she said, for so the royal children loved to call the good old man. "Father, there is mischief in the air. Oh! do be on your guard. For I think it would break my heart if anything should happen to you or to dear John."

The Hermit stroked her hair gently. "Dear child," he said, "we will take care of him, you and I and the animals."

XXV

THE FETE

The day for the festival came at last. The Prince was now quite strong and well, and had taken a joyous part in the preparations. The palace was decorated with flowers; bands were playing, fountains splashing in the courtyard; banquets were spread at all hours for any one who would partake. The palace was merrier than it had been for years; and the centre of all the joy, the core of the day's happiness, was John. His praise was on every one's lips. His name, even more often than the young Prince's whose health they were celebrating, was spoken in love and tenderness.

But all this John did not seem to know. He only saw that every one was very kind; that the world might be a very happy place to live in, if love ruled the kingdoms of it. And he made ready for his share in the merrymaking with a light heart. It was great fun to play at being a mountebank once more for the people who loved him! Yet he was not sorry that the next day he and the Hermit were going back to the kingdom in the forest. He was longing for the peace and quiet of the woods, and the little wild friends who awaited them there.

The King he never saw. That monarch seemed anxious to keep out of his way as far as possible. John did not know that he and the Hermit were being carefully watched by the King's spies, and that they were really prisoners in the palace. For they were treated honorably, and the King sent word that John must ask for whatever he wished to make his performance a success.

John asked for little. Upon one thing, however, he had set his heart. He had made for that occasion a tumbler's suit of green silk, with trunks of cloth-of-gold--just such a suit as Gigi had worn when he was one of the mountebank company. But the boy who pranced gaily about the palace in this gorgeous attire was a very different fellow from the sad-eyed little Gigi. John was tall and sturdy and full of life. His eyes sparkled with fun and good humor, and looked at the world frankly as if expecting kindness from every one. So much had five years of love and humanity done for the little wanderer.

When John appeared in the courtyard ready for his performance, dressed in the familiar colors of long ago, he could not help chuckling to think how things had changed with him. Instead of Cecco and the Giant, by his side waddled the great bear on his hind legs; while Brutus walked sedately on his other side, and the gaunt wolf stalked behind.

The park was thronged with people, soldiers and citizens and peasants from the country, jostling one another for a sight of John and his pets,--and whispering among themselves with an excitement which John could not understand. For after all he was going to give a simple little show of tumbling such as they must have seen many times. "It is the animals," he thought. "It must be the animals that they are so eager to see."

John walked along, smiling into the faces which met his kindly, and the brown spot on his eyelid gave him the mischievous look which always made folk laugh. It was amid a ripple of good-natured laughter that he and his pets made their way to the platform which had been erected in front of the palace. Here on a high seat sat the King, and beside him the Prince, with a flush of pleasure on his thin cheeks. Gaily dressed lords and ladies stood about the throne. But somewhat apart and surrounded by his pets sat the Hermit in his gray robe, with folded arms. His hood was pulled over his face so that John could not see how grave he was. Two armed men stood behind him, but by his side, with her hand on his shoulder, was the little Princess. John smiled at her, when he bowed low to the people on the platform. And the little maid answered with a flash of affection; but her face was very pale, and her hand trembled on the Hermit's shoulder.

John led forward his animals and they began their tricks. The Hermit saw the Prince start when Bruin appeared. Evidently he recognized the animal which he had once tried to kill. Merrily John urged the clumsy fellow to dance, and every one laughed heartily at the sight. Only the King sat grim and sullen.

Then John put a plumed hat on the bear's head, took his arm, and the two strutted about the platform like a pair of dandies. The audience burst into roars of mirth. Even the Hermit's sides were shaking, and the little Princess rocked to and fro with merriment.

Straight up to the Prince marched the twain, and at John's command the bear bowed and held out his hand politely.

"He salutes you, his brother," said John to the Prince. "He begs you to be friends with him always."

The Prince bowed in return, with a bright flush in his cheeks. "I salute you, brother," he replied. "Never again will I hunt you or any animal, wherever I may be."

From the foremost of the crowd who heard these words came a loud "Hurrah!" and caps were tossed in the air. Evidently the Prince's sentiment was popular in the city.

"Tut, tut!" said the King, "we will see about that!" He bit his lip and bent a frown upon the group before him. The Hermit saw him whisper a word into the ear of one of his courtiers, who bowed and disappeared.

Now John put Brutus and the wolf through their tricks, which were wonderful indeed; for the dog was very intelligent, and had learned all that the best educated dog nowadays can do, and more beside. Then the wolf's leaping was a thing to wonder at, he was so lithe and strong. Over Brutus he leaped, over John's head, over the bear, over John standing on the bear's broad back.

At the end the Prince applauded heartily, and calling up the dog and the wolf, placed a golden collar about the neck of each.

"Good friends," said the Prince, "you helped to save my life, you and your brothers, and your masters. I give you these. But them I never can repay if I live to be as old as Noah, who was the first to gather pets about him. I hope that in time there may be many pets throughout the kingdom."

He glanced timidly at the King.

"Hurrah!" shouted the people. "Long live the Prince. Long live John and his animals! Hurrah! Hurrah!"

"No more of this!" The King made a gesture, and the shouting stopped, changing into sullen murmurs. The King was not popular, it seemed. "Let the performance proceed!" he commanded. "I do not like these interruptions."

Once more the Hermit saw him whisper to a servant, who went away quickly on some mysterious errand.

Now, with a happy face, John himself stepped forward and showed his skill and strength and grace. He turned somersaults backward and forward; he stood upon his head and danced upon his hands. He did all the old tricks which he had learned of the tumblers, and more of his own invention, till the people shouted rapturously, "Bravo! Bravo! Hurrah for our John!"

With his eye on the Prince, John began to caper at his merriest. He danced high, leaping like a grasshopper, and seeming to bound like thistledown. All the while his eyes twinkled, and the people laughed with delight.

"Bravo! John, bravo!" shouted the Prince, clapping his hands. "Come here and let me decorate you, my friend." And as John bowed before him the Prince placed upon his bosom a beautiful star of diamonds that gleamed and sparkled like a cobweb full of dew.

"Hurrah! Hurrah! Long life to John! John! John!" shouted the people, as if they loved the name.

And the Hermit saw that the King turned pale and shook with wrath at the sound. The next moment he grasped the arms of his chair and stared into the crowd eagerly.

Suddenly he arose, and, waving his sceptre, commanded silence. John bowed and turned to the King, waiting to hear his pleasure. But instead of the speech which every one expected, they saw the King gazing down into the crowd before him, and on his lips was a malicious smile. But he looked very old and sick, and he tottered as he held to the arm of his throne.

XXVI

THE TALISMAN

John turned his head to see at what the King was staring. There was a movement in the crowd. Men were being elbowed forward. A noise of harsh voices arose, and to the platform crowded three figures in rags and tatters.

They forced their way directly in front of the platform, and stood staring up. John stepped forward to see what it meant, and in a moment fell back with a cry of dismay. He was looking into the eyes of Cecco, Tonio and the Giant!