to play in the end, he must have worn it on his person until the
child--the true Heir-to-Empire----

The chiefs looked at each other furtively. There was a pause. Then
suddenly an old, thin voice--the voice of the old mountain chief, who
remembered Babar the brave--rose on the silence.

"God save the Heir-to-Empire!"

It gave the lead, and from every side rose the cry:

"God save the Heir-to-Empire!"

[Illustration: _The child had slipped it onto his little
forefinger._]

Prince Askurry's face fell. He had not meant to rouse loyalty, but he
was quick and clever, so he saw that it _had_ been roused, and that now
was not the time to try and stifle it. So his frown turned to a smile as
he caught the child to him and rose, holding him in his arms.

"The rogue, my lords," he said lightly, "has forestalled me. I meant to
place the ring upon his finger myself before you all, in token that he
does in truth represent our King, but praise be to Heaven! he has saved
me the task. Long live the Heir-to-Empire!"

But the nobles as they passed out of the assembly, and the people who
heard the tale outside, said it was a strange happening that the
innocent child should so claim his right. And cruel brother Kumran's
party laid their heads together once more, and swore it was time to end
Prince Askurry's foolish hesitation. They must get at the child somehow.

But by this time, if Prince Askurry had not quite made up his mind how
he should treat Baby Akbar, he had quite settled that no one else--least
of all cruel brother Kumran--should have anything to do with the child.
So the little prince was carefully watched and guarded, rather to
Foster-father's and Old Faithful's relief. Indeed, as time went on they
almost forgot to watch themselves, being accustomed to see the sentry
walking up and down before the entry to the narrow stairs that led up to
the three rooms in the old bastion which were given them as lodgings.
They were large, comfortable rooms, and the inner one was used by
Foster-mother, Head-nurse and Baby Akbar, the outer one by the two men
and the two boys, while the middle one, a great wide hall of a place,
they used as a living room. It was lighter than the others, since it had
slits of windows--without glass, of course--high up in the walls, and
though these let the cold as well as the winter sunshine into the room,
there was a roaring great fireplace, which kept the farther end of the
hall nice and warm. And here