uickly, 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 i