haft.

"My son!" cried the Hermit, laying trembling hands on John's shoulder.
"It was meant for you. You would have died had you not stooped at that
moment to caress the doe."

"Poor doe!" said John, kneeling beside her and busying himself with the
arrow. "You have saved my life. Now we must save yours. My father, I
think she is not badly hurt."

And he began to stanch the blood and bind up the wound with the skill
which the Hermit had taught him.

But the old man stood for a long time gazing into the forest after the
party of huntsmen. "A murderer and a coward," he said. "In sanctuary
he has shed innocent blood. For many evil deeds the price will surely
be paid. And the price is heavy."

XVII

THE MESSENGER

The little deer was not greatly hurt by the cowardly hunter. John and
the Hermit nursed her tenderly, and so great was their knowledge of
healing balms that she was soon nibbling the grass about their
dooryard, as sprightly as ever, save for a slight lameness in one leg.

Bruin was with them once more, a constant guest in the little circle.
The fright of that day when the hunters came to the forest had affected
all the animals, who clung closely to their two human friends, and did
not venture far from the hut.

Although John and the Hermit had never spoken together of the King
since that terrible day, the boy thought often about him, and about the
young Prince with whom he had wrestled for the life of the bear. And
John was troubled by many things. He thought how great must be the
suffering among the helpless animals when men so cruel were in power.
If animals were treated so, how must the poor and lowly people fare at
the hands of their lords and masters? Were the mighty so cruel to one
another,--to children and women and aged people? All these were weak
and helpless, too. John remembered the Hermit's tales of war and the
wickedness of cities, and his heart grew sick. What a terrible world
this was to live in, if the great and powerful were so bad!

But when John was most unhappy, longing to change it all, he would look
around the little hut where, surrounded by his animal friends, the dear
old Hermit sat under the wooden Cross, reading out of the great book.
Then John grew happy once more. For the Hermit had taught him well
from that holy volume.

"It will all come right some time," he said to himself. "Some day the
Lord will teach men better, and all will be peace and love as