stronger for his age than any man in the
country, and he was as handsome as a young Viking god. More than this,
he had a lion's heart, and before he was sixteen, the shepherds and
herdsmen had already begun to make songs about his young valor, and his
kingly courtesy, and generous kindness. Not only the shepherds and
herdsmen sang them, but the people in the streets. The king, his
father, had always been jealous of him, even when he was only a
beautiful, stately child whom the people roared with joy to see as he
rode through the streets. When he returned from his journeyings and
found him a splendid youth, he detested him. When the people began to
clamor and demand that he himself should abdicate, he became insane
with rage, and committed such cruelties that the people ran mad
themselves. One day they stormed the palace, killed and overpowered
the guards, and, rushing into the royal apartments, burst in upon the
king as he shuddered green with terror and fury in his private room.
He was king no more, and must leave the country, they vowed, as they
closed round him with bared weapons and shook them in his face. Where
was the prince? They must see him and tell him their ultimatum. It
was he whom they wanted for a king. They trusted him and would obey
him. They began to shout aloud his name, calling him in a sort of
chant in unison, "Prince Ivor--Prince Ivor--Prince Ivor!" But no
answer came. The people of the palace had hidden themselves, and the
place was utterly silent.

The king, despite his terror, could not help but sneer.

"Call him again," he said. "He is afraid to come out of his hole!"

A savage fellow from the mountain fastnesses struck him on the mouth.

"He afraid!" he shouted. "If he does not come, it is because thou hast
killed him--and thou art a dead man!"

This set them aflame with hotter burning. They broke away, leaving
three on guard, and ran about the empty palace rooms shouting the
prince's name. But there was no answer. They sought him in a frenzy,
bursting open doors and flinging down every obstacle in their way. A
page, found hidden in a closet, owned that he had seen His Royal
Highness pass through a corridor early in the morning. He had been
softly singing to himself one of the shepherd's songs.

And in this strange way out of the history of Samavia, five hundred
years before Marco's day, the young prince had walked--singing softly
to himself the old song of Samavia's bea