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John of the Woods, a fiction by Abbie Farwell Brown |
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Chapter 21. The Palace |
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_ CHAPTER XXI. THE PALACE At last they came to a great hall, full of people who seemed met for some solemn purpose. At the door stood the Grand Chamberlain in lace and velvet, holding in one hand his staff, and in the other an hourglass at which he was gazing earnestly. "What is this?" he said sternly, as the Captain approached with his prisoners. "Do you not know that this is a moment of life and death?" In a few whispered words the Captain explained matters. The Chamberlain stared sullenly at John. "No more wizardry!" he said at last. "We have had enough of that. The King has just passed judgment on the sorcerer. In five minutes he is to die. The doctors declare this to be the only hope for the Prince's life." "Oh, let me see him! Let me see my good father!" begged John, clasping his hands piteously. "I may yet save his life, I and these friends." As he said this, John had a sudden thought. He fumbled in his bosom for the silver Cross, and held it out with trembling hands so that the Chamberlain could see it. The man started back, turning pale and letting fall his staff of office. "What does this mean?" he cried, "Who is this lad? How came he by this token?" Once more the Captain whispered to him. The Chamberlain looked wildly at John, then at the hourglass, in which the last grains of sand had sifted down. "The time has come," he said; "the fatal moment is here! I should give the signal for which the executioners wait. But something holds me back. In Heaven's name, what does it all mean? Is it sorcery or--" "It is the Lord's will," said John quietly. "Oh, pray, let me see the King." "I do not understand," muttered the Chamberlain hoarsely. "But, in the name of the talisman which you wear, enter. Go alone. I dare not face the King with his order disobeyed." A broad aisle was left open down the hall through the ranks of lords and ladies. At the end of it was a tall gilt throne. And on the throne, clad in purple and gold, John saw a figure sitting, pale and terrible. It was the King. John knew his cold, cruel face, although the man had greatly altered in those weeks since the day of hunting in the park. For now the King's hair was snow-white and his body was bent like that of an old man. John fixed his eyes upon this figure and began to walk forward steadily. Beside him paced Brutus, looking up anxiously into the boy's face. In his right hand John led the bear, walking upright. The wolf slunk behind, with lolling tongue. In his arms John still carried the kittens, and on his shoulder perched the raven, while Blanche trotted behind him. It was indeed a strange sight. A hush came upon the hall, and every one stared open-mouthed as they passed along. At last the King himself, who was sitting with bent head, noticed the silence and glanced up. John, with his queer group, was now almost at the foot of the throne. The King started up with a cry of rage and surprise. He glared at the lad and at the animals with blazing eyes. "What does this mean?" he shouted. But at that moment John himself gave a cry. He had seen a figure that he knew, and, forgetting all else, he was hurrying towards it. At one side of the throne stood the Hermit, pale and sad, with his hands tied behind his back and a rope about his neck. He was guarded on each side by a man with a drawn sword. "My father!" cried John, throwing himself upon the good man's neck before the wondering guards could interfere. At the same time Brutus gave a loud bark of joy and leaped upon his master. "My dear son!" cried the Hermit, with tears in his eyes. "I thought not to see you again!" At the sound of his voice the cat gave a loud "Miaou!" and ran to him. The kittens squeaked and tried to climb his gown. The bear growled contentedly and trotted to his side. The wolf leaped to him with fierce pleasure. The raven hopped to his feet with a scream of Joy, and the carrier pigeon, with a soft "Coo!" fluttered to his shoulder. To the watching men and women of that court it seemed a miracle. For a moment all was silent. Then the King found voice. "What does this mean?" he cried again. "How have this vagrant and his vile beasts found entrance to my palace? It is the hour for execution, not for mummery. Why is not the signal given?" "O King," said John timidly, "they let me in because I said that I came to cure your son, if may be." "More sorcery!" howled the King, beside himself with rage. "Take him away! Slay them all,--the old man, the boy, the animals! I have waited too long already. Perhaps even now my son is dead!" He rose, trembling. But the Hermit's voice rang out now, loud and clear. "O King," he cried, "enough talk of sorcery and magic. This boy has come to help your son, who sought to slay him. He has brought the animals whose lives you covet, to show you how much you may owe to them. Lo, this carrier pigeon bore my message bidding him to come,--not for my sake. For I told him nothing of the danger in which I lay. This noble dog guided him to the village by a path which only he could follow. Now with these other animals he hopes to amuse the Prince and awaken him to life. There is no magic in this; only love, O King--the love which is lacking in your sad and sullen kingdom." There was a murmur in the crowd, which swayed forward toward John and the Hermit. For some seconds the King stood speechless, staring at the Hermit and the group around him. Then, with a wave of his hand, he bade the guards stand back. He turned to a black-gowned man on his right who had just entered the hall. "Does my son still live?" he asked in a choking voice. The doctor nodded gravely. "He still lives, Sire. But he is very low. He cannot survive many minutes." The King paled. "Let us hasten," he said. "It is the last chance. Perhaps the boy has skill." Then, turning to the little group of people from the forest, he beckoned grimly. "Come with me," he said. "Save my son's life, and you save your own. Otherwise I swear that you shall all die the most hideous and painful of deaths." Descending from the throne with tottering steps, for the King had grown a feeble old man, he led the way from the great hall. Behind him came the doctor and the Hermit. John followed, with the animals in his arms and close about his heels. So they came to the door of a room in one wing of the palace. _ |
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