Home > Authors Index > Abbie Farwell Brown > John of the Woods > This page
John of the Woods, a fiction by Abbie Farwell Brown |
||
Chapter 24. The King |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER XXIV. THE KING Daily, as the Prince grew stronger, he became more and more devoted to the animals, to John and the good Hermit. He could scarcely bear them out of his sight. When they were with him his face lighted with smiles, and he seemed to blossom as a flower does in sunshine. Only in the presence of the King he grew silent and sad once more. The light passed from his eyes as he looked at the grim old man. A visit from the King was almost enough to undo the good effects of a whole day of happiness. The King knew this, and it made him furious. He did not see that it was his own fault; that it was the badness in him which made the Prince shrink. He thought it was the doing of some one else. He grew to hate the Hermit and John and the animals, of whom his son and daughter were so fond. In his heart he cared little for any one. He had never loved the Princess Clare, and the Prince was dear only because one day he would be king. Yet Robert hated to see them love any one else. The King was resolved to put an end to this state of things as soon as might be. But he dared not do anything yet for fear of causing his son to fall ill again. He sat and brooded and planned in his wicked heart what he would do when the Prince should be well once more. And for him the time went slowly which others found so happy. Of all this the Prince and John guessed nothing. For the King seemed to them no more gruff and grum than usual. All the wishes of the strangers were regarded, and they were treated like distinguished guests in the palace. But the Hermit kept his eyes open. And one other was not blind to the King's hatred. Clare, the little Princess who had never been loved by her father, knew the meaning of the black looks which he sometimes cast upon the two forest-comers, and her heart was uneasy, for she loved them both. The Prince grew so much better that he could walk about. One day he was lying upon his couch in a balcony overlooking the royal park. The Hermit sat close by, reading aloud from the book which he was teaching the Prince to love, as he had taught John. The little Princess bent over her embroidery frame at the foot of the couch, and John himself, on the floor at her feet, was playing with Brutus. The other animals and birds were straying about the balcony, or lay cuddled in the Prince's lap. John thought how like this scene was to the Animal Kingdom in the woods; yet how unlike. And he glanced from the Prince to the Princess with a smile of content. It seemed hardly possible that this was the land where no pets were allowed; where hunting was the favorite sport of the King and his son! Suddenly, in a pause of the reading, the Prince put out his hand. "Friends," he said, "you have taught me many things in these weeks that you have dwelt under this roof. You have cured me; you have made me laugh. I have been thinking much of late how it is that where you come folk are happy. Your faces make the world smile. How different from my father and me! We have always made every one weep. There has been something wrong, I know not what. No one loves us,--not even Clare here." "O brother!" protested the little maid, "I have always loved you. But never so dearly as now, when you have grown so kind." John spoke gently. "You will change all this when you are king," he said. The Prince shook his head. "No, they will never love me as they do you. I would fain be different, but I can never be like you, John. You should be king, not I." John laughed. "And what would become of the Animal Kingdom then?" he said. "My father and I have been talking together. We must soon go back to our woods and our little friends there." "Oh, you must not go!" gasped the Prince, turning pale. "You must never leave me! I can never again be alone with the King!" He looked so terror-stricken that the Hermit and John were silent for pity. "I have been thinking," went on the Prince gravely, "that when I am king, if that time ever comes,--and they say that it must, since there is no other son of our house,--I shall need much help, for I am weak and not wise. You, good father, I would have you for my counselor. And you,"--he laid his arm affectionately on John's shoulder,--"you shall be my brother and share the throne with me." "Nay, thrones cannot be shared thus," said the Hermit, looking at both boys with some agitation. "You are a king's son. But we are of the woods, my Prince. I at least have other work to do. As John says, there is the Animal Kingdom--what is to become of that?" "Why, there will be no need for you to go to find it," answered the Prince eagerly. "When I am king all shall be changed. This shall be the Animal Kingdom. There shall be no more hunting or killing here. There shall be pets,--more than in any other land. For I have seen how unhappy are folk who live without them." "Now God be praised!" cried the good Hermit, with tears in his eyes. And John embraced the Prince heartily, while the little Princess clapped her hands and cried with shining eyes, "Oh! we shall all live together forever and ever, as happily as if this were the lovely forest which is John's home." "Nay," said the Hermit gravely, "I cannot live here. I must go back to my woods. I have vowed never again to live away from my Forest Kingdom. But you, John, have taken no vow. Will you stay here with the Prince, or will you go back with me? Make now your choice." John looked wistfully at the Prince and Princess, for he loved them well. He looked at the animals who crowded around him and seemed to be listening to his words. He knew how eager they were to be back in the forest. He looked at the Hermit. "Oh, stay!" cried the Prince. "Stay and be my brother, and I will make you rich and powerful." "Oh, stay!" begged the little Princess. "Stay and be my brother, too!" But John shook his head. "I cannot stay," he said. "If my dear father will have me for his pupil still, I will go back with him. For though it is pleasant here, I love best the life of the woods and the freedom of the forest. And I long to learn what no one in this kingdom can teach me: the art of healing and helping, as did that good John whose name I bear." The Hermit's face beamed like May sunshine, but he said nothing. "Then I will go to the forest with you!" cried the Prince. "I will not stay here. I do not want to be king. I too would be free and happy in the Kingdom of the Forest." "And I will go also!" said the Princess. "Hush!" said the Hermit gravely. "That may not be. Your duty lies here. When you are king, my Prince, you can make your kingdom into a happy place. Then, little Princess, you will be proud of it and of him. Your duty is to the kingdom where you were born, and to the people of it, whom you can make happier and better. But perhaps, some day when I am gone to a still fairer kingdom, John will be able to help you, as another John once helped another King." At this moment there was a noise at the window which led to the balcony, and the King stepped out to them. How long he had been standing inside, how much of their talk he had heard, no one knew. The Princess flushed; but the Prince turned pale as he greeted his father respectfully. John and the Hermit exchanged glances. They were not afraid for themselves, but they dreaded the King's wrath for his son and daughter, who had threatened to run away. The King stood for a moment, looking at the group with a frown. Then a peculiar smile twisted his lips. "Ah!" he said, "I have intruded, it seems, upon a council of State. I fear that I interrupt your plans, my son. But I trust that you and these noble visitors will pardon my desire to learn the state of your health. You must not be over-excited." He waved his hand toward the Hermit and John, then bowed low to each of the animals in turn, with bitter mockery. The Princess trembled, for she saw how angry the King was. "We have no secrets, my friends and I," said the Prince with dignity. "We have nothing to conceal of which we are ashamed." The King looked at him quickly, 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 in our Animal Kingdom." He looked up. The Princess was touching his arm and her face was very pale. "Father," she said, for so the royal children loved to call the good old man. "Father, there is mischief in the air. Oh! do be on your guard. For I think it would break my heart if anything should happen to you or to dear John." The Hermit stroked her hair gently. "Dear child," he said, "we will take care of him, you and I and the animals." _ |
||