THE FETE

The day for the festival came at last. The Prince was now quite strong
and well, and had taken a joyous part in the preparations. The palace
was decorated with flowers; bands were playing, fountains splashing in
the courtyard; banquets were spread at all hours for any one who would
partake. The palace was merrier than it had been for years; and the
centre of all the joy, the core of the day's happiness, was John. His
praise was on every one's lips. His name, even more often than the
young Prince's whose health they were celebrating, was spoken in love
and tenderness.

But all this John did not seem to know. He only saw that every one was
very kind; that the world might be a very happy place to live in, if
love ruled the kingdoms of it. And he made ready for his share in the
merrymaking with a light heart. It was great fun to play at being a
mountebank once more for the people who loved him! Yet he was not
sorry that the next day he and the Hermit were going back to the
kingdom in the forest. He was longing for the peace and quiet of the
woods, and the little wild friends who awaited them there.

The King he never saw. That monarch seemed anxious to keep out of his
way as far as possible. John did not know that he and the Hermit were
being carefully watched by the King's spies, and that they were really
prisoners in the palace. For they were treated honorably, and the King
sent word that John must ask for whatever he wished to make his
performance a success.

John asked for little. Upon one thing, however, he had set his heart.