lad? We will know!"

"Who but John," answered the Hermit, with kindling eyes. "Who but
John, the good man's son,--my brother's son. I know, for I christened
the child, and I saw the King hang this Cross about the baby's neck, a
Cross like the one he had given John himself. This is the child who
disappeared fourteen years ago. The King sent him away to be killed.
But the servant to whom the task fell was less cruel. The child was
set adrift on the ocean, and escaped as you have heard. Will you let
him be lost again?"

"No! No!" roared the crowd. "He shall not go! He shall not go!" And
they seized the three mountebanks and hustled them away.

With a shout the King's own guards rushed forward to help in this
matter. There was a cry at the back of the platform. The King had
fallen in a fit. But few at the moment were thinking of him. The
people were throwing up their caps and dancing joyously.

"John! John!" they shouted. "We knew the silver Cross which the holy
John always wore when he went about doing good to us. Oh, we remember
now! We shall never again forget! John! Hurrah for his son John!"

John himself stood bewildered, and the animals around him shivered and
looked surprised. They were not used to such tumults. Suddenly John
felt his hand clasped softly. The little Princess was at his side,
looking up in his face and smiling through tears. "Dear John!" she
said. "Now you are safe. Now you will be our brother indeed!"

"Yes, he is safe," said the Hermit, embracing the boy tenderly. "My