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?"