king, all bewildered, sat down and stared about him. Presently a
chamberlain came across and asked him why he sat unbidden in the king's
presence. 'But I am the king!' he cried.

'What king?' said the chamberlain.

'The true king of this country,' said he indignantly.

Then the chamberlain went away, and spoke to the king who sat on the
throne, and the old king heard words like 'mad,' 'age,' 'compassion.'
Then the king on the throne called him to come forward, and, as he
went, he caught sight of himself reflected in the polished steel shield
of the bodyguard, and started back in horror! He was old, decrepit,
dirty, and ragged! His long white beard and locks were unkempt, and
straggled all over his chest and shoulders. Only one sign of royalty
remained to him, and that was the signet ring upon his right hand. He
dragged it off with shaking fingers and held it up to the king.

'Tell me who I am,' he cried; 'there is my signet, who once sat where
you sit--even yesterday!'

The king looked at him compassionately, and examined the signet with
curiosity. Then he commanded, and they brought out dusty records and
archives of the kingdom, and old coins of previous reigns, and compared
them faithfully. At last the king turned to the old man, and said:
'Old man, such a king as this whose signet thou hast, reigned seven
hundred years ago; but he is said to have disappeared, none know
whither; where got you the ring?'

Then the old man smote his breast, and cried out with a loud