nurse had told him once in anger that he would never leave the tower
till he died--he might be able to do this. Not that he understood much
what dying meant, but it must be a change, and any change seemed to him
a blessing.

"And I wish I had somebody to tell me all about it--about that and many
other things; somebody that would be fond of me, like my poor white
kitten."

Here the tears came into his eyes, for the boy's one friend, the
one interest of his life, had been a little white kitten, which the
deaf-mute, kindly smiling, once took out of his pocket and gave him--the
only living creature Prince Dolor had ever seen.

For four weeks it was his constant plaything and companion, till one
moonlight night it took a fancy for wandering, climbed on to the parapet
of the tower, dropped over and disappeared. It was not killed, he
hoped, for cats have nine lives; indeed, he almost fancied he saw it
pick itself up and scamper away; but he never caught sight of it more.

"Yes, I wish I had something better than a kitten--a person, a real
live person, who would be fond of me and kind to me. Oh, I want
somebody--dreadfully, dreadfully!"

As he spoke, there sounded behind him a slight tap-tap-tap, as of a
stick or a cane, and twisting himself round, he saw--what do you think
he saw?

Nothing either frightening or ugly, but still exceedingly curious. A
little woman, no bigger than he might himself have been had his legs