There they found the Prince, sitting calmly on the floor--deadly
pale, indeed, for he expected a quite different end from this, and was
resolved, if he had to die, to die courageously, like a Prince and a
King.

But when they hailed him as Prince and King, and explained to him how
matters stood, and went down on their knees before him, offering the
crown (on a velvet cushion, with four golden tassels, each nearly as
big as his head),--small though he was and lame, which lameness the
courtiers pretended not to notice,--there came such a glow into his
face, such a dignity into his demeanor, that he became beautiful,
king-like.

"Yes," he said, "if you desire it, I will be your king. And I will do my
best to make my people happy."

Then there arose, from inside and outside the tower, such a shout as
never yet was heard across the lonely plain.

Prince Dolor shrank a little from the deafening sound. "How shall I be
able to rule all this great people? You forget, my lords, that I am only
a little boy still."

"Not so very little," was the respectful answer. "We have searched
in the records, and found that your Royal Highness--your Majesty, I
mean--is fifteen years old."

"Am I?" said Prince Dolor; and his first thought was a thoroughly
childish pleasure that he should now have a birthday, with a whole
nation to keep it. Then he remembered that his childish days were done.