heard them not.

"Yes, yes," said he, as soon as the tumult had a little subsided: and
his voice sounded firm and clear; and some very old people, who boasted
of having seen him as a child, declared that his face took a sudden
change, and grew as young and sweet as that of the little Prince Dolor.
"Yes, I must go. It is time for me to go. Remember me sometimes, my
people, for I have loved you well. And I am going a long way, and I do
not think I shall come back any more."

He drew a little bundle out of his breast pocket--a bundle that nobody
had ever seen before. It was small and shabby-looking, and tied up
with many knots, which untied themselves in an instant. With a joyful
countenance, he muttered over it a few half-intelligible words. Then,
so suddenly that even those nearest to his Majesty could not tell how it
came about, the King was away--away--floating right up in the air--upon
something, they knew not what, except that it appeared to be as safe and
pleasant as the wings of a bird.

And after him sprang a bird--a dear little lark, rising from whence
no one could say, since larks do not usually build their nests in the
pavement of city squares. But there it was, a real lark, singing far
over their heads, louder and clearer and more joyful as it vanished
further into the blue sky.

Shading their eyes, and straining their ears, the astonished people
stood until the whole vision disappeared like a speck in the clouds--the
rosy clouds that overhung the Beautiful Mountains.

King Dolor was never again beheld or heard of in his own country. But