That night he slept soundly in the Catskills.




CHAPTER III

MR. BLITHERS GOES VISITING


I repeat: Prince Robin was as handsome a chap as you'll see in a
week's journey. He was just under six feet, slender, erect and strong
in the way that a fine blade is strong. His hair was dark and
straight, his eyes blue-black, his cheek brown and ruddy with the
health of a life well-ordered. Nose, mouth and chin were clean-cut
and indicative of power, while his brow was broad and smooth, with a
surface so serene that it might have belonged to a woman. At first
glance you would have taken him for a healthy, eager American
athlete, just out of college, but that aforementioned seriousness in
his deep-set, thoughtful eyes would have caused you to think twice
before pronouncing him a fledgling. He had enjoyed life, he had made
the most of his play-days, but always there had hung over his young
head the shadow of the cross that would have to be supported to the
end of his reign, through thick and thin, through joy and sorrow,
through peace and strife.

He saw the shadow when he was little more than a baby; it was like a
figure striding beside him always; it never left him. He could not be
like other boys, for he was a prince, and it was a serious business