A light leap, and Everychild was in the room, advancing and taking in his surroundings with amazed eyes. But no one paid any attention to him. Hubert de Burgh stood near Prince Arthur, a smoking iron in his hand. The two attendants closed the door behind them with a crash.

Then Arthur spoke again:

"I could not bear to have them looking, Hubert," he said. "It will be easier, just we two alone. I am ready now."

It was then that Hubert gripped Arthur by the shoulder; he brought the hot iron close to his face. And then again his resolution failed him.

His hand trembled; he paused. Presently he was gazing away over the prince's head, almost as if he saw a vision, and his hand on the boy's shoulder slowly relaxed.

"A strange lad!--a strange lad!" he mused. And then looking wonderingly at Arthur he added, "The agony is gone from your eyes when you look at me now. And yet it is I who would destroy you--not those fellows who made you tremble so!"

The prince drew himself up with unconscious pride. "I would rather suffer at the hands of those I love than receive benefits from hirelings," he said.

But Hubert shook his head darkly. "Hirelings?" he repeated. "Ah, who is not a hireling, when a king may have his way? Who can call his honor his own, when a crown is counted a more sacred thing than a man's soul?" He paused in silence again and then added almost banteringly--yet with a note of earnestness, too--"Come, boy, the young have wary eyes and swift feet. Can you not flee and escape from the wrath and fear of your uncle the King?"

But Arthur shook his head. "I think when your work is done, dear Hubert," he said, "the fear of the king and his wrath will trouble me no more."

Hubert frowned darkly. "That is an old man's creed," he cried. "It is monstrous that a child should welcome death!"

He turned away from Arthur and fixed his blank eyes in the direction of Everychild. And presently he lifted his trembling hand to his brow, and there was the light of a terrible vision in his eyes. He began to speak like one in a dreadful dream--

"Methinks I see the face of Everychild!" he mused. "Methinks that always the face of Everychild shall gaze upon me with horror and contempt because I slew this gentle lad. Nay, by my faith, I will not!"

He thrust Arthur from him. "Go your way!" he cried. "Though there were a thousand King Johns, it shall also be said that there was one Hubert de Burgh. If heaven has set no bounds to duty, then I owe a duty to myself as well as to the king. And if a child must needs teach me that there are things more terrible than death, then let me learn a lesson from this child who has the soul of a prince, though he may never wield the scepter of a king. Go free, boy. King John may have a thousand murderers, but it shall also be said of him that he had for chamberlain one who was a man."

With the tread of a soldier, undaunted and unashamed, he left the room.

For a moment Arthur lifted his face with an expression of intense relief; but little by little his eyes darkened again and his head drooped.

"He has spared me--yet to what end?" he mused. "I have escaped for the moment, yet in a few days--on what day none may tell--a new jailor, a poisoned cup, a summons up a broken stairway in the dark, a ride on the river in a mist . . . Ah, woe is me! How shall I really escape?"

He stood disconsolate a moment, and then it seemed he saw Everychild for the first time: Everychild, who came toward him, slowly yet with a.s.surance.

"You shall come with me," said Everychild.

And the prince replied indulgently, "With you, Everychild? But whither are you going?"

"I fare forth to find the truth," said Everychild.

Arthur replied: "It seems you should be a prince if you would find it soon. I shall find the truth before you, Everychild."

"We shall find it together," declared Everychild.

"I was near finding it now," said Arthur; "and even yet I cannot think it is far away."

But Everychild had gone to the window, evidently in the hope of seeing the giant, Will o'Dreams; and while Arthur looked after him hopelessly, Mr. Literal took occasion to say to the Masked Lady--

"He is as beautiful as tradition has pictured him. Small wonder that his foolish mother was moved to speak of him so eloquently. Do you remember?--

"'Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form: Then have I reason to be fond of grief.'"

Then the giant appeared at the window and there was a hurried conference between him and Everychild. Soon the latter turned confidently toward Arthur.

"Come, you shall go with me," said Everychild eagerly.

It seemed for an instant that the prince was really hopeful. Then again his dark mood returned--the mood of one who believes he is lost.

Yet nevertheless he put forth his hand to Everychild and said, "Yes, I will go with you."

He approached the window with slow, majestic tread. Once he shrank back and lifted his hands to his eyes. Then he climbed resolutely to the window sill. He could be seen for an instant, and then he disappeared.

Seeing that he had vanished, Everychild hurried to the window, his face elated. "Splendid!" he cried. "Now he shall be my companion to the end of time!"

Then the giant could be seen at the window. He put forth his hands and lifted Everychild through the window.

A moment, and then Hubert de Burgh re-entered the room. He cast a swift, agitated glance about the room, and soon he noted the open window.

"The window!" he cried in a loud voice. "G.o.d save us all!"

He stood staring at the open window; and as he did so the Masked Lady hid her face in her arms upon the Book of Truth before her. She was softly weeping.

PART IV

ARGUMENT: EVERYCHILD'S FEET ARE DRAWN TO THE SPOT WHERE THE SLEEPING BEAUTY IN THE WOOD LIES. TIME Pa.s.sES.

CHAPTER XX

A SONG IN THE GARDEN

While Everychild and the giant had made their visit to the castle of the cruel king, their companions had remained in the old house at the foot of the hill, and great was their delight when the two who had been absent returned, bringing with them Prince Arthur, toward whom all the children felt immediately drawn.

It was quickly decided that the prince should be allowed to rest before they resumed their journey; and as they were very comfortable where they were, they agreed not to stir until the next day. They still had an abundance to eat; and besides, they had not yet explored the walled garden, very shady and inviting, which they could see from the kitchen windows.

In the afternoon, then, they all invaded the walled garden, where they found much to gladden their hearts. The juniper trees were quite perfect; and the flowers, though they had been so long neglected, seemed really to have been waiting for them. The different kinds of flowers each had a bed of their own; the larkspur and poppies and c.o.xcomb and hollyhocks and columbines, and each seemed to lean forward and say, "Come and see us! Come and see us!" And so the children made the rounds of the garden, visiting each variety of flower.

At last they sat down on the stone benches which surrounded a fine gra.s.s-plot with an ancient sundial in the middle.

Many of the children were content to sit quietly and rest; but Little Bo-Peep and Little Boy Blue, being very young, and naturally rather playful, could not restrain themselves, and they took their places on the gra.s.s and began to play. They looked simply charming: Little Bo-Peep being dressed in a white frock with short sleeves having any number of flounces. She wore a Gainesborough hat of delicate materials, with cherry ribbons ending in ta.s.sels of the same color hanging down behind. She also wore red slippers having buckles set with rubies.

Little Boy Blue was arrayed in blue rompers, cunningly made of one piece, and very ample.

It seemed that they had long resided close to each other, and had often played together; and now, almost without any pre-arrangement at all, they began a game which consisted of singing and dancing.

[Ill.u.s.tration: They began a game which consisted of singing and dancing.]