Bruin was with them once more, a constant guest in the little circle.  The fright of that day when the hunters came to the forest had affected all the animals, who clung closely to their two human friends, and did not venture far from the hut.

Although John and the Hermit had never spoken together of the King since that terrible day, the boy thought often about him, and about the young Prince with whom he had wrestled for the life of the bear.  And John was troubled by many things.  He thought how great must be the suffering among the helpless animals when men so cruel were in power.  If animals were treated so, how must the poor and lowly people fare at the hands of their lords and masters?  Were the mighty so cruel to one another,—­to children and women and aged people?  All these were weak and helpless, too.  John remembered the Hermit’s tales of war and the wickedness of cities, and his heart grew sick.  What a terrible world this was to live in, if the great and powerful were so bad!

But when John was most unhappy, longing to change it all, he would look around the little hut where, surrounded by his animal friends, the dear old Hermit sat under the wooden Cross, reading out of the great book.  Then John grew happy once more.  For the Hermit had taught him well from that holy volume.

“It will all come right some time,” he said to himself.  “Some day the Lord will teach men better, and all will be peace and love as it is here.  But oh!  If only I were big and strong and powerful, so that I could help to hasten that happy day!”

One evening, several weeks later, they sat as usual in the midst of their circle of pets.  The Hermit, with the raven on his shoulder and the cat on his knee, was reading from the book.  John, on a bench by the window, was using the last light of an autumn day to make a basket for gathering herbs.  The gaunt wolf lay at his feet.  Beside him rested the bear, snuffling in his sleep; and stretched out between him and the Hermit, Brutus snored peacefully.  On John’s shoulders roosted their carrier pigeon, and several kittens played about his legs.  The deer lay on a pallet in the corner.  It was a very peaceful scene, and every one seemed to have forgotten the fright of a month before.

Suddenly John said:  “Father, tell me about the King.”

The old man started, and placing a finger in the book to mark the place, looked at John with surprise.  “Why should we speak of him?” he asked uneasily.  “This is the hour of peace and meditation on pleasant things.”

“I have thought about him so much,” said John.  “I cannot tell why, but I am unable to forget him.  I want to know more of him and of his son.”

The old man shook his head.  “I am sorry,” he said.  “Did you care so much for his gorgeous clothes and jewels, his horse and band of followers?  Have they turned your head, foolish boy?  Did you find anything to admire in their talk and manner and looks?  I am disappointed, John!”