The Princess flushed; but the Prince turned pale as he greeted his father respectfully.  John and the Hermit exchanged glances.  They were not afraid for themselves, but they dreaded the King’s wrath for his son and daughter, who had threatened to run away.

The King stood for a moment, looking at the group with a frown.  Then a peculiar smile twisted his lips.

“Ah!” he said, “I have intruded, it seems, upon a council of State.  I fear that I interrupt your plans, my son.  But I trust that you and these noble visitors will pardon my desire to learn the state of your health.  You must not be over-excited.”  He waved his hand toward the Hermit and John, then bowed low to each of the animals in turn, with bitter mockery.

The Princess trembled, for she saw how angry the King was.

“We have no secrets, my friends and I,” said the Prince with dignity.  “We have nothing to conceal of which we are ashamed.”

The King looked at him quickly, as if suspecting that his words meant some reproach.  But he only said, “That is well.”  Then his manner changed.  He tried to appear merry and genial.  “And now, my son,” he said, “since you are so much better, I wish to plan a festival in your honor, to celebrate your cure.”

The little Princess looked at him quickly.  She suspected some treachery.  But the Prince seemed pleased.

“For me?” he said.  “A festival in which these friends may share—­these friends who saved my life?”

“Ay,” answered the King, bowing to the group once more with a peculiar smile.  “Surely, it shall be also in honor of these friends to whom we are so grateful.”  The Hermit and John bowed.  The King went on suavely:  “We will have a pageant, with music and games and singing.  But chiefly the people clamor to see our young friend do the wonderful tricks of which they have heard.  I myself would fain see what you, my son, have found so amusing.  My lad,”—­he turned to John with a strange tone in his voice,—­“you shall dance and tumble and put your animals through their paces, for the applause of my people.  I command you to appear before us this day week and do your sprightliest.  It is not often that we have the honor of entertaining a mountebank at court.”

He spoke the word “mountebank” sneeringly, and John flushed.  But seeing the Hermit sitting with downcast eyes, he merely answered:—­

“I shall obey your Majesty’s commands.”

“Then that is settled,” said the King, with a grunt of satisfaction.  “And you,”—­he turned to the Prince,—­“you will then be strong enough to sit at my side on the throne.  It is well.”

He quite ignored the little daughter who with a pale face shrank in one corner.  With one last glance at the group, the King swept from the balcony.

“A fete!” said the Prince, clapping his hands.  “A grand fete in your honor, my kind friends.  That will be rare sport!  John, you shall make the whole city laugh, even as you have cured me.”