“I see,” he said, “I see a face...a fair face...”  He faltered and glanced up almost apprehensively at Heiligenstern, whose gaze remained impenetrable.  The boy began to tremble.  “I see nothing,” he said in a whisper.  “There is one here purer than I...the crystal will not speak for me in that other’s presence...”

“Who is that other?” Heiligenstern asked.

The boy fixed his eyes on the little prince.  An excited murmur ran through the company and Heiligenstern again advanced to the Duke.  “Will your Highness,” he asked, “permit the prince to look into the sacred sphere?”

Odo saw the Duchess extend her hand impulsively toward the child; but at a signal from the Duke the little prince’s chair was carried to the table on which the crystal stood.  Instantly the former phenomenon was repeated, the globe clouding and then clearing itself like a pool after rain.

“Speak, my son,” said the Duke.  “Tell us what the heavenly powers reveal to you.”

The little prince continued to pore over the globe without speaking.  Suddenly his thin face reddened and he clung more closely to his companion’s arm.

“I see a beautiful place,” he began, his small fluting voice rising like a bird’s pipe in the stillness, “a place a thousand times more beautiful than this...like a garden...full of golden-haired children...with beautiful strange toys in their hands...they have wings like birds...they are birds...ah! they are flying away from me...I see them no more...they vanish through the trees...”  He broke off sadly.

Heiligenstern smiled.  “That, your Highness, is a vision of the prince’s own future, when, restored to health, he is able to disport himself with his playmates in the gardens of the palace.”

“But they were not the gardens of the palace!” the little boy exclaimed.  “They were much more beautiful than our gardens.”

Heiligenstern bowed.  “They appeared so to your Highness,” he deferentially suggested, “because all the world seems more beautiful to those who have regained their health.”

“Enough, my son!” exclaimed the Duchess with a shaken voice.  “Why will you weary the child?” she continued, turning to the Duke; and the latter, with evident reluctance, signed to Heiligenstern to cover the crystal.  To the general surprise, however, Prince Ferrante pushed back the black velvet covering which the Georgian boy was preparing to throw over it.

“No, no,” he exclaimed, in the high obstinate voice of the spoiled child, “let me look again...let me see some more beautiful things...I have never seen anything so beautiful, even in my sleep!” It was the plaintive cry of the child whose happiest hours are those spent in unconsciousness.

“Look again, then,” said the Duke, “and ask the heavenly powers what more they have to show you.”