“Long live the King! The King is dead--down with the King! Hurrah for the Republic! Hurrah for no government at all!”
“Oh, dear godmother,” cried the little Prince. “Let me go back to the tower.” And he suddenly found himself in his own room alone and quiet--for the traveling cloak had taken him there; after which it folded itself into the tiniest bundle, and tied its own knots, and rolled itself into the farthest and darkest corner.
The clock was striking ten, and no nurse was to be seen. The little lame Prince crawled about from room to room on his weak little knees, but all the four chambers were deserted.
“Nurse--dear nurse--please come back!” he cried. “Come back and I will be the best boy in the land!”
In truth the poor woman had not been such a wicked woman after all. As soon as she heard of the death of the King, she determined to go to Nomansland, and set upon the throne its rightful heir. She had persuaded the old black messenger to take her down from the tower, and together they galloped like the wind from city to city spreading the news that the little lame Prince was alive and well, and the noblest young Prince that ever was born.
“Hurrah for the Prince! Let the little Prince be our King,” came from end to end of the Kingdom.
Everybody tried to remember what a dear baby he once was, and nobody at all spoke of his lameness. They went with great rejoicing; lords and gentlemen, and soldiers traveling night and day to fetch the little lame Prince.
They found him sitting on the floor--quite pale, for he expected a far different end from this, although he had decided to die, if die he must, courageously, like a Prince.
“Yes,” he said, “I am only a little boy, but I will try to be your King. I will do my best to make the people happy.”
Then there arose from inside and outside the tower, such a shout as never yet was heard across the lonely plain.
So the little lame Prince came to his own after all, and every one says he was the best King that ever ruled Nomansland. His reign lasted for years and years, and then he went away.
Whither he went, or who went with him, it is impossible to say. But I myself believe that his godmother took him on his traveling cloak to the Beautiful Mountains. What he did there, or where he is now, who can tell? I cannot. But one thing I am quite sure of, that, wherever he is, he is perfectly happy.