 Chapter 22 of The Lost Prince This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Susan Umpleby The Lost Prince by Francis Hodgson Burnett Chapter 22 A Night Vigil On a hill in the midst of a great Austrian plain, around which high alps wait watching through the ages, stands a venerable fortress, almost more beautiful than anything one has ever seen. Perhaps if it were not for the great plain flowering broadly about it, with its widespread beauties of meadowland, and wood, and dim-toned buildings gathered about farms, and its dream of a small ancient city at its feet, it might, though it is to be doubted, seem something less a marvel of medieval picturesqueness. But out of the plain rises the low hill, and surrounding it, at a stately distance, stands guard the giant majesty of alps, with shoulders in the clouds and godlike heads above them, looking on, always looking on, sometimes themselves ethereal clouds of snow whiteness, sometimes monster-bear crags, which pierced the blue, and whose unchanging silence seems to know the secret of the everlasting. And on the hill, which this august circle holds in its embrace, as though it enclosed a treasure, stands the old, old, towered fortress, built as a citadel for the Prince Archbishops, who were kings in their domain in the long past centuries, when the splendor and power of ecclesiastical princes was among the greatest upon earth. And as you approach the town, and as you leave it, and as you walk through its streets, the broad, calm, empty-looking ones, or the narrow thoroughfares whose houses seem so near to each other, whether you climb or descend, or cross bridges, or gaze at churches, or step out on your balcony at night to look at the mountains and the moon, always it seems that from some point you can see it gazing down at you. The Citadel of Hoenn Salzburg. It was to Salzburg they went next, because at Salzburg was to be found the man who looked like a hairdresser, and who worked in a barber's shop. Strange as it might seem, to him also must be carried the sign. There may be people who come to him to be shaved, soldiers, or men who know things. The Rat worked it out. And he can speak to them when he is standing close to them. It will be easy to get near him. You can go and have your hair cut. The journey for Munich was not a long one, and during the latter part of it they had the wooden-seated third-class carriage to themselves. Even the drowsy old peasant who nodded and slept in one corner got out with his bundles at last. To Marco the mountains were long-known wonders which could never grow old. They had always and always been so old. Surely they had been the first of the world. Surely they had been standing there waiting when it was said, Let there be light. The light had known it would find them there. They were so silent, and yet it seemed as if they said some amazing thing, something which would take your breath from you if you could hear it, and they never changed. The clouds changed. They read them, and hid them, and trailed down them, and poured out storm torrents on them, and dared against them, and darted forked lightnings round them. But the mountains stood there afterwards as if such things had not been, and were not in the world. Winds roared and tore at them, centuries passed over them, centuries of millions of lives, of changing of kingdoms and empires, of battles and worldwide fame which grew and died and passed away. And temples crumbled, and kings tombs were forgotten, and cities were buried, and others built over them after hundreds of years. And perhaps a few stones fell from a mountainside, or a fissure was worn which the people below could not even see. And that was all. There they stood, and perhaps their secret was that they had been there forever and ever. That was what the mountain said to Marco, which was why he did not want to talk much, but sat and gazed out of the carriage window. The rat had been very silent all the morning. He had been silent when they got up, and he had scarcely spoken when they made their way to the station at Munich and sat waiting for their train. It seemed to Marco that he was thinking so hard that he was like a person who was far away from the place he stood in. His brows were drawn together, and his eyes did not seem to see the people who passed by. Usually he saw everything and made shrewd remarks on almost all he saw. But today he was somehow otherwise absorbed. He sat in the train with his forehead against the window and stared out. He moved and gassed when he found himself staring at the Alps, but afterwards he was even more strangely still. It was not until after the sleepy old peasant had gathered his bundles and got out at a station that he spoke, and he did it without turning his head. You only told me one of the two laws, he said. What was the other one? Marco brought himself back from his dream of reaching the highest mountaintop and seeing clouds float beneath his feet in the sun. He had to come back a long way. Are you thinking of that? I wondered what you had been thinking about all the morning, he said. I couldn't stop thinking of it. What was the second one? said the rat, but he did not turn his head. It was called the law of earthly living. It was for every day, said Marco. It was for the ordering of common things, the small things we think don't matter, as well as the big ones. I always remember that one without any trouble. This was it. Let pass through thy mind, my son, only the image thou wouldst desire to see become a truth. Meditate only upon the wish of thy heart, seeing first that it is such as can wrong no man and is not ennoble. Then will it take earthly form and draw near to thee. This is the law of that which creates. Then the rat turned round. He had a shrewdly reasoning mind. That sounds as if you could get anything you wanted, if you think about it long enough and in the right way, he said. But perhaps it only means that if you do it, you'll be happy after you're dead. My father used to shout with laughing when he was drunk and talked about things like that and looked at his rags. He hugged his knees for a few minutes. He was remembering the rags and the fog darkened room in the slums and the loud hideous laughter. What if you want something that will harm somebody else? He said next. What if you hate someone and wish you could kill him? That was one of the questions my father asked that night on the ledge. The holy man said people always asked it. Marco answered. This was the answer. Let him who stretcheth forth his hand to draw the lightning to his brother. Recall that through his own soul and body will pass the bolt. Wonder if there's anything in it? The rat pondered. It'd make a chap careful if he believed it. Revenging yourself on a man would be like holding him against a live wire to kill him and getting all the bolts through yourself. A sudden anxiety revealed itself in his face. Does your father believe it? He asked. Does he? He knows it is true. Marco said. I'll own up. The rat decided after further reflection. I'll own up. I'm glad that there isn't anyone left that I have a grudge against. There isn't anyone now. Then he fell again into silence and did not speak until their journey was at an end. As they arrived early in the day, they had plenty of time to wonder about the marvelous little old city. But through the wide streets and through the narrow ones, under the archways into the market gardens, across the bridge and into the square where the Glockenspiel played its old tinkling tune, everywhere the citadel looked down and always the rat walked on in his dream. They found the hairdresser's shop in one of the narrow streets. There were no grand shops there, and this particular shop was a modest one. They walked past it once and then went back. It was a shop so humble that there was nothing remarkable in two common boys going into it to have their hair cut. An old man came forward to receive them. He was evidently glad of their modest patronage. He undertook to attend to the rat himself. But having arranged him in a chair, he turned about and called to someone in the back room. Heingrich, he said. In the slit in Marco's sleeve was the sketch of the man with smooth curled hair, who looked like a hairdresser. He had found a corner in which to take their final look at it before they turned back to come in. Heingrich, who came forth from the small back room, had smooth curled hair. He looked extremely like a hairdresser. He had features like those in the sketch. His nose and mouth and chin and figure were like what Marco had drawn and committed to memory. But he gave Marco a chair and tied the professional white covering around his neck. Marco leaned back and closed his eyes a moment. This is not the man he was saying to himself. He is not the man. How he knew he was not, he could not have explained. But he felt sure. It was a strong conviction. But for the sudden feeling, nothing would have been easier than to give the sign. And if he could not give it now, where was the one to whom it must be spoken? And what would be the result if that one could not be found? And if there were two who were so much alike, how could he be sure? Each owner of each of the pictured faces was a link in a powerful secret chain. And if a link were missed, the chain would be broken. Each time Heingrich came within the line of his vision, he recorded every feature afresh and compared it with the remembered sketch. Each time the resemblance became more close. But each time some persistent inner conviction repeated, no. The sign is not for him. It was disturbing also to find that the rat was all at once as restless as he had previously been silent and preoccupied. He moved in his chair to the great discomfort of the old hairdresser. He kept turning his head to talk. He asked Marco to translate diverse questions he wished him to ask the two men. They were questions about the citadel, about the Monksburg, the residents, the Glockenspiel, the mountains. He added one query to another and could not sit still. The young gentleman will get an ear snipped, said the old man to Marco, and it will not be my fault. What shall I do? Marco was thinking. He is not the man. He did not give the sign. He must go away and think it out, though where his thoughts would lead him he did not know. This was a more difficult problem than he had ever dreamed of facing. There was no one to ask advice of, only himself and the rat, who was nervously wriggling and twisting in his chair. You must sit still, he said to him. The hairdresser is afraid you will make him cut you by accident. But I want to know who lives at the residence, said the rat. These men can tell us things if you ask them. It is done now, said the old hairdresser with a relieved air. Perhaps the cutting of his hair makes the young gentleman nervous. It is sometimes so. The rat stood close to Marco's chair and asked questions until Heinrich had also done his work. Marco could not understand his companion's change of mood. He realized that if he had wished to give the sign he had been allowed no opportunity. He could not have given it. The restless questioning had so directed the older man's attention to his son and Marco that nothing could have been said to Heinrich without his observing it. I could not have spoken if he had been the man, Marco said to himself. Their very exit from the shop seemed a little hurried. When they were fairly in the street, the rat made a clutch at Marco's arm. You didn't give it, he whispered breathlessly. I kept talking and talking to prevent you. Marco tried not to feel breathless and he tried to speak in a low and level voice with no hint of exclamation in it. Why did you say that? he asked. The rat drew closer to him. That was not the man, he whispered. It doesn't matter how much he looks like him, he isn't the right one. He was pale and swinging along swiftly as if he were in a hurry. Let's get into a quiet place, he said. Those queer things you've been telling me have got hold of me. How did I know? How could I know? Unless it's because I've been trying to work that second law. I've been saying to myself that we should be told the right things to do for the game and your father and so that I could be the right sort of aide to camp. I've been working at it and when he came out I knew he was not the man in spite of his looks and I couldn't be sure you knew and I thought if I kept on talking and interrupting you with silly questions you could be prevented from speaking. There's a place not far away where we can get a look at the mountains. Let's go there and sit down said Marco. I knew it was not the right one too. It's the help over again. Yes, it's the help. It's the help. It must be, muttered the rat, walking fast and with a pale set face. It could not be anything else. They got away from the streets and the people and reached the quiet place where they could see the mountains. There they sat down by the wayside. The rat took off his cap and wiped his forehead but it was not only the quick walking which had made it damp. The queerness of it gave me a kind of fright, he said. When he came out and he was near enough for me to see him a sudden strong feeling came over me. It seemed as if I knew he wasn't the man. Then I said to myself, but he looks like him and I began to get nervous and then I was sure again and then I wanted to try to stop you from giving him the sign and then it all seemed foolishness and the next second all the things you had told me rushed back to me at once and I remembered what I had been thinking ever since and I said, perhaps it's the law beginning to work and the palms of my hands got moist. Marco was very quiet. He was looking at the farthest and highest peaks and wondering about many things. It was the expression of his face that was different, he said, and his eyes. They were rather smaller than the right man's are. The light in the shop was poor and it was not until the last time he bent over me that I found out what I had not seen before. His eyes are gray. The other ones are brown. Did you see that? The rat exclaimed, then we're sure we're safe. We're not safe till we found the right man, Marco said. Where is he? Where is he? Where is he? He said the words dreamily and quietly as if he were lost in thought rather as if he expected an answer and he still looked at the far off peaks. The rat, after watching him a moment or so, began to look at them also. They were like a lodestone to him too. There was something stilling about them and when your eyes had rested upon them a few moments they did not want to move away. There must be a ledge up there somewhere, he said at last. Let's go up and look for it and sit there and think and think about finding the right man. There seemed nothing fantastic in this to Marco. To go into some quiet place and sit and think about the thing he wanted to remember or to find out was an old way of his. To be quiet was always the best thing his father had taught him. It was like listening to something which could speak without words. There is a little train which goes up the Geisberg, he said. When you are at the top a world of mountains spreads around you. Lazarus went once and he told me and we can lie out on the grass all night. Let us go, aid de camp. So they went, each one thinking the same thought and each boy mind holding its own vision. Marco was the calmer of the two because his belief that there was always help to be found was an accustomed one and had ceased to seem to partake of the supernatural. He believed quite simply that it was the working of a law not the breaking of one which gave answer and led him in his quests. The rat who had known nothing of laws other than those administered by police courts was at once odd and fascinated by the suggestion of crossing some borderland of the unknown. The law of the one had baffled and overthrown him with it sweeping away of the enmities of passions which created wars and called for armies. But the law of earthly living seemed to offer practical benefits if you could hold on to yourself enough to work it. You wouldn't get everything for nothing as far as I can make out, he had said to Marco. You'd have to sweep all the rubbish out of your mind. Sweep it as if you did it with a broom. And then keep on thinking straight and believing you were going to get things and working for them and they'd come. Then he had laughed a short ugly laugh because he recalled something. There was something in the Bible that my father used to jeer about. Something about a man getting what he prayed for if he believed it, he said. Oh yes, it's there, said Marco that if a man pray believing he shall receive what he asks it shall be given him. All the books say something like it. It has been said so often it makes you believe it. He didn't believe it and I didn't, said the rat. Nobody does, really, answered Marco as he had done once before. It's because we don't know. They went up the Geisberg in the little train which pushed and dragged and panted slowly upward with them. It took them with it stubbornly and gradually higher and higher until it had left Salzburg in the citadel below. It had reached the world of mountains which rose and spread and lifted great heads behind each other and beside each other and beyond each other until there seemed no other land on earth but that on mountain sides and backs and shoulders and crowns. And also one felt the absurdity of living upon flat ground where life must be an insignificant thing. There were only a few sightseers in the small carriages and they were going to look at the view from the summit. They were not in search of a ledge. The rat and Marco were. When the little train stopped at the top they got out with the rest. They wandered about with them over the short grass on the treeless summit and looked out from this viewpoint The rat grew more and more silent and his silence was not merely a matter of speechlessness but of expression. He looked silent and as if he were no longer aware of the earth they left the sightseers at last and wandered away by themselves. They found a ledge where they could sit or lie and where even the world of mountains seemed to below them. They had brought some simple food with them and they laid it behind a jutting bit of rock. When the sightseers boarded the laboring little train again and were dragged back down the mountain their night of vigil would begin. That was what it was to be a night of stillness on the heights where they could wait and watch and hold themselves ready to hear any thought which spoke to them. The rat was so thrilled that he would not have been surprised from the place of the stars. But Marco only believed that in this great stillness and beauty if he held his voice all quiet enough he should find himself at last thinking of something that would lead him to the place which held what it was best that he should find. The people returned to the train and it set out upon its way down the steepness. They heard it laboring on its way as though it was forced to make and hold itself back as it had made to drag itself upward. Then they were alone and it was aloneness such as an eagle might feel when it held itself poised high in the curve of blue and they sat and watched. They saw the sun go down and shade by shade deepen and make radiant and then draw away with it the last touches of color. Rose gold rose purple and rose gray One mountaintop after another held its blush a few moments and lost it. It took long to gather them all but at length they were gone and the marvel of night fell. The breath of the forests below was sweet about them and soundlessness enclosed them which was of unearthly peace. The stars began to show themselves and instantly the two who waited found their faces turned upward to the sky and they both were speaking and whispers. The stars look large here the rat said. Yes, answered Marco. We are not as high as the Buddhist was but it seems like the top of the world. There is a light on the side of the mountain yonder which is not a star It is a light in a hut where the guides take the climbers to rest and to spend the night. Answered Marco. It is so still the rat whispered again after a silence and Marco whispered back. It is so still They had eaten their meal of black bread and cheese after the setting of the sun and now they lay down on their backs and looked up until the first few stars and saw themselves into myriads. They began a little low talk but the soundlessness was stronger than themselves. How am I going to hold on to that second law? The rat said restlessly. Let pass through thy mind only the image thou would see become a truth. The things that are passing through my mind are not the things I want to come true. What if we don't find him? Don't find the right one, I mean. Lie still still and look up at the stars whispered Marco. They give you a sure feeling. There was something in the curious serenity of him which calmed even his aid to camp. The rat lay still and looked and thought and what he thought of was the desire of his heart. The soundlessness unwrapped him and there was no world left. That there was a spark of light in the mountain climber's rest hut was a thing forgotten. They were only two boys and they had begun their journey on the earliest train and had been walking about all day and thinking of great and anxious things. It is so still the rat whispered again at last. It is so still whispered Marco. And the mountains rising behind each other and beside each other and beyond each other in the night and also the myriads of stars which had so multiplied themselves looking down knew that they were asleep. As sleep the human beings which do not watch forever. Someone is smoking Marco found himself saying in a dream after which he awakened and found that the smoke was not part of a dream at all. He looked from the pipe of a young man who had an alpinestock and who looked as if he had climbed to see the sunrise. He wore the clothes of a climber and a green hat with a tuft at the back. He looked down at the two boys surprised. Good day, he said. Did you sleep here so that you could see the sun get up? Yes, answered Marco. Were you cold? We slept too soundly to know I slept half way down the mountains, said the smoker. I am a guide these days but I have not been one long enough to miss a sunrise it is no work to reach. My father and brother think I am mad about such things. They would rather stay in their beds. Oh, he is awake, is he? Turning toward the rat who had risen on one elbow and was staring at him. What is the matter? He was afraid of me. Marco did not wait for the rat to recover his breath and speak. I know why he looks at you so, he answered for him. He is startled. Yesterday we went to a hairdresser's shop down below there and we saw a man who was almost exactly like you only he added looking up. His eyes were grey and yours are brown. He was my twin brother, said the guide, and had his pipe cheerfully. My father thought he could make hairdressers of his both and I tried it for four years but I always wanted to be climbing the mountains and there were not holidays enough. So I cut my hair and washed the pomade out of it and broke away. I don't look like a hairdresser now, do I? He did not. Not at all. But Marco knew him. He was the man. He was on the mountaintop but themselves and the son was just showing a rim of gold above the farthest and highest giant shoulders. One need not be afraid to do anything since there was no one to see or hear. Marco slipped the sketch out of the slit in his sleeve. He looked at it and he looked at the guide and then he showed it to him. That is not your brother. It is you, he said. He changed a little. More than any other face had changed when its owner had been spoken to. On a mountaintop as the sun rises one is not afraid. The lamp is lighted, said Marco. The lamp is lighted. God be thanked burst forth the man and he took off his hat and buried his head. Then the rim behind the mountain's shoulder leaped forth into a golden tour to Splendor and the rat stood up resting his weight on his crutches in utter silence and stared and stared. That is three, said Marco. End of Chapter 22 Chapter 23 of The Lost Prince This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Susan Umpleby The Lost Prince by Francis Hodgson Burnett Chapter 23 The Silver Horn During the next week which they spent in journeying towards Vienna they gave the sign to three different persons at places which were on the way. In a village across the frontier in Bavaria they found a giant of an old man sitting on a bench under a tree before his mountain gasthouse or inn. And when the four words were uttered he stood up and bared his head as the guide had done. When Marco gave the sign in some quiet place to a man who was alone he noticed that they all did this and said their God be thanked devoutly as if it were part of some religious ceremony. In a small town a few miles away he had to search some hours on a stalwart young shoemaker with bright red hair and a horseshoe shaped scar on his forehead. He was not in his workshop when the boys first passed it because as they found out later he had been climbing a mountain the day before and had been detained in the descent because his companion had heard himself. When Marco went in and asked him to measure him for a pair of shoes he was quite friendly and told them all about it. There are some good fellows who should not climb he said. When they find themselves standing on a bit of rock jutting out over emptiness their heads begin to whirl around and then if they don't turn head over heels a few thousand feet it is because some comrade is near enough to drag them back. There can be no ceremony then and they sometimes get hurt as my friend did yesterday. Did you never get hurt yourself? the rat asked. When I was eight years old I did that said the young shoemaker touching the scar on his forehead but it was not much my father was a guide and took me with him he wanted me to begin early there is nothing like it climbing. I shall be at it again this won't do for me I tried shoemaking because I was in love with a girl who wanted me to stay at home she married another man but once a guide always a guide he knelt down to measure Marco's foot and Marco bent a little forward the lamp is lighted he said there was no one in the shop but the door was open and people were passing in the narrow street so the shoemaker did not lift his red head he went on measuring God be thanked he said in a low voice do you want these shoes really or did you only want me to take your measure I cannot wait until they are made Marco answered I must go on yes you must go on answered the shoemaker but I'll tell you what I'll do I'll make them and keep them some great day might come when I shall show them to people and swagger about them he glanced around cautiously and then ended still bending over his measuring they will be called the shoes of the bearer of the sign and I shall say he was only a lad this was the size of his foot then he stood up with a great smile they'll be climbing enough to be done now he said and I look to see you again somewhere when the boys went away they talked it over the hairdresser didn't want to be a hairdresser and the shoemaker didn't want to make shoes said the rat they both wanted to be mountain climbers there are mountains in Somavia and mountains on the way to it you showed them to me on the map yes and secret messengers who can climb anywhere and cross dangerous places and reconnoiter from points no one else can reach can find out things and give signals other men cannot said Marco that's what I thought out the rat answered that was what he meant when he said there will be climbing enough to be done now strange were the places they went to and curiously unlike each other were the people to whom they carried their message the most singular of all was an old woman who lived in so remote a place that the road which wound round and round the mountain wound round it for miles and miles it was not a bad road and it was an amazing one to travel dragged in a small cart by a mule when one could be dragged and clambering slowly with rests between when one could not the tree covered precipices one looked down the tossing whiteness of waterfalls or the green foaming of rushing streams and the immensity of farm and village scattered plains spreading themselves to the feet of other mountains shutting them in were breathtaking beauties to look down on as the road mounted and wound round and round higher and higher how can anyone live higher than this said the rat as they sat on the thick moss by the wayside after the mule and cart had left them look at the bear crags looming up above there let us look at her again her picture looked as if she were a hundred years old Marco took out his hidden sketch it seems surely one of the strangest things in the world that a creature as old as this one seemed could reach such a place or having reached it could ever descend to the world again to give aid to any person or thing her old face was crossed and recrossed with a thousand wrinkles her profile was splendid yet and she had been a beauty in her day her eyes were like an eagle's and not an old eagle's and she had a long neck which held her old head high how could she get here exclaimed the rat those who sent us know though we don't said Marco will you sit here and rest while I go on further no the rat answered stubbornly I didn't train myself to stay behind but we shall come to bear rock climbing soon and then I shall be obliged to stop and he said the last bitterly he knew that if Marco had come alone he would have ridden in no cart but would have trudged upward and onward sturdily to the end of his journey but they did not reach the crags as they had thought must be inevitable suddenly halfway to the sky as it seemed they came to a bend in the road and found themselves mounting into a new green world an astonishing marvel of a world with green velvet slopes and soft meadows and thick woodland and cows feeding in velvet pastures and as if it had been snowed down from the huge bear mountain crags which still soared above into heaven a mysterious ancient huddled village which being thus snowed down might have caught among the rocks and rested there through all time there it stood there it huddled itself and the monsters in the blue above it themselves looked down upon it as if it were an incredible thing this ancient steep roofed hanging balcony crumbling cluster of human nests which seemed a thousand miles from the world Marco and the rat stood and stared at it then they sat down and stared at it how did it get here the rat cried Marco shook his head he certainly could see no explanation of its being there perhaps some of the oldest villagers could tell stories of how its first chalets had gathered themselves together an old peasant driving a cow came down a steep path he looked with a dull curiosity at the rat and his crutches but when Marco advanced and spoke to him in German he did not seem to understand but shook his head saying something in a sort of dialect Marco did not know if they all speak like that we shall have to make signs when we want to ask anything the rat said what will she speak she will know the German for the sign or we should not have been sent here answered Marco they made their way to the village which huddled itself together evidently with the object of keeping itself warm when through the winter months the snows strove to bury it and the winds roared down from the huge rags and tried to tear it from among its rocks the doors and windows were few and small and glimpses of the inside of the houses showed earthen floors and dark rooms it was plain that it was counted a more comfortable thing to live without light than to let in the cold it was easy enough to reconnoitre the few people they saw were evidently not surprised that strangers who discovered their unexpected existence should be curious to look at them in their houses the boys wondered about as if they were casual explorers who having reached the place by chance were interested in all they saw they went into the little gasthouse and got some black bread and sausage and some milk the mountaineer owner was a brawny fella who understood some German he told them that few strangers knew of the village but that bold hunters and climbers came for sport in the forests on the mountain sides were bears and in the high places chamois now and again some great gentleman came with parties of the daring kind very great gentleman indeed he said, shaking his head with pride there was one who had castles in other mountains but he liked best to come here Marco began to wonder if several strange things might not be true if great gentlemen sometimes climbed his place but he had not been sent to give the sign to a great gentleman he had been sent to give it to an old woman with eyes like an eagle which was young he had a sketch in his sleeve with that of her face and of her steep roofed black beamed balcony house if they walked about a little they would be sure to come upon it in this tiny place then he could go in and ask her for a drink of water they had come about for an hour after they left the gasthouse they went into the little church and looked at the graveyard and wondered if it was not buried out of all sight in the winter after they had done this they sauntered out and walked through the huddled clusters of houses examining each one as they drew near it and passed I see it the rat exclaimed at last it is that very old looking one they stumbled down as most of them and there are some red flowers on the balcony yes that's it said Marco they walked up to the low black door and as he stopped on the threshold Marco took off his cap he did this because sitting in the doorway on a low wooden chair the old old woman with the eagle eyes was sitting knitting there was no one else in the room and no one anywhere within sight when the old old woman looked up at him with her young eagle's eyes holding her head high on her long neck Marco knew he need not ask for water or for anything else the lamp is lighted he said in his low but strong and clear young voice she dropped her knitting upon her knees and gazed at him a moment in silence she knew German it was clear for it was in German she answered him God be thanked she said come in young bearer of the sign and bring your friend in with you I live alone and not a soul is within hearing she was a wonderful old woman neither Marco nor the rat would live long enough to forget the hours they spent in her strange dark house she kept them and made them spend the night with her it is quite safe she said since my man fell into the crevasse and was killed because his rope broke when he was trying to save his comrade so I have two rooms to spare and sometimes climbers are glad to sleep in them mine is a good warm house and I am well known in the village you are very young she added shaking her head you are very young you must have good blood in your veins to be trusted with this I have my father's I have my father's blood answered Marco you are like someone I once saw the old woman said and her eagle eyes set themselves hard upon him tell me your name there was no reason why he should not tell it to her it is Marco Laura Stan he said what? it is that she cried out not loud but low in his amazement she got up from her chair and stood before him showing what a tall old woman she really was there was a startled even an agitated look in her face and suddenly she actually made a sort of curtsy to him bending her knee as peasants do when they pass a shrine it is that she said again and yet they dare let you go on a journey like this that speaks for your courage and for theirs but Marco did not know what she meant her strange obeisance made him feel awkward he stood up because his training had told him that when a woman stands a man also rises the name speaks for the courage he said because it is my father's she watched him almost anxiously you do not even know she breathed and it was an exclamation and not a question I know what I have been told to do he answered and I do not ask anything else who is that she asked pointing to the rat he is the friend my father sent with me said Marco smiling he called him my aide to camp it was a sort of joke because we had played soldiers together it seemed as if she were obliged to collect her thoughts she stood with her hand at her mouth looking down at the earth floor God guard you she said at last you are very very young but all his years the rat broke in he has been in training for just this thing he did not know it was training but it was a soldier who had been trained for 13 years would know his work he was so eager that he forgot she could not understand English Marco translated what he said into German and added what he says is true she nodded her head still with questioning in anxious eyes yes yes she muttered but you are very young then she asked in a hesitating way will you not sit down until I do no answered Marco I would not sit while my mother or grandmother stood then I must sit and forget she said she passed her hand over her face as though she were sweeping away the sudden puzzled trouble in her expression then she sat down as if she had obliged herself to become again the old peasant she had been when they entered all the way up the mountain you wondered why an old woman should be given the sign she said you asked each other how she could be of use neither Marco nor the rat said anything when I was young and fresh she went on I went to a castle over the frontier to be foster mother to a child who was born a great noble one who was near the throne he loved me and I loved him he was a strong child and he grew up a great hunter and climber when he was not ten years old my man taught him to climb he always loved these mountains better than his own he comes to see me as if he were only a young mountaineer he sleeps in the room there with a gesture over her shoulder into the darkness he has great power and if he chooses to do a thing he will do it just as he will attack the biggest bear and climb the most dangerous peak he is one who can bring things about it is very safe to talk in this room then all was quite clear Marco and the rat understood no more was said about the sign it had been given and that was enough the old woman told them that they must sleep in one of her bedrooms the next morning one of her neighbors was going down to the valley with a cart and he would help them on their way the rat knew that she was thinking of his crutches and he became restless tell her he said to Marco how I have trained myself until I can do what anyone else can and tell her I am growing stronger every day tell her I'll show her what I can do your father wouldn't have let me come as your aide if I hadn't proved to him triple, tell her she thinks I'm no use Marco explained and the old woman listened attentively when the rat got up and swung himself about up and down the steep path near her house she seemed relieved his extraordinary dexterity and firm swiftness evidently amazed her and gave her a confidence she had not felt at first if he has taught himself to be like that just for love of your father he will go to the end she said it is more than one could believe that a pair of crutches could do such things the rat was pacified and could afterwards give himself up to watching her as closely as he wished to he was soon working out certain things in his mind what he watched was her way of watching Marco it was as if she were fascinated and could not keep her eyes from him she told them stories about the mountains and the strangers who came to climb with guides or to hunt she told them about the storms which sometimes seemed about to put an end to the little world among the crags she described the winter when the snow buried them and the strong ones were forced to dig out the weak and some lived for days under the masses of soft whiteness glad to keep their cows or goats in their rooms that they might share the warmth of their bodies the villagers were forced to be good neighbors to each other for the man who was not ready to dig out a hidden chimney or buried door today might be left to freeze and starve in his snow tomb the next week through the worst part of the winter no creature from the world below could make way to them to find out whether they were all dead or alive while she talked she watched Marco as if she were always asking herself some question about him the rat was sure that she liked him and greatly admired his strong body and good looks it was not necessary for him to carry himself slouchingly in her presence and he looked glowing and noble there was a sort of reverence in her manner when she spoke to him she reminded him of Lazarus more than once when she gave them their evening meal she insisted on waiting on him with a certain respectful ceremony she would not sit at table with him and the rat began to realize that she felt that he himself should be standing to serve him she thinks I ought to stand behind your chair as Lazarus stands behind your father's he said to Marco perhaps an aide ought to do it shall I I believe it would please her a bearer of the sign is not a royal person answered Marco I like it and I should not we are only two boys it was very wonderful when after their supper was over they all three sat together before the fire the red glow of the bed of wood coal and the orange yellow of the flame from the big logs filled the room with warm light which made a mellow background for the figure of the old woman as she sat in her low chair and told them more and more enthralling stories her eagle eyes glowed and her long neck held her head splendidly high as she described great feats of courage and endurance or almost super human daring in aiding those in awesome peril and when she glowed most in the telling they always knew that the hero of the adventure had been her foster child who was the baby born a great noble and near the throne to her he was the most splendid and adorable of human beings almost an emperor but so warm and tender of heart that he never forgot the long past days when she had held him on her knee and told him tales of shammy and bear hunting and of the mountaintops in midwinter he was her sun god yes yes she said good mother he calls me and I bake him a cake on the hearth as I did when he was ten years old teaching him to climb and when he chooses that a thing shall be done done it is he is a great lord the flames had died down and only the big bed of red coal made the room glow and they were thinking of going to bed when the old woman started very suddenly turning her head as if to listen Marco and the rat heard nothing but they saw that she did and they said so still that each held his breath so there was utter stillness for a few moments utter stillness then they did hear something a clear silver sound piercing the pure mountain air the old woman spring upright with the fire of delight in her eyes it is his silver horn she cried out striking her hands together it is his own call to me when he is coming he has been hunting somewhere and wants to sleep in his good bed here help me to put on more faggots to the rat so that he will see the flame of them through the open door as he comes shall we be in the way said Marco we can go at once she was going towards the door to open it and she stopped a moment and turned no no she said he must see your face I want him to see how young you are she threw the door wide open and they heard the silver horn send out its gay call again the brushwood and faggots the rat had thrown on the coals crackled and sparkled and roared into fine flames which cast their light into the road and threw out in fine relief the old figure which stood on the threshold and looked so tall and in but a few minutes her great lord came to her and in his green hunting suit with its green hat and eagles feather he was as splendid as she had said he was he was big and royal looking and laughing and he bent and kissed her as if he had been her own son yes good mother they heard him say I want my warm bed and one of your good suppers I sent the others to the gasthouse he came into the redly glowing room and his head almost touched the blacked rafters then he saw the two boys who are these good mother he asked she lifted his hand and kissed it they are the bearers of the sign she said rather softly the lamp is lighted then his whole look changed his laughing face became quite grave and for a moment looked even anxious Marco knew it was because he was startled to find them only boys he made a step forward to look at them more closely the lamp is lighted and you two bear the sign he exclaimed Marco stood out in the fire glow that he might see him well he saluted with respect my name is Marco Laura Stan heinous he said and my father sent me the change which came upon his face then was even greater than at first for a second Marco even felt that there was a flash of alarm in it but almost at once that passed Laura Stan is a great man and a great patriot he said if he sent you it is because he knows you are the one safe messenger he has worked too long for Samavia not to know what he does Marco saluted again he knew what it was right to say next if we have your heinous's permission to retire he said we will leave you and go to bed we go down the mountain at sunrise where next asked the hunter looking at him with curious intentness to Vienna heinous Marco answered his questioner held out his hand still with the intent interest in his eyes good night fine lad he said as need to vaunt itself on its sign bearer god go with you he stood and watched him as he went toward the room in which he and his aide to camp were to sleep the rat followed him closely at the little back door the old old woman stood having opened it for them as Marco passed and bade her good night he saw that she again made the strange obeisance bending the knee as he went by chapter 23 chapter 24 of The Lost Prince this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Susan Umpleby The Lost Prince by Francis Hodgson Burnett chapter 24 how shall we find him in Vienna they came upon a pageant in celebration of a century past victory the emperor drove in state and ceremony to attend at the great cathedral and to do honor to the ancient banners and laurel wreath statue of a long dead soldier prince the broad pavements of the huge chief thoroughfare were crowded with a cheering populace watching the marshal pomp and splendor as it passed by with marching feet prancing horses and glitter of scabbard and chain which all seemed somehow part of music in triumphant bursts the rat was enormously thrilled by the magnificence of the imperial place its immense spaces the squares and gardens reigned over by statues of emperors and warriors and queens made him feel that all things on earth were possible the palaces and stately piles of architecture whose surmounting equestrian bronzes ramped high in the air clear cut and beautiful against the sky seemed to sweep out of his world all atmosphere but that of splendid cities down whose broad avenues emperors rode with waving banners tramping jangling soldiery before and behind and golden trumpets blaring forth it seemed as if it must always be like this that lances and cavalry and emperors would never cease to ride by I should like to stay here a long time he said almost as if he were in a dream I should like to see it all he leaned on his crutches in the crowd and watched the glitter of the passing pageant now and then he glanced at Marco who watched also with a steady eye which the rat saw nothing would escape how absorbed he always was in the game how impossible it was for him to forget it or to remember it only as a boy would often it seemed that he was not a boy at all and the game the rat knew in these days was a game no more but a thing of deep and deadly earnest a thing which touched kings and thrones and concerned the ruling and swaying of great countries and they two lads pushed about by the crowd as they stood and stared at the soldiers carried with them that which was even now lighting the lamp the blood in the rat's veins ran quickly and made him feel hot as he remembered certain thoughts which had forced themselves into his mind during the past weeks as his brain had the trick of working things out it had during the last fortnight at least been following a wonderful even if rather fantastic and feverish fancy a mere trifle had said it at work but its labor once begun things which might once have seemed to be trifles appeared so no longer when marco was asleep the rat lay awake through thrilled and sometimes almost breathless midnight hours looking backward and recalling every detail of their lives since they had known each other sometimes it seemed to him that almost everything he remembered the game from first to last above all had pointed to but one thing and then again he would all at once feel that he was a fool and had better keep his head steady marco he knew had no wild fancies he had learned too much and his mind was too well balanced he did not try to work out things he only thought of what he was under orders to do but said the rat more than once in these midnight hours if it ever comes to a draw whether he is to be saved or I am he is the one that must come to no harm killing can't take long and his father sent me with him this thought passed through his mind as the tramping feet went by as a sudden splendid burst of approaching music broke upon his ear a queer look twisted his face he realized the contrast between this day and that first morning behind the churchyard when he had sat on his platform among the squad and looked up and saw marco in the arch at the end of the passage and because he had been good looking and had held himself so well he had thrown a stone at him yes blind gutter bread fool that he'd been his first greeting to marco had been a stone just because he was what he was as they stood here in the crowd in this far off foreign city it did not seem as if it could be true that it was he who had done it he managed to work himself closer to marco's side isn't it splendid he said I wish I was an emperor myself I'd have these fellows out like this every day he said it only because he wanted to say something to speak as a reason for getting closer to him he wanted to be near enough to touch him and feel that they were really together and that the whole thing was not a sort of magnificent dream from which he might awaken to find himself lying on his heap of rags in his corner of the room in bone court the crowd swayed forward in its eagerness to see the principal feature of the pageant the emperor in his carriage the rats swayed forward with the rest to look as it passed a handsome white-haired and mustached personage in splendid uniform decorated with jeweled orders and with a cascade of emerald green plumes knotting in his military hat gravely saluted the shouting people on either side by him sat a man uniformed decorated in emerald plume also but many years younger marco's arm touched the rats almost at the same moment that marco under the knotting plumes each saw the rather tired and cynical pale face a sketch of which was hidden in the slit in marco's sleeve is the one who sits with the emperor an archduke marco asked the man nearest to him in the crowd the man answered amiably enough no he was not but he was a certain prince a descendant of the one who was the hero of the day he was a great favorite of the emperors and was also a great personage whose palace contained pictures celebrated throughout europe he pretends it is only pictures he cares for he went on shrugging his shoulders and speaking to his wife who had begun to listen but he is a clever one who amuses himself with things he professes not to concern himself about big things it's his way to look bored to nothing but it's said he is a wizard for knowing dangerous secrets does he live at the hofburg with the emperor? asked the woman craning her neck to look after the imperial carriage no but he is often there the emperor is lonely and bored too no doubt and this one has ways of making him forget his troubles it's been told me that now and then the two dress themselves roughly and go out into the city to see what it's like to rub shoulders with the rest of the world I dare say it's true I should like to try it myself once in a while if I had to sit on a throne and wear a crown the two boys followed the celebration to its end they managed to get near enough to see the entrance to the church where the service was held and to get a view of the ceremonies at the banner draped and laurel wreath statue they saw the man with the pale face several times but he was always so enclosed that it was not possible to get within yards of him it happened once however that he looked through a temporary break in the crowding people and saw a dark, strong featured and remarkably intent boys face whose vivid scrutiny of him caught his eye there was something in the fixedness of its attention which caused him to look at it curiously for a few seconds his gaze squarely look at me look at me the boy was saying to him mentally I have a message for you a message the tired eyes and the pale face rested on him with a certain growing light of interest and curiosity but the crowding people moved and the temporary break closed up so that the two could see each other no more Marco and the rat were pushed backward by those taller and stronger than themselves until they were on the outskirts of the crowd let us go to the Hofburg said Marco they will come back there and we shall see him again even if we can't get near to the Hofburg they made their way through the less crowded streets and there they waited as near to the great palace as they could get they were there when the ceremonies at an end the royal carriages returned but though they saw their man again they were at some distance from him and he did not see them then followed four singular days they were singular days because they were full of tantalizing incidents nothing seemed easier than to hear talk of and see the emperor's favorite but nothing was more impossible than to get near to him he seemed rather a favorite with the populace and the common people of the shopkeeping or laboring classes were given to talking freely of him of where he was going and what he was doing tonight he would be sure to be at this great house or that at this ball or that banquet there was no difficulty in discovering that he would be sure to go to the opera or the theater or to drive to the Schoenbrunn with his imperial master Marco and the rat heard casual speech with him again and again and from one part of the city to the other they followed and waited for him but it was like chasing a will of the wisp he was evidently too brilliant and important a person to be allowed to move about alone there were always people with him that seemed absorbed in his language cynical talk Marco thought that he never seemed to care much for his companions though they on their part always seemed highly entertained by what he was saying it was noticeable that they left a great deal though he himself scarcely even smiled he's one of those chaps with the trick of saying witty things as if he didn't see the fun in them himself the rat summed him up chaps like that are always cleverer than the other kind he's too high in favor and too rich not to be followed about they heard a man in a shop say one day but he gets tired of it sometimes when he's too bored to stand it any longer he gives it out that he's gone into the mountains somewhere and all the time he shut up alone with his pictures in his own palace that very night the rat came into their attic looking pale and disappointed he had been out to buy some food after a long and arduous day in which they had covered much ground had seen their man three times and each time under circumstances made him more inaccessible than ever they had come back to their poor quarters both tired and ravenously hungry the rat threw his purchase onto the table and himself into a chair he's gone to Budapest he said now how shall we find him Marco was rather pale also and for a moment he looked paler the day had been a hard one and in their haste to reach places at a long distance from each other they had forgotten their need of food they sat silent for a few moments because there seemed to be nothing to say we are too tired and hungry to be able to think well Marco said at last let us eat our supper and then go to sleep until we've had a rest we must let go yes there's no good in talking when you're tired the rat answered a trifle gloomily you don't reason straight we must let go their meal was simple but they ate well and without words even when they had finished and undressed for the night they said very little where do our thoughts go when we are asleep the rat inquired casually after he was stretched out in the darkness they must go somewhere let's send them to find out what to do next it's not as still as it was on the Geisberg you could hear the city roaring said Marco drowsily from his dark corner we must make a ledge for ourselves sleep made it for them deep restful healthy sleep if they had been more resentful of their ill luck and lost labor it would have come less easily and have been less natural in their talks of strange things they had learned that one great secret of strength and unflagging courage is to know how to let go to cease thinking over in anxiety until the right moment comes it was their habit to let go for hours sometimes and wonder about looking at places and things galleries, museums, palaces giving themselves up with boyish pleasure and eagerness to all they saw Marco was too intimate with the things worth seeing and the rat too curious and feverishly wide awake to allow of their missing much the rat's image of the world had grown until it seemed to know no boundaries which could hold its wealth of wonders he wanted to go on and on and see them all when Marco opened his eyes in the morning he found the rat lying looking at him then they both sat up in bed at the same time I believe we are both thinking the same thing Marco said they frequently discovered that they were thinking the same things so do I answered the rat it shows how tired we were that we didn't think of it last night yes we are thinking the same things said Marco we have both remembered what we heard about his shutting himself up alone with his pictures I believe he had gone away he's in his palace now the rat announced do you feel sure of that too asked Marco did you wake up and feel sure of it the first thing yes answered the rat as sure as if I'd heard him say it himself so did I said Marco that's what our thoughts brought back to us said the rat when we let go and sent them off last night he sat up hugging his knees and looking straight before him for some time after this and Marco did not interrupt his meditations the day was a brilliant one and though their attic had only one window the sun shone in through it as they ate their breakfast after it they leaned on the window's ledge and talked about the prince's garden they talked about it because it was a place open to the public they walked around it more than once the palace which was not a large one stood in the midst of it the prince was good-natured enough to allow quiet and well-behaved people to saunter through it was not a fashionable promenade but a pleasant retreat for people who sometimes took their work or books and sat on the seats placed here and there among the shrubs and flowers when we were there the first time I noticed two things there is a stone balcony which jets out from the side of the palace which looks on the fountain garden that day there were chairs on it as if the prince and his visitors sometimes sat there near it there was a very large evergreen shrub and I saw that there was a hollow place inside it if someone wanted to stay in the gardens all night to watch the windows when they were lighted and see if anyone came out alone upon the balcony he could hide himself in the hollow place and stay there until the morning is there room for two inside the shrub the rat asked no I must go alone said Marco end of chapter 24 chapter 25 of the lost prince this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Susan Uncle Bay The Lost Prince by Francis Hodgson Burnett chapter 25 A Voice in the Night late that afternoon there wandered about the gardens too quiet inconspicuous rather poorly dressed boys they looked at the palace the shrubs and the flower beds as strangers usually did and they sat on the seats and talked as people were accustomed to seeing boys talk together it was a sunny day and exceptionally warm and there were more saunterers and sitters than usual which was perhaps the reason why the portier at the entrance gates gave such light notice to the pair that he did not observe that though two boys came in only one went out he did not in fact remember when he saw the rat swing by on his crutches that he had entered in the company of a dark-haired lad who walked without any aid it happened that when the rat passed out the portier at the entrance was much interested in the aspect of the sky which was curiously threatening there had been heavy clouds hanging about all day and now and then blotting out the sunshine entirely but the sun had refused to retire altogether just now however the clouds had piled themselves on the purplish mountains and the sun had been forced to set behind them it's been a sort of battle since morning the portier said there will be some crashes and cataracts tonight that was what the rat had thought when they had sat in the fountain garden on a seat which gave them a good view of the balcony and the big evergreen shrub which they knew had the hollow in the middle though its circumference was so imposing if there should be a big storm the evergreen will not save you much though it may keep off the worst the rat said I wish there was room for two he would have wished there was room for two if he had seen Marco marching to the stake as the gardens emptied the boys rose and walked around once more as if on their way out by the time they had sauntered toward the big evergreen nobody was in the fountain garden and the last loiterers were moving toward an entrance to the streets when they drew near one side of the evergreen the two were together when the rat swung out on the other side of it he was alone no one noticed that anything had happened no one looked back so the rat swung down the walks and round the flower beds and passed into the street and the portier looked at the sky and made his remark about the crashes and cataracts as the darkness came on the shrub seemed a very safe place it was not in the least likely that anyone would enter the closed gardens and if by rare chance some servant passed through he would not be in search of people who wished to watch all night in the middle of an evergreen instead of going to bed and to sleep the hollow was well enclosed with greenery and there was room to sit down when one was tired of standing Marco stood for a long time because by doing so he could see plainly the windows opening on the balcony if he gently pushed aside some flexible young vows he had managed to discover in his first visit to the gardens that the windows overlooking the fountain garden were those which belonged to the prince's own suite of rooms those which opened onto the balcony lighted his favorite apartment which contained his best loved books and pictures and in which he spent most of his secluded leisure hours Marco watched these windows anxiously if the prince had not gone to Budapest if he were really only in retreat and hiding from his gay world among his treasures he would be living in his favorite rooms and lights would show themselves and if there were lights he might pass before a window because since he was enclosed in his garden he need not fear being seen the twilight deepened into darkness and because of the heavy clouds he was very dense faint gleams showed themselves in the lower part of the palace but none was lighted in the windows Marco watched he waited so long that it became evident that none was to be lighted at all at last he loosed his hold on the young vows and after standing a few moments in thought sat down upon the earth in the midst of his empowered tent the prince was not in his retreat he was probably not in Vienna and the rumor of his journey to Budapest had no doubt been true so much time lost through making a mistake but it was best to have made the venture not to have made it would have been to lose a chance the entrance was closed for the night and there was no getting out of the gardens until they were open for the next day he must stay in his hiding place until the time when people began to come and bring their books and knitting and sit on the seats then he could stroll out without attracting attention but he had the night before him to spend as best he could that would not matter at all he could tuck his cap under his head and go to sleep on the ground he could command himself to awaken once every half hour and look for the lights he would not go to sleep until it was long past midnight so long past that there would not be one chance in a hundred to happen but the clouds which made the night so dark were giving forth low rumbling growls at intervals a threatening gleam of light shot across them and a sudden swish of wind rushed through the trees in the garden this happened several times and then Marco began to hear the patter of raindrops they were heavy and big drops but few at first and then there was a new and more powerful rush of wind a jagged dart of light in the sky and a tremendous crash after that the clouds tore themselves open and poured forth their contents and floods after the protracted struggle of the day it all seemed to happen at once as if a horde of huge lions had at one moment been let loose flame after flame of lightning roar and crash and sharp reports of thunder shrieks of hurricane wind torrents of rain as if some tidal wave of the skies had gathered and rushed and burst upon the earth it was such a storm as people remember for a lifetime and which in few lifetimes is seen at all Marco stood still in the midst of the rage and flooding blinding roar of it after the first few minutes he knew he could do nothing to shield himself down the garden paths he heard cataracts rushing he held his cap pressed against his eyes because he seemed to stand in the midst of darting flames the crashes, cannon reports and thunderings and the jagged streams of light came so close to one another that he seemed deafened as well as blinded he wondered if he should ever be able to hear human voices again when it was over that he was drenched to the skin and that the water poured from his clothes as if he himself were a cataract was so small a detail that he was scarcely aware of it still bracing his body and waited if he had been a Samavian soldier in the trenches and such a storm had broken upon him and his comrades they could only have braced themselves and waited this was what he found himself thinking when the tumult and downpour were at their worst there were men who had waited in the midst of a rain of bullets it was not long after this thought had come to him that there occurred the first temporary lull in the storm its fury perhaps reached its height and broke at that moment a yellow flame had torn its jagged way across the heavens and an earth-rending crash had thundered itself into rumblings which actually died away before breaking forth again Marco took his cap from his eyes and drew a long breath he drew two long breaths it was as he began drawing a third and realizing the strange feeling of the almost stillness about him that he heard a new kind of sound at the side of the garden nearest his hiding place it sounded like the creek of a door opening somewhere in the wall behind the laurel hedge someone was coming into the garden by a private entrance he pushed aside the young boughs again and tried to see but the darkness was too dense yet he could hear if the thunder would not break again there was the sound of feet on the wet gravel the footsteps of more than one person coming toward where he stood but not as if afraid of being heard merely as if they were at liberty to come in by what entrance they chose Marco remained very still a sudden hope gave him a shock of joy if the man with a tired face chose to hide himself from his acquaintances he might choose to go in and out by a private entrance the footsteps drew near crushing the wet gravel passed by and seemed to pause somewhere near the balcony and then flame lit up the sky again and the thunder burst forth once more but this was its last great peel the storm was at an end only fainter and fainter rumblings and mutterings and paler and paler darts followed even they were soon over and the cataracts in the paths had rushed themselves silent the darkness was still deep it was deep to blackness in the hollow of the evergreen Marco stood in it streaming with rain but feeling nothing because he was full of thought he pushed aside his greenery and kept his eyes on the place in the blackness where the windows must be though he could not see them it seemed that he waited a long time but he knew it only seemed so really he began to breathe quickly he was waiting for something suddenly he saw exactly where the windows were because they were all lighted his feeling of relief was great but it did not last very long it was true that something had been gained in the certainty that his man had not left Vienna but what next? it would not be so easy to follow him if he chose only to go out secretly at night what next? to spend the rest of the night watching a lighted window was not enough tomorrow night it might not be lighted but he kept his gaze fixed upon it he tried to fix all his will and thought power on the person inside the room perhaps he could reach him and make him listen even though he would not know that anyone was speaking to him he knew that thoughts were strong things if angry thoughts in one man's mind will create anger in the mind of another why should not sane messages cross the line? I must speak to you I must speak to you he found himself sane in a low intense voice I am outside here waiting listen I must speak to you he said it many times and kept his eyes fixed upon the window which opened onto the balcony once he saw a man's figure cross the room but he could not be sure who it was the last distant rumblings of thunder had died away and the clouds were breaking it was not long before the dark mountainous spilloes broke apart and a brilliant full moon showed herself sailing in the rift suddenly flooding everything with light parts of the garden were silver white and the tree shadows were like black velvet a silvery lance pierced even into the hollow of Marcos Evergreen and struck across his face perhaps it was this sudden change which attracted the attention of those inside the balcony's room a man's figure appeared at the long windows Marcos saw now that it was the prince he opened the windows and stepped out onto the balcony it is all over he said quietly and he stood with his face lifted looking at the great white sailing moon he stood very still and seemed for the moment to forget the world and himself it was a wonderful triumphant queen of a moon but something brought him back to earth a low but strong and clear boy voice came up to him from the garden path below the lamp is lighted the lamp is lighted it said and the word sounded almost as if someone were uttering a prayer they seemed to call to him and addressed him to draw him he stood still a few seconds in dead silence then he bent over the balustrade the moonlight had not broken the darkness below that is a boy's voice he said in a low tone but I cannot see who is speaking yes it is a boy's voice it answered in a way which somehow moved him because it was so ardent the lamp is lighted wait I am coming down to you the prince said in a few minutes marco heard a door open gently not far from where he stood then the man he had been following so many days appeared at his side how long have you been here he asked before the gates closed I hid myself in the hollow of the big shrub there heinous marco answered then you were out in the storm yes heinous the prince put his hand on the boy's shoulder I cannot see you but it is best to stand in the shadow you are drenched to the skin I have been able to give your heinous the sign marco whispered a storm is nothing there was a silence marco knew that his companion was pausing to turn something over in his mind so he said slowly at length the lamp is lighted and you are sent to bear the sign something in his voice made marco feel that he was smiling what a race you are what a race you samavian laura stands he paused as if to think the thing over again I want to see your face he said next here is a tree with a shaft of moonlight striking through the branches let us step aside and stand under it marco did as he was told the shaft of moonlight fell upon his uplifted face and showed its young strength and darkness quite splendid for the moment in a triumphant glow of joy in obstacles overcome raindrops hung on his hair but he did not look draggled only very wet and picturesque he had reached his man he had given the sign the prince looked him over with interested curiosity yes he said in his cool rather dragging voice you are the son of stefan laura stand also you must be taken care of you must come with me I have trained my household to remain in its own quarters until I require its service I have attached to my own apartments a good safe little room where I sometimes keep people you can dry your clothes and sleep there when the gardens are opened again the rest will be easy but though he stepped out from under the trees and began to move toward the palace in the shadow marco noticed that he moved hesitatingly as if he had not quite decided what he should do he stopped rather suddenly and turned again to marco who was following him there is someone in the room an old man whom it might interest to see you it might also be a good thing for him to feel interest in you I choose that he shall see you as you are I am at your command heinous marco answered he knew his companion was smiling again you have been in training for more centuries than you know and your father has prepared you to encounter the unexpected without surprise marco saw the balcony and paused at a low stone door way hidden behind shrubs the door was a beautiful one marco saw when it was opened and the corridor disclose was beautiful also though it had an air of quiet and aloofness which was not so much secret as private a perfect though narrow staircase mounted from it to the next floor after ascending it the prince led the way through a short corridor we are going in here he said it was a wonderful room the one which opened onto the balcony every piece of furniture in it the hangings, the tapestries and the pictures on the wall were all such as might well have found themselves adorning a museum marco remembered the common report of his escort's favorite amusement of collecting wonders and furnishing his house with the things others exhibited only as marvels and craft the place was rich and mellow with exquisitely chosen beauties in a massive chair upon the hearth sat a figure with bent head it was a tall old man with white hair and mustache his elbows rested upon the arm of his chair and he leaned his forehead on his hand as if he were weary marco's companion crossed the room and stood beside him speaking in a lowered voice marco could not at first hear what he said he himself stood quite still waiting the white haired man lifted his head and listened it seemed as though almost at once he was singularly interested the lowered voice was slightly raised at last and marco heard the last two sentences the only son of stefan lauristan look at him the old man in the chair turned slowly and looked calmly and with questioning curiosity touched with grave surprise he had keen and clear blue eyes then marco still erect and silent waited again the prince had merely said to him an old man whom it might interest to see you he had plainly intended that whatsoever happened he must make no outward sign of seeing more than he had been told he would see an old man to show no astonishment or recognition he had been brought here not to see but to be seen the power of remaining still under scrutiny which the rat had often envied him stood now in good stead because he had seen the white head in tall form not many days before surmounted by brilliant emerald plumes and hung with jewel decorations in the royal carriage escorted by banners and helmets and following troops whose tramping feet kept time to bursts of military music while the populace bared their heads and cheered he is like his father this personage said to the prince but if anyone but laura stan had sent him his looks please me then suddenly to marco you were waiting outside while the storm was going on yes sir marco answered then the two exchanged some words still in the lowered voice you read the news as you made your journey he was asked you know how samavia stands she does not stand said marco the yaro vich and the morano vich have fought his hyenas fight until each has torn the other into fragments and neither has blood or strength left the two glanced at each other a good simile said the older person you are right if a strong party rose and a greater power chose not to interfere the country might see better days he looked at him a few moments longer and then waved his hand kindly you are a fine samavian he said i am glad of that you may go good night marco bowed respectfully and the man with a tired face let him out of the room it was just before he left him in the small quiet chamber in which he was to sleep that the prince gave him a final curious glance i remember now he said in the room when you answered the question about samavia i was sure i had seen you before it was the day of the celebration there was a break in the crowd and i saw a boy looking at me it was you yes said marco it was the time you have gone out since then but i could never get near enough to speak tonight seemed only one chance in a thousand you are doing your work more like a man than a boy was the next speech and it was made reflectively no man could have behaved more perfectly than you did just now when discretion and composure were necessary then after a moment's pause he was deeply interested and deeply pleased good night when the gardens had been thrown open the next morning and people were passing in and out again marco passed out also he was obliged to tell himself two or three times that he had not awakened from an amazing dream he quickened his pace after he had crossed the street because he wanted to get home to the attic and talk to the rat there was a narrow side street it was necessary for him to pass through if he wished to make a short cut as he turned into it he saw a curious figure leaning on crutches against a wall it looked damp and forlorn and he wondered if it could be a beggar it was not it was the rat who suddenly saw who was approaching and swung forward his face was pale and haggard and he looked worn and frightened he dragged off his cap and spoke in a voice which was as hoarse as a crows god be thanked he said as people always said it when they received the sign alone but there was a kind of anguish in his voice as well as relief ain't a camp marco cried out the rat had begged him to call him so what have you been doing how long have you been here ever since I left you last night said the rat clutching tremblingly at his arm as if to make sure it was real if there was not room for two in the hollow there was room for one in the street was it my place to go off duty and leave you alone was it you were out in the storm weren't you said the rat fiercely I huddled against the wall as well I could what did I care crutches don't prevent a fellow waiting I wouldn't have left you if you'd given me orders mutiny when you did not come out as soon as the gates opened I felt as if my head got on fire how could I know what had happened I've not the nerve and backbone you have I go half mad for a second or so marco did not answer but when he put his hand on the damp sleeve the rat actually started because it seemed as though he was looking into the eyes of stephen loristan you look just like your father he exclaimed in spite of himself how tall you are when you are near me marco said in loristan's own voice when you are near me I feel I feel as if I were a royal prince attended by an army you are my army and he pulled off his cap with quick boyishness and added god be thanked the sun was warm in the attic window when they reached their lodging the two leaned on the rough sill as marco told his story it took some time to relate and when he ended he took an envelope from his pocket and showed it to the rat it contained a flat package of money he gave it to me just before he opened the private door marco explained and he said to me it will not be long now after samavia go back to London as quickly as you can as quickly as you can I wonder what he meant the rat said slowly a tremendous thought had shot through his mind but it was not a thought he could speak of to marco I cannot tell I thought it was for some reason he did not expect me to know marco said we will do as he told us as quickly as we can they looked over the newspapers as they did every day it was that the opposing armies of samavia seemed each to have reached the culmination of disaster and exhaustion which party had the power left to take any final step which could call itself a victory it was impossible to say never had a country been in a more desperate case it is the time said the rat, glowering over his map if the secret party rises suddenly now it can take melzar almost without a blow sweep through the country and disarm both armies they are weakened they are half starved they are bleeding to death they want to be disarmed only the yarovic and the maronovic keep on with the struggle because each is fighting for the power to tax the people and make slaves of them if the secret party does not rise the people will and they will rush on the palaces and kill every maronovic and yarovic they find and serve them right let us spend the rest of the day and study in the roadmap again said marco tonight we must be on the way to samavia end of chapter 25