So, awakening from a doze, he saw the boy there, and called him Hubert. Prince Ferdinand William Otto, feeling rather worried, did the only thing he could think of. He thrust his warm hand into his grandfather’s groping one, and the touch of his soft flesh roused the King.
The Sister left them together, and in her small room dropped on her knees before the holy image. There, until he left, she prayed for the King’s soul, for the safety and heavenly guidance of the boy. The wind stirred her black habit and touched gently her white coif. She prayed, her pale lips moving silently.
In the King’s bedchamber Prince Ferdinand William Otto sat on a high chair, and talked. He was extremely relieved that his exile was over, but he viewed his grandfather, with alarm. His aunt had certainly intimated that his running away had made the King worse. And he looked very ill.
“I’m awfully sorry, grandfather,” he said.
“It was, after all, a natural thing to do.”
The Crown Prince could hardly believe his ears.
“If it could only be arranged safely--a little freedom--” The King lay still with closed eyes.
Prince Ferdinand William Otto felt uneasy. “But I am very comfortable, and--and happy,” he hastened to say. “You are, please, not to worry about me, sir. And about the paper I threw at Monsieur Puaux the other day, I am sorry about that too. I don’t know exactly why I did it.”
The King still held his hand, but he said nothing. There were many things he wanted to say. He had gone crooked where this boy must go straight. He had erred, and the boy must avoid his errors. He had cherished enmities, and in his age they cherished him. And now-- “May I ask you a question, sir?”
“Will you tell me about Abraham Lincoln?”
“Why?” The King was awake enough now. He fixed the Crown Prince with keen eyes.
“Well, Miss Braithwaite does not care for him. She says he was not a great man, not as great as Mr. Gladstone, anyhow. But Bobby--that’s the boy I met; I told you about him--he says he was the greatest man who ever lived.”
“And who,” asked the King, “do you regard as the greatest man?”
Prince Ferdinand William Otto fidgeted, but he answered bravely, “You, sir.”
“Humph!” The King lay still, smiling slightly. “Well,” he observed, “there are, of course, other opinions as to that. However--Abraham Lincoln was a very great man. A dreamer, a visionary, but a great man. You might ask Miss Braithwaite to teach you his ‘Gettysburg Address.’ It is rather a model as to speech-making, although it contains doctrines that--well, you’d better learn it.”