At the same moment her voice died away into a low whine, then rose into a howl such as an animal gives in pain. Struggling from her husband"s arms she leaped from the sleigh.
Instantly Hans followed, holding out his arms piteously and calling, "Ursula! Ursula!"
But the white, furry figure did not hear. It was hurrying forward toward the great bear.
"Come to me, my Child!" said the bear again. "Leave the wicked man who betrayed his friend and sought to kill her. Come, let us punish him!"
Her words ended in a fierce growl, which was echoed by the other white figure, as she turned about and looked at Hans. And oh, what was this!
With horror he saw that his little bride had, indeed, turned into a furry white bear. Her eyes burned red and angry as she looked at him, and she showed her teeth as if her mother"s words had turned all her love of Hans into hatred, for the old bear"s sake.
She seemed about to spring upon Hans and tear him to pieces. But suddenly her look changed. She folded her paws upon her furry breast, and Hans saw tears, human tears, come into the little bear"s eyes. It was the last token of her human life, the last gleam of her fondness for him. She could not punish him as her mother bade. She would not let evil happen to him, even though he had done such a cruel wrong, because she had once been his little Ursula.
Dropping upon all fours she ran toward her mother, and they laid noses together for their first caress. She seemed to say something to the old bear in a silent language, which was answered by a deep, sullen growl.
After this, without a further glance at Hans, the two bears turned about and trotted away together into the forest. Hans the Hunter never saw them again.
But after that the gun of Hans hung rusty on the wall of his lonely hut.
The hard spot in his heart had melted.
XXI
RED REX AND KING VICTOR
Hardly had Harold finished speaking these last words in the tragic story of the Bear"s Daughter, when there arose from the market-place such a hubbub and commotion that the Red King"s comments on the tale were quite lost. Voices were shouting and cheering; trumpets were blowing and drums beating; over the clang of weapons and neighing of horses one caught the _tramp, tramp_ of marching feet.
Red Rex sprang to his feet, drawing his sword and growing very red in the face. Once again he was the fierce and terrible War-Lord. But Harold did not notice. He was too much excited at the tumult going on outside.
He ran hastily to the window and looked out. The square was full of soldiers and banners and gayly decked horses. Men-at-arms crowded the side streets, pouring continuously into the square. The ruined porch of the library was crowded. A guard stood at the portal.
In the center of the square, bestriding a white horse, sat a stately figure, dressed all in white armor. His snowy head was uncovered and he spoke to the cheering people smilingly.
A great shout arose as he finished his speech. "Long live our good King Victor!"
Harold joined in the shout. "Hurrah! Hurrah!"
And Robert and Richard, scrambling up beside him, echoed the cheer,--"Hurrah! Hurrah! Long live King Victor!"
"Our good King has come to Kisington at last!" cried Harold, turning back into the library.
He had quite forgotten his warlike guest and why King Victor had come to Kisington. Indeed, for the moment every one seemed to have forgotten Red Rex. The Librarian, the Lord Mayor, and the other Leading Citizens had disappeared, and the library seemed quite empty. But in one corner of the alcove where the last story had been read, Red Rex was standing at bay. He had drawn up before him a heavy table, behind which he stood, sword in hand, one foot advanced, his red beard bristling.
"Yes, I am trapped!" snarled Red Rex. "You have caught me, boy. But you shall pay for this!"
Harold and the Red King stood staring at one another. The _tramp, tramp_ of feet sounded on the staircase, coming nearer. Along the hall came the tread. The door of the hall opened, and a martial group crossed the threshold. Foremost came their King, King Victor himself, the splendid, white-haired peace hero. The three boys dropped each on one knee before him.
For a moment the King stood gazing about him mildly, without speaking.
He was tall and stately, but his eyes were kind, even merry, and with all his dignity there was nothing to strike fear even into the heart of a child. Presently his eyes caught the figure of the trapped War-Lord, barricaded and at bay in the corner.
He stepped forward with a friendly air and held out his hand. "Welcome, Cousin!" he said in a hearty voice.
Red Rex glared at him, fairly bristling with rage. "Do not mock me!" he bl.u.s.tered. "I know well enough that I have been trapped and that the word of the Lord Mayor of this town, given to me, will not count now.
But you shall not take me alive. I will slay the first who lays hand on me!" He waved his sword furiously. Harold had never seen him look so terrible.
"Nay, nay!" cried King Victor mildly. "You mistake, indeed, Cousin!"
But the enraged Red King would not listen, and went on with his wild accusations.
"I have been trapped by children!" he raged. "Delayed by tales! Deceived by promises! I trusted all these and disbanded my army, fool that I was!
But take me if you can!" Again he flourished his sword and ground his teeth.
King Victor stood looking at the War-Lord without speaking. At last he raised his hand with a grand gesture and said with emphasis and sincerity, "You are making a great mistake, Cousin! You are not trapped.
The promise of the Lord Mayor is sacred. In my land a word is as good as a treaty. You are quite free to go, if you list. But, indeed, we hope you will deign to stay, as our honored guest. It is the first time you have graced our Kingdom with your presence, Cousin. We long to be friends with you; to see lasting peace between our neighboring lands."
"You come with an army," retorted Red Rex sullenly. "You came in response to summons. You came to combat me."
"That is true," a.s.sented King Victor. "When we heard that Kisington was besieged, we gathered together our peaceful army and hastened hither in the interests of peace. But we arrive to find, instead of a b.l.o.o.d.y siege, a peaceful King enjoying this library. We hasten to add our own welcome to that of Kisington"s Leading Citizens. We invite you to remain, Cousin, and enjoy not only these but other treasures of our Kingdom which it may be to your advantage to know better."
"If my army had not disbanded," bl.u.s.tered the War-Lord, "you would not be speaking to me so debonairly."
"Maybe not, maybe not!" agreed King Victor.
"Yet, our volunteer police force embraces every citizen of our Kingdom.
We should have surrounded you without trouble or bloodshed, Cousin. We could have persuaded your army by sheer force of numbers and opinion, without doubt. But let us not think of that. Let us rather consider the pleasanter things which surround us. Shall we not be friends, Cousin? We know your Kingdom well. We have read and studied about it thoroughly in our books. We have, indeed, traveled all over it in peaceful disguise.
Come, you ought to become as well acquainted with ours; then I am sure we should never misunderstand one another again. Say, Cousin Rex, shall it be?"
He advanced a step nearer the other, holding out his hand and smiling genially. His sincerity was plain.
The War-Lord dropped his sword. "I believe you!" he cried, stepping forward and grasping the proffered hand. "Cousin, Neighbor, let there be peace between our whole kingdoms; even as we promised between myself and Kisington."
"So be it!"
The two monarchs embraced in kingly fashion, and sat down in a retired alcove for a pleasant chat.
It was not long before Harold was summoned to the pair. King Victor received him kindly, and Red Rex grinned. "We have heard the tale of your service to the State and to our Royal Friend, Harold," said King Victor graciously. "We would fain give you a suitable reward, my brave Bookworm. What shall it be? Tell me your wish."
Harold flushed and stammered. "I do not wish a reward for the little I did, Sire," he said. "I had no thought of that. Indeed, it was a pleasure to read for His Majesty."
"Yea, so we believe!" smiled the King. "Yet some reward we owe for your true office. What shall it be?"
Harold hesitated, thinking. "Truly, for myself I ask nothing," he said.
"Yet, perhaps, Sire, you would help my mother, my dear mother, so that she need not work so hard while I am learning to be a scholar."
"It shall be so!" cried the King. "She shall have a little maid to help her; money to pay the rent, buy food and clothes and modest pleasures.
These shall she have. But for yourself, Harold? We must show you some special favor, for our own comfort."
"Well," said Harold, "one thing I scarcely dare to ask. But I should like more time to read in the library while His Majesty is here. Maybe I could serve him better if I had not to go to school these days. May the school children have a vacation of a week, Sire?"
"A fortnight!" cried King Victor, beaming. "It is the very pith of our talk, my boy. For a week the King our Cousin is fain to tarry in Kisington, and he asks no better than yourself to be his guide, philosopher, and friend. Then for a week he will be my guest, traveling with me over the Kingdom, visiting certain places whereabout you have made him curious by your stories. He asks that you may go as his page.
Both these things are possible if we grant the school a fortnight"s recess. It shall be done. But still, this is little reward for your wise doings, my boy. Ask something more."