And then the good monks! He had to stop to explain what a monk was, and when he described the solitude of the ancient monastery, and its walled gardens full of flowers and old simples to be used for healing, and the wise monks walking in the silence and the sun, the boys stared a little helplessly, but still as if they were vaguely pleased by the picture.
And then there was no more to tell--no more. There it broke off, and something like a low howl of dismay broke from the semicircle.
“Aw!'' they protested, “it 'adn't ought to stop there! Ain't there no more? Is that all there is?''
“It's all that was ever known really. And that last part might only be a sort of story made up by somebody. But I believe it myself.''
The Rat had listened with burning eyes. He had sat biting his finger-nails, as was a trick of his when he was excited or angry.
“Tell you what!'' he exclaimed suddenly. “This was what happened. It was some of the Maranovitch fellows that tried to kill him. They meant to kill his father and make their own man king, and they knew the people wouldn't stand it if young Ivor was alive. They just stabbed him in the back, the fiends! Idare say they heard the old shepherd coming, and left him for dead and ran.''
“Right, oh! That was it!'' the lads agreed. “Yer right there, Rat!''
“When he got well,'' The Rat went on feverishly, still biting his nails, “he couldn't go back. He was only a boy. The other fellow had been crowned, and his followers felt strong because they'd just conquered the country. He could have done nothing without an army, and he was too young to raise one. Perhaps he thought he'd wait till he was old enough to know what to do. Idare say he went away and had to work for his living as if he'd never been a prince at all. Then perhaps sometime he married somebody and had a son, and told him as a secret who he was and all about Samavia.'' The Rat began to look vengeful. “If I'd bin him I'd have told him not to forget what the Maranovitch had done to me. I'd have told him that if I couldn't get back the throne, he must see what he could do when he grew to be a man.
And I'd have made him swear, if he got it back, to take it out of them or their children or their children's children in torture and killing. I'd have made him swear not to leave a Maranovitch alive. And I'd have told him that, if he couldn't do it in his life, he must pass the oath on to his son and his son's son, as long as there was a Fedorovitch on earth. Wouldn't you?'' he demanded hotly of Marco.
Marco's blood was also hot, but it was a different kind of blood, and he had talked too much to a very sane man.
“No,'' he said slowly. “What would have been the use? It wouldn't have done Samavia any good, and it wouldn't have done him any good to torture and kill people. Better keep them alive and make them do things for the country. If you're a patriot, you think of the country.'' He wanted to add “That's what my father says,'' but he did not.
“Torture 'em first and then attend to the country,'' snapped The Rat. “What would you have told your son if you'd been Ivor?''
“I'd have told him to learn everything about Samavia--and all the things kings have to know--and study things about laws and other countries--and about keeping silent--and about governing himself as if he were a general commanding soldiers in battle--so that he would never do anything he did not mean to do or could be ashamed of doing after it was over. And I'd have asked him to tell his son's sons to tell their sons to learn the same things.
So, you see, however long the time was, there would always be a king getting ready for Samavia--when Samavia really wanted him.
And he would be a real king.''
He stopped himself suddenly and looked at the staring semicircle.
“I didn't make that up myself,'' he said. “I have heard a man who reads and knows things say it. I believe the Lost Prince would have had the same thoughts. If he had, and told them to his son, there has been a line of kings in training for Samavia for five hundred years, and perhaps one is walking about the streets of Vienna, or Budapest, or Paris, or London now, and he'd be ready if the people found out about him and called him.''
“Wisht they would!'' some one yelled.
