"The King's son is wounded," cried the messenger. "Five days ago he was hunting the deer, and an arrow, glancing falsely, pierced his breast. He was grievously hurt. Even now he may be dying. Why do we waste words? The physicians have done their best, but they have given him up at last. The King raved; he was beyond reason. Suddenly, in his madness he spoke of you, the wizard of this forest. He recalled that day when you cursed him for the sake of your brute creatures. He vowed it was all enchantment. 'Send for the wizard!' he cried. 'Let him cure my son. He dare not refuse, for he claims to be a servant of God.'"
The Hermit was trembling now with emotion. "It is the Lord's will!" he said. "He was wounded while hunting an innocent beast. On the strength and speed of another beast hung his chance for life. And now, only with the aid of another can we reach him in time.—Nay, upon a fourth we must rely to find our way out of the forest. Brutus only can help us. But let us hasten. Come, my friend! Back to the city once more." Calling to the dog, he began to make hurried preparations for departure.
John ran to him. "Do not go to the wicked man!" he whispered. "They may kill you. Oh, what should I do then?"
The Hermit shook his head. "I must go," he said. "It is written, 'Do good to them that hate you.' There is no question of my duty."
"Oh, let me then go with you, father," pleaded John.
The Hermit laid his hand on the boy's head, and looked at him tenderly. "The time is not yet ripe, my son," he said. "Who knows what all this may mean? Wait a little longer. Stay and care for our little friends. From the nearest village I will send Brutus back to you. You will not be lonely, with your work and play as usual. Do not neglect either. Adieu, my dear son!" And he blessed John.
Embracing the boy and bidding farewell to the other friends, the Hermit took his staff and bag of simples, and wrapped his cloak about him. "I trust you, John," he said at the door. "Be patient, obedient, and wise." Then in the folds of his cloak he took the carrier pigeon. "I will send you word by our friend, if need be," he said, as he went out into the darkness.
Brutus and the messenger followed him closely. The door banged behind them, and John was alone with the circle of frightened, cowering creatures. He threw himself on his knees before the Hermit's table, and laying his head on the book, began to weep, he scarcely knew why.