"Nicholas, I desire to tell you a story."
"But you cannot convince me, General," said Nick. "I think Marbosa is right. He has the good of Bharbazonia at heart."
"I believe he has," said the General. "But listen. There once was a high minded man who was a descendant of a long line of kings. His ancestors, for centuries, had not lived in their Fatherland since it fell into the hands of a conquering host from another country. Many of them, leading ineffectual armies of restoration, were killed; and private assassins in the pay of the conquerors murdered any member of the royal family they could find even in exile. To prevent his enemies from killing him, this king, as his father and grandfather before him had done, assumed a fictitious name and went into a far country. There, like any other man, he worked, dreaming of the time when he should come into his own, hoping against hope.
"So completely did he hide himself, that he rarely received news of his home. But one day he learned that the land was free and that his countrymen, deeming the last of their kings dead, had placed a noble upon the throne and thus established another royal family.
"He came back to his Fatherland intent upon proclaiming himself. Through all the years he had carefully preserved the proofs of his identity, and he had no difficulty in convincing a few of the nobles whom he took into his confidence that he was the king. They were intent upon a revolution; but the fame of the present ruler was great; he had been a wonderful soldier in the battles for freedom and the people loved him. The fight which would follow must disrupt the Fatherland, still suffering under the poverty and vice of the years of bondage. An internal quarrel would have destroyed it.
"The king was a great man, greater than the world knew. He restrained his friends in their efforts to win the throne for him. He refused to take it, holding that what his beloved country needed most of all was peace—peace to bind up its wounds and win prosperity and happiness. His friends urged him, but he remained firm. He went away and never pressed his claim. Love of country with him was greater than love for a throne.
"Later he married and a son was born to him. Then his heart misgave him. Had he done well to rob the boy of his birthright? The thought troubled him. Yet he remained true to his better impulses, and still held that his country needed peace. He sought out the oldest friend he had in the county, a man of considerable influence who was in sympathy with the great sacrifice his liege lord was making.
"'Although I have given up my throne,' he said, 'I want my boy some day to reign. The time may come after I am dead when you may see a way to give him his own again without injury to the Fatherland. When that time comes, old friend, will you do it?'
"'I will,' said the friend.
"'The youth is impetuous. He may not be able to see the right as I have seen it. He may not be able to control his selfish motives as I have done. Therefore do you keep my secret from him. But, if the boy wax strong and is able to follow the right course, you may tell him the truth. Until that time shall come keep the secret from him, for the love you bear me and our Fatherland.'"