“Ah,” sighed the Queen, as she took the rosebud from the doctor, “how like my poor lost daughter!”
“I do not see the resemblance, sire and madam,” said the doctor; “but listen to Ardram;” and he went out of the room, leaving the King and Queen to hearken to the man who had taken their throne from them. He was talking in a loud tone to the mob, and telling them they ought to elect the Rose-Princess for their Queen, as she would know how to govern better than her parents. The sun was just rising, and the golden beams were shining on his face, so that he looked truly noble.
“A seditious traitor!” cried the King.
“Cut his head off!” said the Queen.
But they had not the power to do so, and, amid cries of “Long live Queen Rose!” Ardram leaped from his standing-place, and all the mob swept down the street to look for the lost Princess.
The King and Queen turned from the window in great anger, when they saw to their surprise that the Rose-Princess was standing in the room.
“My child, my child!” said the King, kissing her.
“It was your rosebud, then?” said the Queen, folding the beautiful girl in her arms.
“What rosebud?” asked the Rose-Princess in surprise; “and how did I come here?”
“The doctor brought you,” said the King.