CHAPTER V
“I told you so, Maxchen!” Betty announced triumphantly, as a half hour later, explanations having been finished, the three children and Tzandi clustered on the tiger skin, before the fire of pine logs. “I told you Grandpapa Franzchen would bring them to you. There isn’t anything in this world he can’t do. And now, Fritzl, commence at the very first beginning, and tell it all over again!”
“Oh, poor Fritzl,” she cried, slipping a warm hand into his, as he came to that part of his story, where Tzandi and he were driven out of the doorways, in which they had sought shelter, the night before.
“Poor little Fritzl,” echoed the Prince, “all cold and lonely!”
“I wasn’t exactly lonely,” said Fritzl loyally, looking down at Tzandi at his feet, sleeping the sleep of a well-fed dog, “but I was awful hungry!”
“Well,” cried the small Archduchess stoutly, “it was the very last time, Fritzl. You sha’n’t be hungry or cold any more, ever again!”
“Sit thou closer to me, Fritzchen,” commanded the Prince: “now I will tell thee my story.”
Then he told Fritzl how he had never been able to run or walk like other boys. How, for nearly two years, the famous surgeon had been treating him. How, that very Christmas night, he was to walk for the first time.
“But if he fail?” faltered Fritzl, tears of anxiety in his eyes and voice.
“He will not fail,” the Prince said proudly: “he never fails anyone—my Herr Doctor! And now, Fritzl,” all a boy’s love of fun flashing into his eyes, “make Tzandi dance!”