He looked up and beheld the most beautiful woman his eyes had ever seen. Instinctively, he rose and bowed low, but made no answer.
"The princess speaks. It is your duty to answer," said another voice, that of an attendant.
A princess! Of course, none but a princess could be so fair. And what a sympathetic voice she possessed. As a prince, he remembered, he had spoken harshly as a rule, and had never visited any of the charitable institutions.
"You must have a history," said the princess, kindly. "Tell it to me. If it is to be kept a secret, you may place confidence in me. I shall not betray you."
The prince was on the point of telling her everything but he hesitated and said:
"Alas! I am an unhappy, wandering beggar, as you see, O most gracious princess. But pity me not. I am not worthy of your kind thoughts. A year ago I dwelt in a—a beautiful house. I was the only son of a—rich merchant, and my father lavished all his love and wealth on me. But I was wicked. I was unkind to people, and I was cast forth and ordered not to return until I had learned to Count Five. I have not yet learned. I am doomed to a wretched life. That is the whole of my history."
"Strange," murmured the princess. "I will help thee if I can."
Next day she came again to the shelter, and with her was the rabbi who had given the prince good counsel. The rabbi made no sign that he had seen the stranger before.
"This sage of the Jews is a wise man and will teach thee," said the princess, and, at her bidding, the prince repeated what he had said the previous night.
"It is a simple lesson," said the rabbi, "so absurdly simple, unfortunately, that proud people overlook it. Tell me, my son," he added. "Hast thou experienced hunger?"