the king of Poland, cousin to the dead King Gustavus, openly advocated his claim to the throne.
But the Grand Chancellor, Axel Oxenstiern, one of Sweden's greatest statesmen, acted promptly.
"Let there be no talk between us," he said, "of Venetian republics or of Polish kings. We have but one king—the daughter of the immortal Gustavus!"
Then up spoke one of the leading representatives of the peasant class, Lars Larsson, the deputy from the western fiords.
"Who is this daughter of Gustavus?" he demanded. How do we know this is no trick of yours, Axel Oxenstiern? How do we know that King Gustavus has a daughter? We have never seen her."
"You shall see her at once," replied the Chancellor; and leaving the Hall for an instant, he returned speedily, leading a little girl by the hand. With a sudden movement he lifted her to the seat of the high silver throne that could only be occupied by the kings of Sweden.
"Swedes, behold your king!"
Lars Larsson, the deputy, pressed close to the throne on which the small figure perched silent, yet with a defiant little look upon her face.
"She hath the face of the Grand Gustavus," he said. Look, brothers, the nose, the eyes, the very brows are his."
