soul of the king lay open to the voice of his child, and that voice had power either to change the aspect of his visions, or, which was better still, to breathe hope into his heart, and courage to endure them.
Curdie came near, and softly called her.
"I can't leave papa just yet," she returned, in a low voice.
"I will wait," said Curdie; "but I want very much to say something."
In a few minutes she came to him where he stood under the lamp.
"Well, Curdie, what is it?" she said.
"Princess," he replied, "I want to tell you that I have found why your grandmother sent me."
"Come this way, then," she answered, "where I can see the face of my king."
Curdie placed a chair for her in the spot she chose, where she would be near enough to mark any slightest change on her father's countenance, yet where their low-voiced talk would not disturb him. There he sat down beside her and told her all the story—how her grand-mother had sent her good pigeon for him, and how she had instructed him, and sent him there without telling him what he had to do. Then he told her what he had discovered of the state of things generally in Gwyntystorm, and specially what he had heard and seen in the palace that night.
