Gradually lost their power to disturb him, utter weariness at last sealed his

Eyes in a profound and restful sleep. Hour after hour slipped away, and still

He slept like the dead. Thus four or five hours passed. Then his stupor began

to lighten. Presently, while half asleep and half awake, he murmured:

'Sir William!'

After a moment:

'Ho, Sir William Herbert! Hie thee hither, and list to the strangest dream that

ever.... Sir William! Dost hear? Man, I did think me changed to a pauper,

and... Ho there! Guards! Sir William! What! is there no groom of the

chamber in waiting? Alack it shall go hard with —'

'What aileth thee?' asked a whisper near him. 'Who art thou calling?'

'Sir William Herbert. Who art thou?'

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'I? Who should I be, but thy sister Nan? Oh, Tom, I had forgot! Tbou'rt mad

yet — poor lad thou'rt mad yet, would I had never woke to know it again!

But, prithee, master thy tongue, lest we be all beaten till we die!'

The startled prince sprang partly up, but a sharp reminder from his stiffened

Bruises brought him to himself, and he sunk back among his foul straw with a

moan and the ejaculation:

'Alas, it was no dream, then!'

In a moment all the heavy sorrow and misery which sleep had banished were

Upon him again, and he realized that he was no longer a petted prince in a

Palace, with the adoring eyes of a nation upon him, but a pauper, an outcast,