And ordered to quit the region and come back no more. His sword was

Restored to him, and also his mule and his donkey. He mounted and rode off,

Followed by the king, the crowd opening with quiet respectfulness to let them

Pass, and then dispersing when they were gone.

Hendon was soon absorbed in thought. There were questions of high import

to be answered. What should he do? Whither should he go? Powerful help

Must be found somewhere, or he must relinquish his inheritance and remain

Under the imputation of being an impostor besides. Where could he hope to

find this powerful help? Where, indeed! It was a knotty question. By and by a

Thought occurred to him which pointed to a possibility — the slenderest of

Slender possibilities, certainly, but still worth considering, for lack of any

Other that promised anything at all. He remembered what old Andrews had

said about the young king's goodness and his generous championship of the

Wronged and unfortunate. Why not go and try to get speech of him and beg

for justice? Ah, yes, but could so fantastic a pauper get admission to the

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august presence of a monarch? Never mind — let that matter take care of

Itself; it was a bridge that would not need to be crossed till he should come to

It. He was an old campaigner, and used to inventing shifts and expedients; no