The boy laughed, and pointed to a little stool which stood beside the settle. "Sit down there," he said, "and I will tell thee. I have often wished to have a little sister of my own, and now I will pretend that thou art my little sister." Princess Jean did as she was bid, and went and sat down on the stool, and the stranger began his tale. "My name is Hynde Horn," he said, "and I am a King's son." "And I am a King's daughter," said the little Princess, and then they both laughed. Then the boy's face grew grave again. "They called my father King Allof," he said, "and my mother's name was Queen Godyet, and they reigned over a beautiful country far away in the East. I was their only son, and we were all as happy as the day was long, until a wicked king, called Mury, came with his soldiers, and fought against my father, and killed him, and took his kingdom. My mother and I tried to escape, but the fright killed my mother--she died in a hut in the forest where we had hidden ourselves, and some soldiers found me weeping beside her body, and took me prisoner, and carried me to the wicked King. "He was too cruel to kill me outright--he wanted me to die a harder death--so he bade his men tie my hands and my feet, and carry me down to the sea-shore, and put me in a boat, and push it out into the sea; and there they left me to die of hunger and thirst. "At first the sun beat down on my face, and burned my skin, but by and by it grew dark, and a great storm arose, and the boat drifted on and on, and I grew so hungry, and then so thirsty--oh! I thought I would die of thirst--and at last I became unconscious, for I remember nothing more until I woke up to find yonder kind old dame bending over me." "The boat was washed up on our shore, just as his Highness the King rode past," explained old Elspeth, who was stirring some posset over the fire, and listening to the story. "And what did you say your name was?" demanded the little Princess, who had listened with eager attention to the story. "Hynde Horn," repeated the boy, whose eyes were wet with tears at the thought of all that he had gone through. "Prince Hynde Horn," corrected Princess Jean, who liked always to have her title given to her, and expected that other people liked the same. "Well, I suppose I ought to be King Horn now, were it not for that wicked King who hath taken my Kingdom, as well as my father's life; but the people in my own land always called me Hynde Horn, and I like the old name best." "But what doth it mean?" persisted the little Princess. The boy blushed and looked down modestly. "It is an old word which in our language means 'kind' or 'courteous,' but I am afraid that they flattered me, for I did not always deserve it." The little Princess clapped her hands. "We will call thee by it," she said, "until thou provest thyself unworthy of it." After this a new life opened up for the little girl.