Perhaps a very splendid personage, with a crown on his head and a scepter in his hand, sitting on a throne and judging the people. Always doing right, and never wrong--“The king can do no wrong” was a law laid down in olden times. Never cross, or tired, or sick, or suffering; perfectly handsome and well dressed, calm and good-tempered, ready to see and hear everybody, and discourteous to nobody; all things always going well with him, and nothing unpleasant ever happening. This, probably, was what Prince Dolor expected to see. And what did he see? But I must tell you how he saw it. “Ah,” said the magpie, “no levee to-day. The King is ill, though his Majesty does not wish it to be generally known--it would be so very inconvenient. He can't see you, but perhaps you might like to go and take a look at him in a way I often do? It is so very amusing.” Amusing, indeed! The prince was just now too much excited to talk much. Was he not going to see the king his uncle, who had succeeded his father and dethroned himself; had stepped into all the pleasant things that he, Prince Dolor, ought to have had, and shut him up in a desolate tower? What was he like, this great, bad, clever man? Had he got all the things he wanted, which another ought to have had? And did he enjoy them? “Nobody knows,” answered the magpie, just as if she had been sitting inside the prince's heart, instead of on the top of his shoulder. “He is a king, and that's enough. For the rest nobody knows.” As she spoke, Mag flew down on to the palace roof, where the cloak had rested, settling down between the great stacks of chimneys as comfortably as if on the ground. She pecked at the tiles with her beak--truly she was a wonderful bird--and immediately a little hole opened, a sort of door, through which could be seen distinctly the chamber below. “Now look in, my Prince. Make haste, for I must soon shut it up again.” But the boy hesitated. “Isn't it rude?--won't they think us intruding?” “Oh, dear no! there's a hole like this in every palace; dozens of holes, indeed. Everybody knows it, but nobody speaks of it. Intrusion! Why, though the royal family are supposed to live shut up behind stone walls ever so thick, all the world knows that they live in a glass house where everybody can see them and throw a stone at them. Now pop down on your knees, and take a peep at his Majesty.” His Majesty! The Prince gazed eagerly down into a large room, the largest room he had ever beheld, with furniture and hangings grander than anything he could have ever imagined. A stray sunbeam, coming through a crevice of the darkened windows, struck across the carpet, and it was the loveliest carpet ever woven--just like a bed of flowers to walk over; only nobody walked over it, the room being perfectly empty and silent. “Where is the King?” asked the puzzled boy.