and Zaida, in their richest robes, stood to welcome the conqueror.
Peter, his heart throbbing with happiness, sought a quiet corner to look on. He had met Sabas and his sons when the army was disbanding, and had sent messages and gifts to Maria. He had seen Fontanus and his sons riding home, and was to visit them in a day or two. For a last drop to his cup of joy, he found Beauty quite safe. Zaida’s little son, who was also a Stephen, brought the bird to him in a wicker cage.
“We fed it every day, mother and I,” he prattled. “Mother said, for the sake of the good boy that helped to save us all.”
Beauty was quite tame in his master’s care, so Peter took him out and let the little boy stroke his soft, white feathers.
“Here you are,” cried a servant importantly, bursting in upon them, “they’re searching the castle over for you, Master Peter. Come at once. They want you to sit down at the feast.”
The servant hurried him to the great hall. There, at the prince’s table, was a vacant chair, and they all looked kindly at him when he was guided to it.
“Thy place is close to me, my son,” said the prince. And for a moment, Peter could not see his neighbors for happy tears.
That is really all we need to know of Peter. In the prince’s household, he grew to be a brave and honored man as he had been a brave and faithful boy.
The wars with the Turks were not over. They came
