Under the Big Dipper

The void expression of the eyes, now free of fever, slowly yielded to one of recognition and then of shame. A heightened color mantled the brow of the sick youth and an elusive twitch upon the poor lips as they spoke: “How are you, Count? So you have caught me at last?”

The old man flushed, sank to his knee and with both arms extended, leaned over the invalid.

“God greet you, Your Highness! I am more than happy to have found you!”

His voice broke and he grasped the nerveless hands of the youth before him with deep emotion, whispering huskily, “My Prince—my boy!”

Tears gathered into the now softened eyes of the sick youth. The deep feeling shown by the man kneeling at his pallet touched him keenly.

“Do not grieve, dear Count! I am not worth it. Why should you weep for me? Why should you still extend your love and care for one so useless as I?”

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