[Illustration: And the Fourth Voice Was the Voice
of the New Day (see king010.png)]
It was gray dawn when the Pilgrim turned once more to his couch in The
Quiet Room.
Without the Temple, tree and bush and plant and grass were beginning to
stir with fresh and joyous strength, while the clean air was rich with
the smell of the earth life and filled with murmuring, twittering,
whispering, morning calls. Through the open window, into The Quiet Room
where the Pilgrim lay, the Bright Morning entered, and out of the
Morning came the glad, glad Voice of the New Day.
Said this Voice to the Pilgrim: "To thee, O Hadji, I come from the
Infinite Future. The interminable, eternal times that are to come, that
begin but never end. I cry from the Deeps Within. I call from the Great
That Will Be. I, too, am a Voice of Life, and mine it is to complete for
you The Tale of The Uncrowned King."
And this is the part of the Tale that the Voice of the New Day
completed.
Really-Is, the true King of Allthetime, after leaving Wisdom in his
little house beside the road, journeyed slowly and thoughtfully toward
the Royal City Daybyday, along the way that leads to the Golden Gate
Opportunity. And while the pretender, Seemsto-Be, was delighting the
people with great feasts, and amusing them with all manner of festivals,
parades and games, Really-Is, very quietly--so quietly that his brother
did not know--entered the city and took up his abode in a tiny house
under the walls of a deserted temple once sacred to the god
Things-That-Ought-To-Be.
And so it was that when Seemsto-Be went forth from the royal palace to
ride in grand procession, clothed in regal splendors, with the Crown
upon his head, and surrounded by gorgeous soldiers of rank and pompous
officials of state, with the royal trumpeters proclaiming his greatness
and power and the multitude shouting loud expressions of their loyalty,
Really-Is, the King, stood still beside the way, smiling, smiling sadly
at the pretty show.
[Illustration: (see king011.png)]
And never did Really-Is neglect to make his offering every morning in
the temple sacred to the god Things-That-Ought-To-Be; though in secret
he worshiped there because of the decree of Seemsto-Be. And no one told
the false ruler that his commandment was broken, nor spoke to him the
name of his brother Really-Is.
But after a while, as time passed by, things went not so gaily with the
impostor on the throne of Allthetime. And it was the Crown that did
it--that wonderful Magic Crown.
The Court Fool noticed it first and made a jest about it, and Seemsto-Be
laughed royally long and loud, and all the Court laughed with him, for
the fool, Thinks-He-Is, is a most famous fool, the greatest that has
ever been since the Father of Fools was born.
Next, the Lord Chief High Chamberlain noticed, and the Lord Chief High
Chamberlain whispered to Seemsto-Be a most portentous whisper. And the
portentous whisper of the Lord Chief High Chamberlain reached the ears
of the Chief First Officer of State; then passed from Officer of State
to Officer of State until it reached the Chief Captain of the Guard, and
soon the soldiers of the royal army and even the royal servants of the
palace were whispering, whispering, whispering about the strange affair.
Then it was that Seemsto-Be sent throughout the kingdom, commanding in
haste to the palace the most expert workers in gems and the most cunning
workers in gold to be found in the Land of Allthetime.
It was true. The priceless jewels of the Magic Crown were losing their
brilliancy. The precious gold of the Crown was becoming dull. Nor could
all the skill of the workers in gems, all the craft of the workers in
gold restore the beauty of the Crown or keep its fading splendor.
And so the whispers grew louder and louder until the people began to
talk in low tones among themselves, questioning, questioning one another
of the meaning of this thing. And at last the Royal Officers of State
began to look with distrust and fear upon their ruler, who tried so hard
to wear bravely his crown of tarnished gold and lusterless gems; and the
soldiers came to look with doubt and fear upon the officers, who
whispered so among themselves; and the people looked with suspicion and
fear upon them all.
Without understanding, filled with dread and apprehension, worn with
wracking worry, poor Seemsto-Be sought with honors, decorations, and
distinguishing titles to hold the fast-failing confidence of his court
and army, and with holidays more frequent, festivals more gay, games
more interesting, and parades more gorgeous, tried to keep the waning
loyalty of his people.
Now all this time, while the poor foolish pretender, Seemsto-Be, was
losing his power even as the beauty of the Magic Crown was fading, King
Really-Is lived very quietly in his little house under the walls of the
abandoned temple, and never did he fail to make his daily offering to
his god, the god Things-That-Ought-To-Be. And always when his brother
Seemsto-Be with the fading Crown upon his head, passed in gorgeous
procession of state, surrounded by his distrustful officers, doubting
soldiers and suspicious people, Really-Is smiled sadly and whispered to
himself: "Poor Seemsto-Be, poor foolish one!"
So it was, that in all the Royal City Daybyday, in the Land of
Allthetime, peace and understanding dwelt only in the heart of this
King.
And the people more and more came to love Really-Is, even as they more
and more turned from Seemsto-Be, notwithstanding the holidays, feasts
and parades. Little by little, they learned to watch daily for their
King, and with the children would run to greet him. More and more the
multitude pressed about Really-Is when he stood quietly in the street,
watching Seemsto-Be pass by in the splendid chariot of state. More and
more the people went daily with Really-Is to worship in the temple
sacred to the god Things-That-Ought-To-Be.
So the time came at last when the Magic Crown, tarnished and dull,
seemed but a mockery, fit only for the rubbish heap; when the Officers
of State spoke aloud their doubts and fears and the soldiers were openly
disobedient; when the people, as the pretender passed through the city
streets, no longer shouted aloud expressions of their loyalty, but, with
dark looks of doubt and anger, stood silent, or laughed in mocking glee.
And Seemsto-Be grew afraid.
Then in secret the false prince went alone to the house of his brother
the King and prostrated himself humbly.
"What is your wish, my brother?" asked Really-Is, kindly, "make known to
me your request."
And Seemsto-Be taking heart at the gentleness of Really-Is answered:
"This is my wish, O King--my brother, this is my request; that you come
to dwell with me in the royal palace, that you share with me the throne.
Twins we are, sons of our royal father, of the royal family Everyone.
Therefore let us rule together the Land of Allthetime."
Answered Really-Is. "By your coming to me, Seemsto-Be, I know that you,
too, at last have learned the Secret of the Magic of the Crown. What of
the Crown, brother?"
And the pretender replied: "No one can tell us one from the other. You
only shall wear the Crown; then for us both will its glory come again
and remain, then will all be well."
But King Really-Is answered sadly: "O my brother, that which you ask
cannot be. In the Law of the Ages it is written that a King of
Allthetime cannot, if he would, share his throne and power with one who
is false, else would he himself be held unworthy I have seen your
wretchedness, my brother; I have seen and I have pitied."
Then Seemsto-Be went sadly out from the presence of his brother, the
King, and the next morning they found him dead on the steps of the
temple sacred to the god Things-Are-Good-Enough.
And now with great tumult and shouting the people gathered to do homage
to Really-Is. And never was there seen in Daybyday such a multitude.
From the uttermost parts of Allthetime they came, for the word of his
life had gone far, far abroad and all the world that is, gathered to do
him honor.
And it happened, when all was ready for Really-Is to ascend the throne,
and the royal trumpeters had lifted their trumpets ready to proclaim him
King of Allthetime, with the vast multitude breathless, ready at the
signal of the trumpets to break forth in a great, glad shout, "Long live
the king," and the Lord Chief High Chamberlain turned to take the Magic
Crown from the hands of the High Priest of Things-That-Ought-To-Be, that
even as he turned the Crown vanished, and lo! there was in the hands of
the priest, nothing.
In consternation the Lord Chief High Chamberlain whispered to the royal
high officials about him, asking what should be done. In consternation,
the royal high officials whispered among themselves. In consternation
they whispered back to the Chamberlain.