THE NIGHTINGALE
risen from his bed; he now stood by the window in his imperial robes, and the jewels in the golden crown upon his head flashed and sparkled in the moonlight. Taking his heavy sword he pressed the golden hilt against his heart as he repeated, 'anything—anything!'
'It is just one little thing,' said the Nightingale. 'Never let any one know that you have a little gray bird who tells you everything. It is far better.'
With that the Nightingale skipped to a branch of the tree, trilled a long trill, and then, in the grey light of dawn, flew off to her nest.
When the courtiers and attendants came in to view the body of their late master, he was still standing by the window in his imperial robes. They gasped in horror at missing their grief.
'Good morning!' said the emperor.
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