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MILES HENDON was picturesque enough before he got into the riot on
London Bridge- he was more so when he got out of it. He had but little
money when he got in, none at all when he got out. The pickpockets had
stripped him of his last farthing.
But no matter, so he found his boy. Being a soldier, he did not go
at his task in a random way, but set to work, first of all, to arrange
his campaign.
What would the boy naturally do? Where would he naturally go?
Well- argued Miles- he would naturally go to his former haunts, for
that is the instinct of unsound minds, when homeless and forsaken,
as well as of sound ones. Whereabouts were his former haunts? His
rags, taken together with the low villain who seemed to know him and
who even claimed to be his father, indicated that his home was in
one or other of the poorest and meanest districts of London. Would the
search for him be difficult, or long? No, it was likely to be easy and
brief. He would not hunt for the boy, he would hunt for a crowd; in
the center of a big crowd or a little one, sooner or later he should
find his poor little friend, sure; and the mangy mob would be
entertaining itself with pestering and aggravating the boy, who
would be proclaiming himself king, as usual. Then Miles Hendon would
cripple some of those people, and carry off his little ward, and
comfort and cheer him with loving words, and the two would never be
separated any more.
So Miles started on his quest. Hour after hour he tramped
through back alleys and squalid streets, seeking groups and crowds,
and finding no end of them, but never any sign of the boy. This
greatly surprised him, but did not discourage him. To his notion,
there was nothing the matter with his plan of campaign; the only
miscalculation about it was that the campaign was becoming a lengthy
one, whereas he had expected it to be short.
When daylight arrived at last, he had made many a mile, and
canvassed many a crowd, but the only result was that he was
tolerably tired, rather hungry, and very sleepy. He wanted some
breakfast, but there was no way to get it. To beg for it did not occur
to him; as to pawning his sword, he would as soon have thought of
parting with his honor; he could spare some of his clothes- yes, but
one could as easily find a customer for a disease as for such clothes.
At noon he was still tramping- among the rabble which followed
after the royal procession now; for he argued that this regal
display would attract his little lunatic powerfully. He followed the
pageant through all its devious windings about London, and all the way
to Westminster and the Abbey. He drifted here and there among the
multitudes that were massed in the vicinity for a weary long time,
baffled and perplexed, and finally wandered off thinking, and trying
to contrive some way to better his plan of campaign. By and by, when
he came to himself out of his musings, he discovered that the town was
far behind him and that the day was growing old. He was near the
river, and in the country; it was a region of fine rural seats- not
the sort of district to welcome clothes like his.
It was not at all cold; so he stretched himself on the ground in
the lee of a hedge to rest and think. Drowsiness presently began to
settle upon his senses; the faint and far-off boom of cannon was
wafted to his ear, and he said to himself, 'The new king is
crowned,' and straightway fell asleep. He had not slept or rested,
before, for more than thirty hours. He did not wake again until near
the middle of the next morning.
He got up, lame, stiff, and half famished, washed himself in the
river, stayed his stomach with a pint or two of water, and trudged off
toward Westminster grumbling at himself for having wasted so much
time. Hunger helped him to a new plan now; he would try to get
speech with old Sir Humphrey Marlow and borrow a few marks, and- but
that was enough of a plan for the present; it would be time enough
to enlarge it when this first stage should be accomplished.
Toward eleven o'clock he approached the palace; and although a
host of showy people were about him, moving in the same direction,
he was not inconspicuous- his costume took care of that. He watched
these people's faces narrowly, hoping to find a charitable one whose
possessor might be willing to carry his name to the old lieutenant- as
to trying to get into the palace himself, that was simply out of the
question.
Presently our whipping-boy passed him, then wheeled about and
scanned his figure well, saying to himself, 'An that is not the very
vagabond his majesty is in such a worry about, then am I an ass-
though belike I was that before. He answereth the description to a
rag- that God should make two such, would be to cheapen miracles, by
wasteful repetition. I would I could contrive an excuse to speak
with him.'
Miles Hendon saved him the trouble; for he turned about, then,
as a man generally will when somebody mesmerizes him by gazing hard at
him from behind; and observing a strong interest in the boy's eyes, he
stepped toward him and said:
'You have just come out from the palace; do you belong there?'
'Yes, your worship.'
'Know you Sir Humphrey Marlow?'
The boy started, and said to himself, 'Lord! mine old departed
father!' Then he answered, aloud, 'Right well, your worship.'
'Good- is he within?'
'Yes,' said the boy; and added, to himself, 'within his grave.'
Might I crave your favor to carry my name to him, and say I beg to
say a word in his ear?'
'I will despatch the business right willingly, fair sir.'
'Then say Miles Hendon, son of Sir Richard, is here without- I
shall be greatly bounden to you, my good lad.'
The boy looked disappointed- 'the king did not name him so,' he
said to himself- 'but it mattereth not, this is his twin brother,
and can give his majesty news of t'other Sir-Odds-and-Ends, I
warrant.' So he said to Miles, 'Step in there a moment, good sir,
and wait till I bring you word.'
Hendon retired to the place indicated- it was a recess sunk in the
palace wall, with a stone bench in it- a shelter for sentinels in
bad weather. He had hardly seated himself when some halberdiers, in
charge of an officer, passed by. The officer saw him, halted his
men, and commanded Hendon to come forth. He obeyed, and was promptly
arrested as a suspicious character prowling within the precincts of
the palace. Things began to look ugly. Poor Miles was going to
explain, but the officer roughly silenced him, and ordered his men
to disarm him and search him.
'God of his mercy grant that they find somewhat,' said poor Miles;
'I have searched enow, and failed, yet is my need greater than
theirs.'
Nothing was found but a document. The officer tore it open, and
Hendon smiled when he recognized the 'pot-hooks' made by his lost
little friend that black day at Hendon Hall. The officer's face grew
dark as he read the English paragraph, and Miles blenched to the
opposite color as he listened.
'Another new claimant of the crown!' cried the officer. 'Verily
they breed like rabbits to-day. Seize the rascal, men, and see ye keep
him fast while I convey this precious paper within and send it to
the king.
He hurried away, leaving the prisoner in the grip of the
halberdiers.
'Now is my evil luck ended at last,' muttered Hendon, 'for I shall
dangle at a rope's end for a certainty, by reason of that bit of
writing. And what will become of my poor lad!- ah, only the good God
knoweth.'
By and by he saw the officer coming again, in a great hurry; so he
plucked his courage together, purposing to meet his trouble as
became a man. The officer ordered the men to loose the prisoner and
return his sword to him; then bowed respectfully, and said:
'Please you, sir, to follow me.'
Hendon followed, saying to himself, 'An I were not travelling to
death and judgment, and so must needs economize in sin, I would
throttle this knave for his mock courtesy.'
The two traversed a populous court, and arrived at the grand
entrance of the palace, where the officer, with another bow, delivered
Hendon into the hands of a gorgeous official, who received him with
profound respect and led him forward through a great hall, lined on
both sides with rows of splendid flunkies (who made reverential
obeisance as the two passed along, but fell into death-throes of
silent laughter at our stately scarecrow the moment his back was
turned), and up a broad staircase, among flocks of fine folk, and
finally conducted him to a vast room, clove a passage for him
through the assembled nobility of England, then made a bow, reminded
him to take his hat off, and left him standing in the middle of the
room, a mark for all eyes, for plenty of indignant frowns, and for a
sufficiency of amused and derisive smiles.
Miles Hendon was entirely bewildered. There sat the young king,
under a canopy of state, five steps away, with his head bent down
and aside, speaking with a sort of human bird of paradise- a duke,
maybe; Hendon observed to himself that it was hard enough to be
sentenced to death in the full vigor of life, without having this
peculiarly public humiliation added. He wished the king would hurry
about it- some of the gaudy people near by were becoming pretty
offensive. At this moment the king raised his head slightly and Hendon
caught a good view of his face. The sight nearly took his breath away!
He stood gazing at the fair young face like one transfixed; then
presently ejaculated:
'Lo, the lord of the Kingdom of Dreams and Shadows on his throne!'
He muttered some broken sentences, still gazing and marveling;
then turned his eyes around and about, scanning the gorgeous throng
and the splendid saloon, murmuring, 'But these are real- verily
these are real- surely it is not a dream.'
He stared at the king again- and thought, 'Is it a dream?... or is
he the veritable sovereign of England, and not the friendless poor Tom
o' Bedlam I took him for- who shall solve me this riddle?'
A sudden idea flashed in his eye, and he strode to the wall,
gathered up a chair, brought it back, planted it on the floor, and sat
down in it!
A buzz of indignation broke out, a rough hand was laid upon him,
and a voice exclaimed:
'Up, thou mannerless clown!- wouldst sit in the presence of the
king?'
The disturbance attracted his majesty's attention, who stretched
forth his hand and cried out:
'Touch him not, it is his right!'
The throng fell back, stupefied. The king went on:
'Learn ye all, ladies, lords and gentlemen, that this is my trusty
and well-beloved servant, Miles Hendon, who interposed his good
sword and saved his prince from bodily harm and possible death- and
for this he is a knight, by the king's voice. Also learn, that for a
higher service, in that he saved his sovereign stripes and shame,
taking these upon himself, he is a peer of England, Earl of Kent,
and shall have gold and lands meet for the dignity. More- the
privilege which he hath just exercised is his by royal grant; for we
have ordained that the chiefs of his line shall have and hold the
right to sit in the presence of the majesty of England henceforth, age
after age, so long as the crown shall endure. Molest him not.'
Two persons, who, through delay, had only arrived from the country
during this morning, and had now been in this room only five
minutes, stood listening to these words and looking at the king,
then at the scarecrow, then at the king again, in a sort of torpid
bewilderment. These were Sir Hugh and the Lady Edith. But the new earl
did not see them. He was still staring at the monarch, in a dazed way,
and muttering:
'Oh, body o' me! This my pauper! This my lunatic! This is he
whom I would show what grandeur was, in my house of seventy rooms
and seven and twenty servants! This is he who had never known aught
but rags for raiment, kicks for comfort, and offal for diet! This is
he whom I adopted and would make respectable! Would God I had a bag to
hide my head in!'
Then his manners suddenly came back to him, and he dropped upon
his knees, with his hands between the king's, and swore allegiance and
did homage for his lands and titles. Then he rose and stood
respectfully aside, a mark still for all eyes- and much envy, too.
Now the king discovered Sir Hugh, and spoke out, with wrathful
voice and kindling eye:
'Strip this robber of his false show and stolen estates, and put
him under lock and key till I have need of him.'
The late Sir Hugh was led away.
There was a stir at the other end of the room now; the
assemblage fell apart, and Tom Canty, quaintly but richly clothed,
marched down, between these living walls, preceded by an usher. He
knelt before the king, who said:
'I have learned the story of these past few weeks, and am well
pleased with thee. Thou hast governed the realm with right royal
gentleness and mercy. Thou hast found thy mother and thy sisters
again? Good; they shall be cared for- and thy father shall hang, if
thou desire it and the law consent. Know, all ye that hear my voice,
that from this day, they that abide in the shelter of Christ's
Hospital and share the king's bounty, shall have their minds and
hearts fed, as well as their baser parts; and this boy shall dwell
there, and hold the chief place in its honorable body of governors,
during life. And for that he hath been a king, it is meet that other
than common observance shall be his due; wherefore, note this his
dress of state, for by it he shall be known, and none shall copy it;
and wheresoever he shall come, it shall remind the people that he hath
been royal, in his time, and none shall deny him his due of
reverence or fail to give him salutation. He hath the throne's
protection, he hath the crown's support, he shall be known and
called by the honorable title of the King's Ward.'
The proud and happy Tom Canty rose and kissed the king's hand, and
was conducted from the presence. He did not waste any time, but flew
to his mother, to tell her and Nan and Bet all about it and get them
to help him enjoy the great news.*(22)
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