Chapter XXVI. Disowned.

by Mark Twain

　　The King sat musing a few moments, then looked up and said--"'Tis strange--most strange. I cannot account for it.""No, it is not strange, my liege. I know him, and this conduct isbut natural. He was a rascal from his birth.""Oh, I spake not of him, Sir Miles.""Not of him? Then of what? What is it that is strange?""That the King is not missed.""How? Which? I doubt I do not understand.""Indeed? Doth it not strike you as being passing strange that theland is not filled with couriers and proclamations describing myperson and making search for me? Is it no matter for commotionand distress that the Head of the State is gone; that I amvanished away and lost?""Most true, my King, I had forgot." Then Hendon sighed, andmuttered to himself, "Poor ruined mind--still busy with itspathetic dream.""But I have a plan that shall right us both--I will write a paper,in three tongues--Latin, Greek and English--and thou shalt hasteaway with it to London in the morning. Give it to none but myuncle, the Lord Hertford; when he shall see it, he will know andsay I wrote it. Then he will send for me.""Might it not be best, my Prince, that we wait here until I provemyself and make my rights secure to my domains? I should be somuch the better able then to--"The King interrupted him imperiously--"Peace! What are thy paltry domains, thy trivial interests,contrasted with matters which concern the weal of a nation and theintegrity of a throne?" Then, he added, in a gentle voice, as ifhe were sorry for his severity, "Obey, and have no fear; I willright thee, I will make thee whole--yes, more than whole. I shallremember, and requite."So saying, he took the pen, and set himself to work. Hendoncontemplated him lovingly a while, then said to himself--"An' it were dark, I should think it was a king that spoke;there's no denying it, when the humour's upon on him he doththunder and lighten like your true King; now where got he thattrick? See him scribble and scratch away contentedly at hismeaningless pot-hooks, fancying them to be Latin and Greek--andexcept my wit shall serve me with a lucky device for diverting himfrom his purpose, I shall be forced to pretend to post away to-morrow on this wild errand he hath invented for me."The next moment Sir Miles's thoughts had gone back to the recentepisode. So absorbed was he in his musings, that when the Kingpresently handed him the paper which he had been writing, hereceived it and pocketed it without being conscious of the act."How marvellous strange she acted," he muttered. "I think sheknew me--and I think she did not know me. These opinions doconflict, I perceive it plainly; I cannot reconcile them, neithercan I, by argument, dismiss either of the two, or even persuadeone to outweigh the other. The matter standeth simply thus: shemust have known my face, my figure, my voice, for how could it beotherwise? Yet she said she knew me not, and that is proofperfect, for she cannot lie. But stop--I think I begin to see.Peradventure he hath influenced her, commanded her, compelled herto lie. That is the solution. The riddle is unriddled. Sheseemed dead with fear--yes, she was under his compulsion. I willseek her; I will find her; now that he is away, she will speak hertrue mind. She will remember the old times when we were littleplayfellows together, and this will soften her heart, and she willno more betray me, but will confess me. There is no treacherousblood in her--no, she was always honest and true. She has lovedme, in those old days--this is my security; for whom one hasloved, one cannot betray."He stepped eagerly toward the door; at that moment it opened, andthe Lady Edith entered. She was very pale, but she walked with afirm step, and her carriage was full of grace and gentle dignity.Her face was as sad as before.Miles sprang forward, with a happy confidence, to meet her, butshe checked him with a hardly perceptible gesture, and he stoppedwhere he was. She seated herself, and asked him to do likewise.Thus simply did she take the sense of old comradeship out of him,and transform him into a stranger and a guest. The surprise ofit, the bewildering unexpectedness of it, made him begin toquestion, for a moment, if he was the person he was pretending tobe, after all. The Lady Edith said--"Sir, I have come to warn you. The mad cannot be persuaded out oftheir delusions, perchance; but doubtless they may be persuaded toavoid perils. I think this dream of yours hath the seeming ofhonest truth to you, and therefore is not criminal--but do nottarry here with it; for here it is dangerous." She lookedsteadily into Miles's face a moment, then added, impressively, "Itis the more dangerous for that you are much like what our lost ladmust have grown to be if he had lived.""Heavens, madam, but I am he!""I truly think you think it, sir. I question not your honesty inthat; I but warn you, that is all. My husband is master in thisregion; his power hath hardly any limit; the people prosper orstarve, as he wills. If you resembled not the man whom youprofess to be, my husband might bid you pleasure yourself withyour dream in peace; but trust me, I know him well; I know what hewill do; he will say to all that you are but a mad impostor, andstraightway all will echo him." She bent upon Miles that samesteady look once more, and added: "If you were Miles Hendon, andhe knew it and all the region knew it--consider what I am saying,weigh it well--you would stand in the same peril, your punishmentwould be no less sure; he would deny you and denounce you, andnone would be bold enough to give you countenance.""Most truly I believe it," said Miles, bitterly. "The power thatcan command one life-long friend to betray and disown another, andbe obeyed, may well look to be obeyed in quarters where bread andlife are on the stake and no cobweb ties of loyalty and honour areconcerned."A faint tinge appeared for a moment in the lady's cheek, and shedropped her eyes to the floor; but her voice betrayed no emotionwhen she proceeded--"I have warned you--I must still warn you--to go hence. This manwill destroy you, else. He is a tyrant who knows no pity. I, whoam his fettered slave, know this. Poor Miles, and Arthur, and mydear guardian, Sir Richard, are free of him, and at rest: betterthat you were with them than that you bide here in the clutches ofthis miscreant. Your pretensions are a menace to his title andpossessions; you have assaulted him in his own house: you areruined if you stay. Go--do not hesitate. If you lack money, takethis purse, I beg of you, and bribe the servants to let you pass.Oh, be warned, poor soul, and escape while you may."Miles declined the purse with a gesture, and rose up and stoodbefore her."Grant me one thing," he said. "Let your eyes rest upon mine, sothat I may see if they be steady. There--now answer me. Am IMiles Hendon?""No. I know you not.""Swear it!"The answer was low, but distinct--"I swear.""Oh, this passes belief!""Fly! Why will you waste the precious time? Fly, and saveyourself."At that moment the officers burst into the room, and a violentstruggle began; but Hendon was soon overpowered and dragged away.The King was taken also, and both were bound and led to prison.