Chapter XXXIII. Edward as King.

by Mark Twain

　　Miles Hendon was picturesque enough before he got into the riot onLondon Bridge--he was more so when he got out of it. He had butlittle money when he got in, none at all when he got out. Thepickpockets had stripped him of his last farthing.But no matter, so he found his boy. Being a soldier, he did notgo at his task in a random way, but set to work, first of all, toarrange 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 andforsaken, as well as of sound ones. Whereabouts were his formerhaunts? His rags, taken together with the low villain who seemedto know him and who even claimed to be his father, indicated thathis home was in one or another of the poorest and meanestdistricts of London. Would the search for him be difficult, orlong? No, it was likely to be easy and brief. He would not huntfor the boy, he would hunt for a crowd; in the centre of a bigcrowd or a little one, sooner or later, he should find his poorlittle friend, sure; and the mangy mob would be entertainingitself with pestering and aggravating the boy, who would beproclaiming himself King, as usual. Then Miles Hendon wouldcripple some of those people, and carry off his little ward, andcomfort and cheer him with loving words, and the two would neverbe separated any more.So Miles started on his quest. Hour after hour he tramped throughback alleys and squalid streets, seeking groups and crowds, andfinding no end of them, but never any sign of the boy. Thisgreatly surprised him, but did not discourage him. To his notion,there was nothing the matter with his plan of campaign; the onlymiscalculation about it was that the campaign was becoming alengthy one, whereas he had expected it to be short.When daylight arrived, at last, he had made many a mile, andcanvassed many a crowd, but the only result was that he wastolerably tired, rather hungry and very sleepy. He wanted somebreakfast, but there was no way to get it. To beg for it did notoccur to him; as to pawning his sword, he would as soon havethought of parting with his honour; he could spare some of hisclothes--yes, but one could as easily find a customer for adisease as for such clothes.At noon he was still tramping--among the rabble which followedafter the royal procession, now; for he argued that this regaldisplay would attract his little lunatic powerfully. He followedthe pageant through all its devious windings about London, and allthe way to Westminster and the Abbey. He drifted here and thereamongst the multitudes that were massed in the vicinity for aweary long time, baffled and perplexed, and finally wandered off,thinking, and trying to contrive some way to better his plan ofcampaign. By-and-by, when he came to himself out of his musings,he discovered that the town was far behind him and that the daywas growing old. He was near the river, and in the country; itwas a region of fine rural seats--not the sort of district towelcome clothes like his.It was not at all cold; so he stretched himself on the ground inthe lee of a hedge to rest and think. Drowsiness presently beganto settle upon his senses; the faint and far-off boom of cannonwas wafted to his ear, and he said to himself, "The new King iscrowned," and straightway fell asleep. He had not slept orrested, before, for more than thirty hours. He did not wake againuntil near the middle of the next morning.He got up, lame, stiff, and half famished, washed himself in theriver, stayed his stomach with a pint or two of water, and trudgedoff toward Westminster, grumbling at himself for having wasted somuch time. Hunger helped him to a new plan, now; he would try toget speech with old Sir Humphrey Marlow and borrow a few marks,and--but that was enough of a plan for the present; it would betime enough to enlarge it when this first stage should beaccomplished.Toward eleven o'clock he approached the palace; and although ahost of showy people were about him, moving in the same direction,he was not inconspicuous--his costume took care of that. Hewatched these people's faces narrowly, hoping to find a charitableone whose possessor might be willing to carry his name to the oldlieutenant--as to trying to get into the palace himself, that wassimply out of the question.Presently our whipping-boy passed him, then wheeled about andscanned his figure well, saying to himself, "An' that is not thevery vagabond his Majesty is in such a worry about, then am I anass--though belike I was that before. He answereth thedescription to a rag--that God should make two such would be tocheapen miracles by wasteful repetition. I would I could contrivean excuse to speak with him."Miles Hendon saved him the trouble; for he turned about, then, asa man generally will when somebody mesmerises him by gazing hardat him from behind; and observing a strong interest in the boy'seyes, 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 departedfather!" 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 favour to carry my name to him, and say I begto 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--Ishall be greatly bounden to you, my good lad."The boy looked disappointed. "The King did not name him so," hesaid to himself; "but it mattereth not, this is his twin brother,and can give his Majesty news of t'other Sir-Odds-and-Ends, Iwarrant." 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 thepalace wall, with a stone bench in it--a shelter for sentinels inbad weather. He had hardly seated himself when some halberdiers,in charge of an officer, passed by. The officer saw him, haltedhis men, and commanded Hendon to come forth. He obeyed, and waspromptly arrested as a suspicious character prowling within theprecincts of the palace. Things began to look ugly. Poor Mileswas going to explain, but the officer roughly silenced him, andordered 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 thantheirs."Nothing was found but a document. The officer tore it open, andHendon smiled when he recognised the 'pot-hooks' made by his lostlittle friend that black day at Hendon Hall. The officer's facegrew dark as he read the English paragraph, and Miles blenched tothe opposite colour as he listened."Another new claimant of the Crown!" cried the officer. "Verilythey breed like rabbits, to-day. Seize the rascal, men, and seeye keep him fast whilst I convey this precious paper within andsend it to the King."He hurried away, leaving the prisoner in the grip of thehalberdiers."Now is my evil luck ended at last," muttered Hendon, "for I shalldangle at a rope's end for a certainty, by reason of that bit ofwriting. And what will become of my poor lad!--ah, only the goodGod knoweth."By-and-by he saw the officer coming again, in a great hurry; so heplucked his courage together, purposing to meet his trouble asbecame a man. The officer ordered the men to loose the prisonerand 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 todeath and judgment, and so must needs economise in sin, I wouldthrottle this knave for his mock courtesy."The two traversed a populous court, and arrived at the grandentrance of the palace, where the officer, with another bow,delivered Hendon into the hands of a gorgeous official, whoreceived him with profound respect and led him forward through agreat hall, lined on both sides with rows of splendid flunkeys(who made reverential obeisance as the two passed along, but fellinto death-throes of silent laughter at our stately scarecrow themoment his back was turned), and up a broad staircase, amongflocks of fine folk, and finally conducted him into 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 himstanding in the middle of the room, a mark for all eyes, forplenty of indignant frowns, and for a sufficiency of amused andderisive smiles.Miles Hendon was entirely bewildered. There sat the young King,under a canopy of state, five steps away, with his head bent downand aside, speaking with a sort of human bird of paradise--a duke,maybe. Hendon observed to himself that it was hard enough to besentenced to death in the full vigour of life, without having thispeculiarly public humiliation added. He wished the King wouldhurry about it--some of the gaudy people near by were becomingpretty offensive. At this moment the King raised his headslightly, and Hendon caught a good view of his face. The sightnearly took his breath away!--He stood gazing at the fair youngface 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 marvelling;then turned his eyes around and about, scanning the gorgeousthrong 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 . . . oris he the veritable Sovereign of England, and not the friendlesspoor Tom o' Bedlam I took him for--who shall solve me thisriddle?"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, andsat down in it!A buzz of indignation broke out, a rough hand was laid upon himand a voice exclaimed--"Up, thou mannerless clown! would'st sit in the presence of theKing?"The disturbance attracted his Majesty's attention, who stretchedforth 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 mytrusty and well-beloved servant, Miles Hendon, who interposed hisgood sword and saved his prince from bodily harm and possibledeath--and for this he is a knight, by the King's voice. Alsolearn, that for a higher service, in that he saved his sovereignstripes and shame, taking these upon himself, he is a peer ofEngland, Earl of Kent, and shall have gold and lands meet for thedignity. More--the privilege which he hath just exercised is hisby royal grant; for we have ordained that the chiefs of his lineshall have and hold the right to sit in the presence of theMajesty of England henceforth, age after age, so long as the crownshall endure. Molest him not."Two persons, who, through delay, had only arrived from the countryduring this morning, and had now been in this room only fiveminutes, stood listening to these words and looking at the King,then at the scarecrow, then at the King again, in a sort of torpidbewilderment. These were Sir Hugh and the Lady Edith. But thenew 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 hewhom I would show what grandeur was, in my house of seventyrooms and seven-and-twenty servants! This is he who had neverknown aught but rags for raiment, kicks for comfort, and offal fordiet! 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 uponhis knees, with his hands between the King's, and swore allegianceand did homage for his lands and titles. Then he rose and stoodrespectfully aside, a mark still for all eyes--and much envy, too.Now the King discovered Sir Hugh, and spoke out with wrathfulvoice and kindling eye--"Strip this robber of his false show and stolen estates, and puthim 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 assemblagefell apart, and Tom Canty, quaintly but richly clothed, marcheddown, between these living walls, preceded by an usher. He kneltbefore the King, who said--"I have learned the story of these past few weeks, and am wellpleased with thee. Thou hast governed the realm with right royalgentleness and mercy. Thou hast found thy mother and thy sistersagain? Good; they shall be cared for--and thy father shall hang,if thou desire it and the law consent. Know, all ye that hear myvoice, that from this day, they that abide in the shelter ofChrist's Hospital and share the King's bounty shall have theirminds and hearts fed, as well as their baser parts; and this boyshall dwell there, and hold the chief place in its honourable bodyof governors, during life. And for that he hath been a king, itis meet that other than common observance shall be his due;wherefore note this his dress of state, for by it he shall beknown, and none shall copy it; and wheresoever he shall come, itshall remind the people that he hath been royal, in his time, andnone shall deny him his due of reverence or fail to give himsalutation. He hath the throne's protection, he hath the crown'ssupport, he shall be known and called by the honourable title ofthe King's Ward."The proud and happy Tom Canty rose and kissed the King's hand, andwas conducted from the presence. He did not waste any time, butflew to his mother, to tell her and Nan and Bet all about it andget them to help him enjoy the great news. {1}