substance; and before he knew it he had blurted out the command–
“Bring them here!”
Then he blushed scarlet, and a sort of apology sprung to his lips;
but observing that his order had wrought no sort of surprise in
the Earl or the waiting page, he suppressed the words he was about
to utter. The page, in the most matter-of-course way, made a
profound obeisance and retired backwards out of the room to
deliver the command. Tom experienced a glow of pride and a
renewed sense of the compensating advantages of the kingly office.
He said to himself, “Truly it is like what I was used to feel when
I read the old priest’s tales, and did imagine mine own self a
prince, giving law and command to all, saying ‘Do this, do that,’
whilst none durst offer let or hindrance to my will.”
Now the doors swung open; one high-sounding title after another
was announced, the personages owning them followed, and the place
was quickly half-filled with noble folk and finery. But Tom was
hardly conscious of the presence of these people, so wrought up
was he and so intensely absorbed in that other and more
interesting matter. He seated himself absently in his chair of
state, and turned his eyes upon the door with manifestations of
impatient expectancy; seeing which, the company forbore to trouble
him, and fell to chatting a mixture of public business and court
gossip one with another.
In a little while the measured tread of military men was heard
approaching, and the culprits entered the presence in charge of an
under-sheriff and escorted by a detail of the king’s guard. The
civil officer knelt before Tom, then stood aside; the three doomed
persons knelt, also, and remained so; the guard took position
behind Tom’s chair. Tom scanned the prisoners curiously.
Something about the dress or appearance of the man had stirred a
vague memory in him. “Methinks I have seen this man ere now . . .
but the when or the where fail me”–such was Tom’s thought. Just
then the man glanced quickly up and quickly dropped his face
again, not being able to endure the awful port of sovereignty; but
the one full glimpse of the face which Tom got was sufficient. He
said to himself: “Now is the matter clear; this is the stranger
that plucked Giles Witt out of the Thames, and saved his life,
that windy, bitter, first day of the New Year–a brave good deed–
pity he hath been doing baser ones and got himself in this sad
case . . . I have not forgot the day, neither the hour; by reason
that an hour after, upon the stroke of eleven, I did get a hiding
by the hand of Gammer Canty which was of so goodly and admired
severity that all that went before or followed after it were but
fondlings and caresses by comparison.”
Tom now ordered that the woman and the girl be removed from the
presence for a little time; then addressed himself to the under-
sheriff, saying–
“Good sir, what is this man’s offence?”
The officer knelt, and answered–
“So please your Majesty, he hath taken the life of a subject by
poison.”
Tom’s compassion for the prisoner, and admiration of him as the
daring rescuer of a drowning boy, experienced a most damaging
shock.
“The thing was proven upon him?” he asked.
“Most clearly, sire.”
Tom sighed, and said–
“Take him away–he hath earned his death. ‘Tis a pity, for he was
a brave heart–na–na, I mean he hath the LOOK of it!”
The prisoner clasped his hands together with sudden energy, and
wrung them despairingly, at the same time appealing imploringly to
the ‘King’ in broken and terrified phrases–
“O my lord the King, an’ thou canst pity the lost, have pity upon
me! I am innocent–neither hath that wherewith I am charged been
more than but lamely proved–yet I speak not of that; the judgment
is gone forth against me and may not suffer alteration; yet in
mine extremity I beg a boon, for my doom is more than I can bear.
A grace, a grace, my lord the King! in thy royal compassion grant