a sight. He made himself so killingly funny that he was the envy
and admiration of the whole mangy rabble.
Tears of shame and indignation stood in the little monarch’s eyes;
and the thought in his heart was, “Had I offered them a deep wrong
they could not be more cruel–yet have I proffered nought but to
do them a kindness–and it is thus they use me for it!”
Chapter XVIII. The Prince with the tramps.
The troop of vagabonds turned out at early dawn, and set forward
on their march. There was a lowering sky overhead, sloppy ground
under foot, and a winter chill in the air. All gaiety was gone
from the company; some were sullen and silent, some were irritable
and petulant, none were gentle-humoured, all were thirsty.
The Ruffler put ‘Jack’ in Hugo’s charge, with some brief
instructions, and commanded John Canty to keep away from him and
let him alone; he also warned Hugo not to be too rough with the
lad.
After a while the weather grew milder, and the clouds lifted
somewhat. The troop ceased to shiver, and their spirits began to
improve. They grew more and more cheerful, and finally began to
chaff each other and insult passengers along the highway. This
showed that they were awaking to an appreciation of life and its
joys once more. The dread in which their sort was held was
apparent in the fact that everybody gave them the road, and took
their ribald insolences meekly, without venturing to talk back.
They snatched linen from the hedges, occasionally in full view of
the owners, who made no protest, but only seemed grateful that
they did not take the hedges, too.
By-and-by they invaded a small farmhouse and made themselves at
home while the trembling farmer and his people swept the larder
clean to furnish a breakfast for them. They chucked the housewife
and her daughters under the chin whilst receiving the food from
their hands, and made coarse jests about them, accompanied with
insulting epithets and bursts of horse-laughter. They threw bones
and vegetables at the farmer and his sons, kept them dodging all
the time, and applauded uproariously when a good hit was made.
They ended by buttering the head of one of the daughters who
resented some of their familiarities. When they took their leave
they threatened to come back and burn the house over the heads of
the family if any report of their doings got to the ears of the
authorities.
About noon, after a long and weary tramp, the gang came to a halt
behind a hedge on the outskirts of a considerable village. An
hour was allowed for rest, then the crew scattered themselves
abroad to enter the village at different points to ply their
various trades–‘Jack’ was sent with Hugo. They wandered hither
and thither for some time, Hugo watching for opportunities to do a
stroke of business, but finding none–so he finally said–
“I see nought to steal; it is a paltry place. Wherefore we will
beg.”
“WE, forsooth! Follow thy trade–it befits thee. But _I_ will
not beg.”
“Thou’lt not beg!” exclaimed Hugo, eyeing the King with surprise.
“Prithee, since when hast thou reformed?”
“What dost thou mean?”
“Mean? Hast thou not begged the streets of London all thy life?”
“I? Thou idiot!”
“Spare thy compliments–thy stock will last the longer. Thy
father says thou hast begged all thy days. Mayhap he lied.
Peradventure you will even make so bold as to SAY he lied,”
scoffed Hugo.
“Him YOU call my father? Yes, he lied.”
“Come, play not thy merry game of madman so far, mate; use it for
thy amusement, not thy hurt. An’ I tell him this, he will scorch
thee finely for it.”
“Save thyself the trouble. I will tell him.”
“I like thy spirit, I do in truth; but I do not admire thy
judgment. Bone-rackings and bastings be plenty enow in this life,
without going out of one’s way to invite them. But a truce to
these matters; _I_ believe your father. I doubt not he can lie; I
doubt not he DOTH lie, upon occasion, for the best of us do that;