His Majesty started violently. “The KING!” he cried. “WHAT king,
good sir?”
“What king, indeed! (God-a-mercy, what aileth the boy?) Sith we
have but one, ’tis not difficult to answer–his most sacred
Majesty King Edward the Sixth–whom God preserve! Yea, and a dear
and gracious little urchin is he, too; and whether he be mad or
no–and they say he mendeth daily–his praises are on all men’s
lips; and all bless him, likewise, and offer prayers that he may
be spared to reign long in England; for he began humanely with
saving the old Duke of Norfolk’s life, and now is he bent on
destroying the cruellest of the laws that harry and oppress the
people.”
This news struck his Majesty dumb with amazement, and plunged him
into so deep and dismal a reverie that he heard no more of the old
man’s gossip. He wondered if the ‘little urchin’ was the beggar-
boy whom he left dressed in his own garments in the palace. It
did not seem possible that this could be, for surely his manners
and speech would betray him if he pretended to be the Prince of
Wales–then he would be driven out, and search made for the true
prince. Could it be that the Court had set up some sprig of the
nobility in his place? No, for his uncle would not allow that–he
was all-powerful and could and would crush such a movement, of
course. The boy’s musings profited him nothing; the more he tried
to unriddle the mystery the more perplexed he became, the more his
head ached, and the worse he slept. His impatience to get to
London grew hourly, and his captivity became almost unendurable.
Hendon’s arts all failed with the King–he could not be comforted;
but a couple of women who were chained near him succeeded better.
Under their gentle ministrations he found peace and learned a
degree of patience. He was very grateful, and came to love them
dearly and to delight in the sweet and soothing influence of their
presence. He asked them why they were in prison, and when they
said they were Baptists, he smiled, and inquired–
“Is that a crime to be shut up for in a prison? Now I grieve, for
I shall lose ye–they will not keep ye long for such a little
thing.”
They did not answer; and something in their faces made him uneasy.
He said, eagerly–
“You do not speak; be good to me, and tell me–there will be no
other punishment? Prithee tell me there is no fear of that.”
They tried to change the topic, but his fears were aroused, and he
pursued it–
“Will they scourge thee? No, no, they would not be so cruel! Say
they would not. Come, they WILL not, will they?”
The women betrayed confusion and distress, but there was no
avoiding an answer, so one of them said, in a voice choked with
emotion–
“Oh, thou’lt break our hearts, thou gentle spirit!–God will help
us to bear our–”
“It is a confession!” the King broke in. “Then they WILL scourge
thee, the stony-hearted wretches! But oh, thou must not weep, I
cannot bear it. Keep up thy courage–I shall come to my own in
time to save thee from this bitter thing, and I will do it!”
When the King awoke in the morning, the women were gone.
“They are saved!” he said, joyfully; then added, despondently,
“but woe is me!–for they were my comforters.”
Each of them had left a shred of ribbon pinned to his clothing, in
token of remembrance. He said he would keep these things always;
and that soon he would seek out these dear good friends of his and
take them under his protection.
Just then the jailer came in with some subordinates, and commanded
that the prisoners be conducted to the jail-yard. The King was
overjoyed–it would be a blessed thing to see the blue sky and
breathe the fresh air once more. He fretted and chafed at the
slowness of the officers, but his turn came at last, and he was
released from his staple and ordered to follow the other prisoners
with Hendon.
The court or quadrangle was stone-paved, and open to the sky. The