without hesitating. He described the rooms of state in the
palace, the late King’s apartments, and those of the Prince of
Wales.
It was strange; it was wonderful; yes, it was unaccountable–so
all said that heard it. The tide was beginning to turn, and Tom
Canty’s hopes to run high, when the Lord Protector shook his head
and said–
“It is true it is most wonderful–but it is no more than our lord
the King likewise can do.” This remark, and this reference to
himself as still the King, saddened Tom Canty, and he felt his
hopes crumbling from under him. “These are not PROOFS,” added the
Protector.
The tide was turning very fast now, very fast indeed–but in the
wrong direction; it was leaving poor Tom Canty stranded on the
throne, and sweeping the other out to sea. The Lord Protector
communed with himself–shook his head–the thought forced itself
upon him, “It is perilous to the State and to us all, to entertain
so fateful a riddle as this; it could divide the nation and
undermine the throne.” He turned and said–
“Sir Thomas, arrest this–No, hold!” His face lighted, and he
confronted the ragged candidate with this question–
“Where lieth the Great Seal? Answer me this truly, and the riddle
is unriddled; for only he that was Prince of Wales CAN so answer!
On so trivial a thing hang a throne and a dynasty!”
It was a lucky thought, a happy thought. That it was so
considered by the great officials was manifested by the silent
applause that shot from eye to eye around their circle in the form
of bright approving glances. Yes, none but the true prince could
dissolve the stubborn mystery of the vanished Great Seal–this
forlorn little impostor had been taught his lesson well, but here
his teachings must fail, for his teacher himself could not answer
THAT question–ah, very good, very good indeed; now we shall be
rid of this troublesome and perilous business in short order! And
so they nodded invisibly and smiled inwardly with satisfaction,
and looked to see this foolish lad stricken with a palsy of guilty
confusion. How surprised they were, then, to see nothing of the
sort happen–how they marvelled to hear him answer up promptly, in
a confident and untroubled voice, and say–
“There is nought in this riddle that is difficult.” Then, without
so much as a by-your-leave to anybody, he turned and gave this
command, with the easy manner of one accustomed to doing such
things: “My Lord St. John, go you to my private cabinet in the
palace–for none knoweth the place better than you–and, close
down to the floor, in the left corner remotest from the door that
opens from the ante-chamber, you shall find in the wall a brazen
nail-head; press upon it and a little jewel-closet will fly open
which not even you do know of–no, nor any sould else in all the
world but me and the trusty artisan that did contrive it for me.
The first thing that falleth under your eye will be the Great
Seal–fetch it hither.”
All the company wondered at this speech, and wondered still more
to see the little mendicant pick out this peer without hesitancy
or apparent fear of mistake, and call him by name with such a
placidly convincing air of having known him all his life. The
peer was almost surprised into obeying. He even made a movement
as if to go, but quickly recovered his tranquil attitude and
confessed his blunder with a blush. Tom Canty turned upon him and
said, sharply–
“Why dost thou hesitate? Hast not heard the King’s command? Go!”
The Lord St. John made a deep obeisance–and it was observed that
it was a significantly cautious and non-committal one, it not
being delivered at either of the kings, but at the neutral ground
about half-way between the two–and took his leave.
Now began a movement of the gorgeous particles of that official
group which was slow, scarcely perceptible, and yet steady and
persistent–a movement such as is observed in a kaleidoscope that
is turned slowly, whereby the components of one splendid cluster
fall away and join themselves to another–a movement which, little