A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, Mark Twain [little readers .TXT] 📗
- Author: Mark Twain
Book online «A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, Mark Twain [little readers .TXT] 📗». Author Mark Twain
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’m tired supporting these two for no good. Give me twenty-two dollars for this one, and I’ll throw the other one in.”
The king couldn’t get his breath, he was in such a fury. He began to choke and gag, and meantime the master and the gentleman moved away discussing.
“An ye will keep the offer open—”
“’Tis open till the morrow at this hour.”
“Then I will answer you at that time,” said the gentleman, and disappeared, the master following him.
I had a time of it to cool the king down, but I managed it. I whispered in his ear, to this effect:
“Your grace will go for nothing, but after another fashion. And so shall I. To-night we shall both be free.”
“Ah! How is that?”
“With this thing which I have stolen, I will unlock these locks and cast off these chains to-night. When he comes about nine-thirty to inspect us for the night, we will seize him, gag him, batter him, and early in the morning we will march out of this town, proprietors of this caravan of slaves.”
That was as far as I went, but the king was charmed and satisfied. That evening we waited patiently for our fellow-slaves to get to sleep and signify it by the usual sign, for you must not take many chances on those poor fellows if you can avoid it. It is best to keep your own secrets. No doubt they fidgeted only about as usual, but it didn’t seem so to me. It seemed to me that they were going to be forever getting down to their regular snoring. As the time dragged on I got nervously afraid we shouldn’t have enough of it left for our needs; so I made several premature attempts, and merely delayed things by it; for I couldn’t seem to touch a padlock, there in the dark, without starting a rattle out of it which interrupted somebody’s sleep and made him turn over and wake some more of the gang.
But finally I did get my last iron off, and was a free man once more. I took a good breath of relief, and reached for the king’s irons. Too late! in comes the master, with a light in one hand and his heavy walking-staff in the other. I snuggled close among the wallow of snorers, to conceal as nearly as possible that I was naked of irons; and I kept a sharp lookout and prepared to spring for my man the moment he should bend over me.
But he didn’t approach. He stopped, gazed absently toward our dusky mass a minute, evidently thinking about something else; then set down his light, moved musingly toward the door, and before a body could imagine what he was going to do, he was out of the door and had closed it behind him.
“Quick!” said the king. "Fetch him back!”
Of course, it was the thing to do, and I was up and out in a moment. But, dear me, there were no lamps in those days, and it was a dark night. But I glimpsed a dim figure a few steps away. I darted for it, threw myself upon it, and then there was a state of things and lively! We fought and scuffled and struggled, and drew a crowd in no time. They took an immense interest in the fight and encouraged us all they could, and, in fact, couldn’t have been pleasanter or more cordial if it had been their own fight. Then a tremendous row broke out behind us, and as much as half of our audience left us, with a rush, to invest some sympathy in that. Lanterns began to swing in all directions; it was the watch gathering from far and near. Presently a halberd fell across my back, as a reminder, and I knew what it meant. I was in custody. So was my adversary. We were marched off toward prison, one on each side of the watchman. Here was disaster, here was a fine scheme gone to sudden destruction! I tried to imagine what would happen when the master should discover that it was I who had been fighting him; and what would happen if they jailed us together in the general apartment for brawlers and petty law-breakers, as was the custom; and what might—
Just then my antagonist turned his face around in my direction, the freckled light from the watchman’s tin lantern fell on it, and, by George, he was the wrong man!
AN AWFUL PREDICAMENT
Sleep? It was impossible. It would naturally have been impossible in that noisome cavern of a jail, with its mangy crowd of drunken, quarrelsome, and song-singing rapscallions. But the thing that made sleep all the more a thing not to be dreamed of, was my racking impatience to get out of this place and find out the whole size of what might have happened yonder in the slave-quarters in consequence of that intolerable miscarriage of mine.
It was a long night, but the morning got around at last. I made a full and frank explanation to the court. I said I was a slave, the property of the great Earl Grip, who had arrived just after dark at the Tabard inn in the village on the other side of the water, and had stopped there over night, by compulsion, he being taken deadly sick with a strange and sudden disorder. I had been ordered to cross to the city in all haste and bring the best physician; I was doing my best; naturally I was running with all my might; the night was dark, I ran against this common person here, who seized me by the throat and began to pummel me, although I told him my errand, and implored him, for the sake of the great earl my master’s mortal peril—
The common person interrupted and said it was a lie; and was going to explain how I rushed upon him and attacked him without a word—
“Silence, sirrah!” from the court. "Take him hence and give him a few stripes whereby to teach him how to treat the servant of a nobleman after a different fashion another time. Go!”
Then the court begged my pardon, and hoped I would not fail to tell his lordship it was in no wise the court’s fault that this high-handed thing had happened. I said I would make it all right, and so took my
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