The Prince and the Pauper, Mark Twain [best memoirs of all time .txt] 📗

low buzz of admiration swept through the assemblage. It was not admiration of the decree that had been delivered by Tom, for the propriety or expediency of pardoning a convicted poisoner was a thing which few there would have felt justified in either admitting or admiring⁠—no, the admiration was for the intelligence and spirit which Tom had displayed. Some of the low-voiced remarks were to this effect⁠—

“This is no mad king⁠—he hath his wits sound.”

“How sanely he put his questions⁠—how like his former natural self was this abrupt imperious disposal of the matter!”

“God be thanked, his infirmity is spent! This is no weakling, but a king. He hath borne himself like to his own father.”

The air being filled with applause, Tom’s ear necessarily caught a little of it. The effect which this had upon him was to put him greatly at his ease, and also to charge his system with very gratifying sensations.

However, his juvenile curiosity soon rose superior to these pleasant thoughts and feelings; he was eager to know what sort of deadly mischief the woman and the little girl could have been about; so, by his command, the two terrified and sobbing creatures were brought before him.

“What is it that these have done?” he inquired of the sheriff.

“Please your Majesty, a black crime is charged upon them, and clearly proven; wherefore the judges have decreed, according to the law, that they be hanged. They sold themselves to the devil⁠—such is their crime.”

Tom shuddered. He had been taught to abhor people who did this wicked thing. Still, he was not going to deny himself the pleasure of feeding his curiosity for all that; so he asked⁠—

“Where was this done?⁠—and when?”

“On a midnight in December, in a ruined church, your Majesty.”

Tom shuddered again.

“Who was there present?”

“Only these two, your grace⁠—and that other.”

“Have these confessed?”

“Nay, not so, sire⁠—they do deny it.”

“Then prithee, how was it known?”

“Certain witness did see them wending thither, good your Majesty; this bred the suspicion, and dire effects have since confirmed and justified it. In particular, it is in evidence that through the wicked power so obtained, they did invoke and bring about a storm that wasted all the region round about. Above forty witnesses have proved the storm; and sooth one might have had a thousand, for all had reason to remember it, sith all had suffered by it.”

“Certes this is a serious matter.” Tom turned this dark piece of scoundrelism over in his mind a while, then asked⁠—

“Suffered the woman also by the storm?”

Several old heads among the assemblage nodded their recognition of the wisdom of this question. The sheriff, however, saw nothing consequential in the inquiry; he answered, with simple directness⁠—

“Indeed did she, your Majesty, and most righteously, as all aver. Her habitation was swept away, and herself and child left shelterless.”

“Methinks the power to do herself so ill a turn was dearly bought. She had been cheated, had she paid but a farthing for it; that she paid her soul, and her child’s, argueth that she is mad; if she is mad she knoweth not what she doth, therefore sinneth not.”

The elderly heads nodded recognition of Tom’s wisdom once more, and one individual murmured, “An’ the king be mad himself, according to report, then is it a madness of a sort that would improve the sanity of some I wot of, if by the gentle providence of God they could but catch it.”

“What age hath the child?” asked Tom.

“Nine years, please your Majesty.”

“By the law of England may a child enter into covenant and sell itself, my lord?” asked Tom, turning to a learned judge.

“The law doth not permit a child to make or meddle in any weighty matter, good my liege, holding that its callow wit unfitteth it to cope with the riper wit and evil schemings of them that are its elders. The devil may buy a child, if he so choose, and the child agree thereto, but not an Englishman⁠—in this latter case the contract would be null and void.”

“It seemeth a rude unchristian thing, and ill contrived, that English law denieth privileges to Englishmen to waste them on the devil!” cried Tom, with honest heat.

This novel view of the matter excited many smiles, and was stored away in many heads to be repeated about the Court as evidence of Tom’s originality as well as progress toward mental health.

The elder culprit had ceased from sobbing, and was hanging upon Tom’s words with an excited interest and a growing hope. Tom noticed this, and it strongly inclined his sympathies toward her in her perilous and unfriended situation. Presently he asked⁠—

“How wrought they to bring the storm?”

“By pulling off their stockings, sire.”

This astonished Tom, and also fired his curiosity to fever heat. He said, eagerly⁠—

“It is wonderful! Hath it always this dread effect?”

“Always, my liege⁠—at least if the woman desire it, and utter the needful words, either in her mind or with her tongue.”

Tom turned to the woman, and said with impetuous zeal⁠—

“Exert thy power⁠—I would see a storm!”

There was a sudden paling of cheeks in the superstitious assemblage, and a general, though unexpressed, desire to get out of the place⁠—all of which was lost upon Tom, who was dead to everything but the proposed cataclysm. Seeing a puzzled and astonished look in the woman’s face, he added, excitedly⁠—

“Never fear⁠—thou shalt be blameless. More⁠—thou shalt go free⁠—none shall touch thee. Exert thy power.”

“Oh, my lord the king, I have it not⁠—I have been falsely accused.”

“Thy fears stay thee. Be of good heart, thou shalt suffer no harm. Make a storm⁠—it mattereth not how small a one⁠—I require nought great or harmful, but indeed prefer the opposite⁠—do this and thy life is spared⁠—thou shalt go out free, with thy child, bearing the king’s pardon, and safe from hurt or malice from any in the realm.”

The woman prostrated herself, and protested, with tears, that she had no power to do the miracle, else she would gladly win her child’s life alone, and be content