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

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 prisoners entered it through a massive archway of masonry, and were placed in file, standing, with their backs against the wall. A rope was stretched in front of them, and they were also guarded by their officers. It was a chill and lowering morning, and a light snow which had fallen during the night whitened the great empty space and added to the general dismalness of its aspect. Now and then a wintry wind shivered through the place and sent the snow eddying hither and thither.

In the centre of the court stood two women, chained to posts. A glance showed the king that these were his good friends. He shuddered, and said to himself, “Alack, they are not gone free, as I had thought. To think that such as these should know the lash!⁠—in England! Ay, there’s the shame of it⁠—not in Heathennesse, Christian England! They will be scourged; and I, whom they have comforted and kindly entreated, must look on and see the great wrong done; it is strange, so strange, that I, the very source of power in this broad realm, am helpless to protect them. But let these miscreants look well to themselves, for there is a day coming when I will require of them a heavy reckoning for this work. For every blow they strike now, they shall feel a hundred then.”

A great gate swung open, and a crowd of citizens poured in. They flocked around the two women, and hid them from the king’s view. A clergyman entered and passed through the crowd, and he also was hidden. The king now heard talking, back and forth, as if questions were being asked and answered, but he could not make out what was said. Next there was a deal of bustle and preparation, and much passing and repassing of officials through that part of the crowd that stood on the further side of the women; and whilst this proceeded a deep hush gradually fell upon the people.

Now, by command, the masses parted and fell aside, and the king saw a spectacle that froze the marrow in his bones. Faggots had been piled about the two women, and a kneeling man was lighting them!

The women bowed their heads, and covered their faces with their hands; the yellow flames began to climb upward among the snapping and crackling faggots, and wreaths of blue smoke to stream away on the wind; the clergyman lifted his hands and began a prayer⁠—just then two young girls came flying through the great gate, uttering piercing screams, and threw themselves upon the women at the stake. Instantly they were torn away by the officers, and one of them was kept in a tight grip, but the other broke loose, saying she would die with her mother; and before she could be stopped she had flung her arms about her mother’s neck again. She was torn away once more, and with