by Mark Twain
CHAPTER XXI. Hendon to the rescue.
The old man glided away, stooping, stealthy, cat-like, and brought thelow bench. ?He seated himself upon it, half his body in the dim andflickering light, and the other half in shadow; and so, with his cravingeyes bent upon the slumbering boy, he kept his patient vigil there,heedless of the drift of time, and softly whetted his knife, and mumbledand chuckled; and in aspect and attitude he resembled nothing so much asa grizzly, monstrous spider, gloating over some hapless insect that laybound and helpless in his web.
After a long while, the old man, who was still gazing,--yet not seeing,his mind having settled into a dreamy abstraction,--observed, on asudden, that the boy's eyes were open! wide open and staring!--staringup in frozen horror at the knife. ?The smile of a gratified devil creptover the old man's face, and he said, without changing his attitude orhis occupation--
"Son of Henry the Eighth, hast thou prayed?"
The boy struggled helplessly in his bonds, and at the same time forceda smothered sound through his closed jaws, which the hermit chose tointerpret as an affirmative answer to his question.
"Then pray again. ?Pray the prayer for the dying!"
A shudder shook the boy's frame, and his face blenched. ?Then hestruggled again to free himself--turning and twisting himself this wayand that; tugging frantically, fiercely, desperately--but uselessly--toburst his fetters; and all the while the old ogre smiled down upon him,and nodded his head, and placidly whetted his knife; mumbling, from timeto time, "The moments are precious, they are few and precious--pray theprayer for the dying!"
The boy uttered a despairing groan, and ceased from his struggles,panting. ?The tears came, then, and trickled, one after the other, downhis face; but this piteous sight wrought no softening effect upon thesavage old man.
The dawn was coming now; the hermit observed it, and spoke up sharply,with a touch of nervous apprehension in his voice--
"I may not indulge this ecstasy longer! ?The night is already gone. ?Itseems but a moment--only a moment; would it had endured a year! ?Seed ofthe Church's spoiler, close thy perishing eyes, an' thou fearest to lookupon--"
The rest was lost in inarticulate mutterings. ?The old man sank upon hisknees, his knife in his hand, and bent himself over the moaning boy.
Hark! ?There was a sound of voices near the cabin--the knife droppedfrom the hermit's hand; he cast a sheepskin over the boy and started up,trembling. ?The sounds increased, and presently the voices became roughand angry; then came blows, and cries for help; then a clatter of swiftfootsteps, retreating. ?Immediately came a succession of thunderingknocks upon the cabin door, followed by--
"Hullo-o-o! ?Open! ?And despatch, in the name of all the devils!"
Oh, this was the blessedest sound that had ever made music in the King'sears; for it was Miles Hendon's voice!
The hermit, grinding his teeth in impotent rage, moved swiftly out ofthe bedchamber, closing the door behind him; and straightway the Kingheard a talk, to this effect, proceeding from the 'chapel':--
"Homage and greeting, reverend sir! ?Where is the boy--_my_ boy?"
"What boy, friend?"
"What boy! ?Lie me no lies, sir priest, play me no deceptions!--I am notin the humour for it. ?Near to this place I caught the scoundrels who Ijudged did steal him from me, and I made them confess; they said he wasat large again, and they had tracked him to your door. ?They showed mehis very footprints. ?Now palter no more; for look you, holy sir, an'thou produce him not--Where is the boy?"
"O good sir, peradventure you mean the ragged regal vagrant that tarriedhere the night. ?If such as you take an interest in such as he, know,then, that I have sent him of an errand. ?He will be back anon."
"How soon? ?How soon? ?Come, waste not the time--cannot I overtake him?How soon will he be back?"
"Thou need'st not stir; he will return quickly."
"So be it, then. ?I will try to wait. ?But stop!--_you_ sent him of anerrand?--you! ?Verily this is a lie--he would not go. ?He would pull thyold beard, an' thou didst offer him such an insolence. Thou hast lied,friend; thou hast surely lied! ?He would not go for thee, nor for anyman."
"For any _man_--no; haply not. ?But I am not a man."
"_What_! ?Now o' God's name what art thou, then?"
"It is a secret--mark thou reveal it not. ?I am an archangel!"
There was a tremendous ejaculation from Miles Hendon--not altogetherunprofane--followed by--
"This doth well and truly account for his complaisance! ?Right wellI knew he would budge nor hand nor foot in the menial service of anymortal; but, lord, even a king must obey when an archangel gives theword o' command! ?Let me--'sh! ?What noise was that?"
All this while the little King had been yonder, alternately quaking withterror and trembling with hope; and all the while, too, he had thrownall the strength he could into his anguished moanings, constantlyexpecting them to reach Hendon's ear, but always realising, withbitterness, that they failed, or at least made no impression. ?So thislast remark of his servant came as comes a reviving breath from freshfields to the dying; and he exerted himself once more, and with all hisenergy, just as the hermit was saying--
"Noise? ?I heard only the wind."
"Mayhap it was. ?Yes, doubtless that was it. ?I have been hearing itfaintly all the--there it is again! ?It is not the wind! ?What an oddsound! ?Come, we will hunt it out!"
Now the King's joy was nearly insupportable. ?His tired lungs didtheir utmost--and hopefully, too--but the sealed jaws and the mufflingsheepskin sadly crippled the effort. ?Then the poor fellow's heart sank,to hear the hermit say--
"Ah, it came from without--I think from the copse yonder. ?Come, I willlead the way."
The King heard the two pass out, talking; heard their footsteps diequickly away--then he was alone with a boding, brooding, awful silence.
It seemed an age till he heard the steps and voices approachingagain--and this time he heard an added sound,--the trampling of hoofs,apparently. ?Then he heard Hendon say--
"I will not wait longer. ?I _cannot_ wait longer. ?He has lost his wayin this thick wood. ?Which direction took he? ?Quick--point it out tome."
"He--but wait; I will go with thee."
"Good--good! ?Why, truly thou art better than thy looks. ?Marry I donot think there's not another archangel with so right a heart as thine.?Wilt ride? ?Wilt take the wee donkey that's for my boy, or wilt thoufork thy holy legs over this ill-conditioned slave of a mule that I haveprovided for myself?--and had been cheated in too, had he cost but theindifferent sum of a month's usury on a brass farthing let to a tinkerout of work."
"No--ride thy mule, and lead thine ass; I am surer on mine own feet, andwill walk."
"Then prithee mind the little beast for me while I take my life in myhands and make what success I may toward mounting the big one."
Then followed a confusion of kicks, cuffs, tramplings and plungings,accompanied by a thunderous intermingling of volleyed curses, andfinally a bitter apostrophe to the mule, which must have broken itsspirit, for hostilities seemed to cease from that moment.
With unutterable misery the fettered little King heard the voices andfootsteps fade away and die out. ?All hope forsook him, now, for themoment, and a dull despair settled down upon his heart. "My only friendis deceived and got rid of," he said; "the hermit will return and--" ?Hefinished with a gasp; and at once fell to struggling so frantically withhis bonds again, that he shook off the smothering sheepskin.
And now he heard the door open! ?The sound chilled him to themarrow--already he seemed to feel the knife at his throat. ?Horror madehim close his eyes; horror made him open them again--and before himstood John Canty and Hugo!
He would have said "Thank God!" if his jaws had been free.
A moment or two later his limbs were at liberty, and his captors, eachgripping him by an arm, were hurrying him with all speed through theforest.