The Prince and the Pauper
down, Jack, and quiet thyself; thou shalt have a morsel to
eat, anon."
Hobbs and Hugo fell to talking together, in low voices, and
the King removed himself as far as he could from their disagreeable
company. He withdrew into the twilight of the farther end of the barn,
where he found the earthen floor bedded a foot deep with straw. He lay
down here, drew straw over himself in lieu of blankets, and was soon absorbed
in thinking. He had many griefs, but the minor ones were swept almost
into forgetfulness by the supreme one, the loss of his father. To the rest
of the world the name of Henry VIII. brought a shiver, and suggested an ogre
whose nostrils breathed destruction and whose hand dealt scourgings and death;
but to this boy the name brought only sensations of pleasure; the figure it
invoked wore a countenance that was all gentleness and affection. He
called to mind a long succession of loving passages between his father and
himself, and dwelt fondly upon them, his unstinted tears attesting how deep and
real was the grief that possessed his heart. As the afternoon wasted away, the
lad, wearied with his troubles, sank gradually into a tranquil and healing
slumber.
After a considerable time—he could not tell how long—his
senses struggled to a half-consciousness, and as he lay with closed eyes
vaguely wondering where he was and what had been happening, he noted a
murmurous sound, the sullen beating of rain upon the roof. A snug sense of
comfort stole over him, which was rudely broken, the next moment, by a chorus
of piping cackles and coarse laughter. It startled him disagreeably, and
he unmuffled his head to see whence this interruption proceeded. A grim
and unsightly picture met his eye. A bright fire was burning in the
middle of the floor, at the other end of the barn; and around it, and lit
weirdly up by the red glare, lolled and sprawled the motliest company of
tattered gutter-scum and ruffians, of both sexes, he had ever read or dreamed
of. There were huge stalwart men, brown with exposure, long-haired, and
clothed in fantastic rags; there were middle-sized youths, of truculent
countenance, and similarly clad; there were blind mendicants, with patched or
bandaged eyes; crippled ones, with wooden legs and crutches; diseased ones,
with running sores peeping from ineffectual wrappings; there was a
villain-looking pedlar with his pack; a knife-grinder, a tinker, and a
barber-surgeon, with the implements of their trades; some of the females were
hardly-grown girls, some were at prime, some were old and wrinkled hags, and
all were loud, brazen, foul-mouthed; and all soiled and slatternly; there were
three sore-faced babies; there were a couple of starveling curs, with strings
about their necks, whose office was to lead the blind.
The night was come, the gang had just finished feasting, an
orgy was beginning; the can of liquor was passing from mouth to mouth. A
general cry broke forth—
"A song! a song from the Bat and Dick and
Dot-and-go-One!"
