[begin page 223]

The Ⓐalteration in the MS high hedge hid him from the house, now; and so, under the impulse of a deadly fright, he let out all his forces and sped toward a wood in the distance. He never looked back until he had almost gained the shelter of the forest; then he turned and descried two figures in the distance. That was sufficient; he did not wait to scan them critically, but hurried on, and never abated his pace till he was far within the twilight depths of the wood. Then he stopped; being persuadedⒶalteration in the MS that he was now tolerably safe.Ⓐalteration in the MS He listened intently, but the stillness was profound and solemn—awful,Ⓐalteration in the MS even, and depressing to the spirits. At wide intervals his straining ear did detect sounds, but they were so remote, and hollow, and mysterious,Ⓐalteration in the MS that they seemed not to be realⒶalteration in the MS sounds, but onlyⒶalteration in the MS the moaning and complaining ghosts of departed ones.Ⓐalteration in the MS So the sounds were yet more dreary than the silence which they interrupted.

It was his purpose, in the beginning, to stay where he was,Ⓐalteration in the MS the rest of the day; but a chill soon invaded his perspiring body, and he was at last obliged to resumeⒶalteration in the MS movement in order to get warm. He struck straight through the forest, hoping to pierce to a roadⒶalteration in the MS presently, but he was disappointed in this. He traveled on and on; but the furtherⒶhistorical collation he went, the denser the wood became, apparently. The gloom began to thicken, by and by, and the king realized that the night was coming on. It made him shudder to think of spending it in such an uncanny place; so he [begin page 224] tried to hurry faster, but he only made the less speed, for he could not now see well enough to choose his steps judiciously; consequently he kept tripping overⒶalteration in the MS roots and tangling himself in vines and briers.

And how glad he was when at last he caught the glimmer of a light! He approached it warily, stopping often to look about him and listen. It came from an unglazed window-opening in a shabby little hut. He heard a voice, now, and

felt a disposition to run and hide; but he changed his mind at once, for this voice was praying, evidently. He glided to the one window of the hut, raised himself on tiptoe, and stole a glance within. The room was small;Ⓐalteration in the MS its floor was the natural earth, beaten hard by use; in a corner was a bed of rushes and a ragged blanket or two; near it was a pail, a cup, a basin, and two or three pots and pans; there was a short bench and a three-legged stool; on the hearth the remains of a faggot fire were smouldering; before a shrine, which was lighted by a single candle, knelt an aged man, and on an old wooden box at his side, lay an open book and a human skull. The man was of large, bony frame; his hair and whiskers were very long and snowy white; he was clothed in a robe of sheepskinsⒶemendation which reached from his neck to his heels.

[begin page 225]

“A holy hermit!” said the king to himself; “now am I indeed fortunate.”

The hermit rose from his knees; the king knocked. A deep voice responded—

“Enter!—but leave sin behind, for the ground whereon thou shalt stand is holy!”

The king entered, and paused. The hermit turned a pair of gleaming, unrestful eyes upon him, and said—

“Who art thou?”

“I am the king,” came the answer, with placid simplicity.

“Welcome, king!” cried the hermit, with enthusiasm. Then, bustling about with feverish activity, and constantly saying “welcome, welcome,” he arranged his bench, seated the king on it, by the hearth, threw some faggots on the fire, and finally fell to pacing the floor, with a nervous stride.

“Welcome! Many have sought sanctuary here, but they were not [begin page 226] worthy, and were turned away. But a king who casts his crown away, and despises the vain splendors of his office, and clothes his body in rags, to devote his life to holiness and the mortification of the flesh—he is worthy, he is welcome!—Here shall he abide all his days till death comeⒶalteration in the MS.” The king hastened to interrupt and explain, but the hermit paid no attention to him—did not even hear him, apparently, but went right onⒶhistorical collation Ⓐemendation with his talk, with a raised voice and a growing energy. “And thou shalt be at peace here. None shall find out thy refuge to disquiet thee with supplications to return to that empty and foolish life which God hath moved thee to abandon. Thou shalt pray, here; thou shalt study the Book; thou shalt meditate upon the follies and delusions of this world, and upon the sublimities of the world to come; thou shalt feed upon crusts and herbs, and scourge thy body with whips, daily, to the purifying of thy soul. Thou shalt wear a hair shirt next thy skin; thou shalt drink water, only; and thouⒶalteration in the MS shalt be at peace; yes, wholly at peace; for whoso comes to seek thee shall go his way again, baffled; he shall not find thee, he shall not molestⒶalteration in the MS thee.”

The old man, still pacing back and forth, ceased to speak aloud, and began to mutter. The king seizedⒶemendation this opportunity to state his case; and he did it with an eloquence inspired by uneasiness and apprehension. But the hermit went on muttering, and gave no heed. And still muttering, he approached the king and said, impressively—

“’Sh!Ⓐalteration in the MS I will tell you a secret!”Ⓐalteration in the MS He bent down to impart it, but checked himself, and assumed a listening attitude. After a moment or two he went on tiptoe to the window-opening, put his head out and peered around in the gloaming, then came tiptoeing back again, put his face close down to the king’s, and whispered—

“I am an archangel!”

The king started violently, and said to himself, “Would God I were with the outlaws again; for lo, now am I the prisoner of a madman!” His apprehensions were heightened, and they showed plainly in his face. In a low, excited voice, the hermit continued—

“I see you feel my atmosphere! There’s awe in your face! None may be in this atmosphere and not be thus affected; for it is the very atmosphere of heaven. I go thither and return, in the twinkling of an eye. I was made an archangel on this very spot, it is five years ago, by angels sent from heaven to confer that awful dignity.Ⓐalteration in the MS Their presence filled this place with an intolerable brightness. And they knelt to me, [begin page 227] king! yes, they knelt to me! for I was greater than they. I have walked in the courts of heaven, and held speech with the patriarchs. Touch my hand—be notⒶalteration in the MS afraid—touch it. There—now thou hast touched a hand which has been clasped by Abraham, and Isaac and Jacob! For I have walkedⒶalteration in the MS in the golden courts, I have seen the Deity face to face!”

He paused, to give this speech effect; then his face suddenly changed, and he started to his feet again, saying, with angry energy,Ⓐalteration in the MS “Yes, I am an archangel; a mere archangel!—I that might have been Pope! It is verily true. I was told it from heaven in a dream, twenty years ago; ah, yes,Ⓐalteration in the MS I was to be Pope!—and IⒶalteration in the MS should have been Pope, for heavenⒶemendation had said it—but the king dissolved my religious house, and I, poor obscure unfriended monk, was cast homeless upon the world, robbed of my mighty destiny!” Here he began to mumble again, and beat his fore-
[begin page 228] head in futile rage, with his fist; now and then articulating a venomous curse, and now and then a pathetic “Wherefore I am naught but an archangel—I that should have been PopeⒶemendation!”

So he went on, for an hour, whilst the poor little king sat and suffered. Then all at once the old man’s frenzy departed, and he became all gentleness. His voice softened, he came down out ofⒶalteration in the MS his clouds, and fell to prattling along so simply and so humanly, that he soon won the king’s heart completely. The old devotee moved the boy nearer to the fire and made him comfortable; doctored his small bruises and abrasions with a deft and tender hand; and then set about preparing and cooking a supper—chatting pleasantly all the time, and occasionally stroking the lad’s cheek or patting his head, in such a gently caressing way that in a little while all the fear and repulsion inspired by the archangel were changed to reverence and affection for the man.

[begin page 229]

This happy state of things continued while the two ate the supper; then, after a prayer before the shrine, the hermit put the boy to bed, in a small adjoining room,Ⓐalteration in the MS tucking him in as snugly and lovingly as a mother might;Ⓐalteration in the MS and so, with a parting caress, left him and sat down by the fire, and began to poke the brands about in an absent and aimless way. Presently he paused; thenⒶalteration in the MS tapped his forehead several times with his fingers,Ⓐalteration in the MS as if trying to recal some thought which had escaped from his mind. Apparently he was unsuccessful. Now he started quickly up, and entered his guest’s room,Ⓐalteration in the MS and said—

“Thou art king?”

“Yes,” was the response, drowsily uttered.

“What king?”

“Of England.”

“Of England! Then Henry is gone!”

“Alack, it is so. I am his son.”

A black frown settled down upon the hermit’s face, and he clenched his bony hands with a vindictive energy. He stood a few moments, breathing fast and swallowing repeatedly, then said in a husky voice—

“Dost know it was heⒶemendation that turned us out into the world houseless and homeless?”

There was no response. The old man bent down and scanned the boy’s reposeful face and listened to his placid breathing. “He sleeps—sleeps soundly;” and the frownⒶalteration in the MS vanished away and gave place to an expression of evil satisfaction. AⒶalteration in the MS smile flitted across the dreaming boy’s features. The hermit muttered, “So—his heart is happy;” and he turnedⒶalteration in the MS away. He went stealthily about the place, seeking here and there for something; now and then halting to listen, now and then jerking his head around and casting a quick glance towardⒶalteration in the MS the bed; and always muttering, always mumbling to himself. At last he found what he seemed to want—a rusty old butcher knife and a whetstone. Then he crept to his place by the fire, sat himself down, and began to whet the knife softly on the stone, still muttering, mumbling, ejaculating. The winds sighed around the lonely place, the mysterious voices of the night floated by out of the distances, the shining eyes of venturesome mice and rats peeredⒶalteration in the MS out at the old man from cracks and coverts, but he went on with his work, rapt, absorbed, and noted none of these things.

At long intervals he drew his thumb along the edge of his knife, and [begin page 230] nodded his head with satisfaction. “It grows sharper,” he said; “yes, it grows sharper.”

He took no note of the flight of time, but worked tranquilly on, entertaining himself with his thoughts, which broke out occasionally in articulate speech:

“His father wrought us evil, he destroyed us—and is gone down into the eternal fires! Yes,

down into the eternal |fires! He escaped us—but it was God’s will, yes it was God’s will, we must not repine. But he hath not escaped the fires! no, he hath not escaped the fires, the consuming, unpitying, remorseless fires—and they are everlasting!”

And so he wrought; and still wrought; mumbling—chuckling a lowⒶalteration in the MS rasping chuckle, at times—and at times breaking again into words:

“It was his father that did it all. I am but an archangelⒶemendation—but for him, I should be Pope!”

The king stirred. The hermit sprang noiselesslyⒶalteration in the MS to the bedsideⒶemendation, and went down upon his knees, bending over the prostrate formⒶalteration in the MS with his [begin page 231] knife uplifted. The boy stirred again; his eyes came open for an instant, but there was no speculation in them, they saw nothing; the next moment his tranquil breathing showed that his sleep was sound once more.

The hermit watched and listened, for a time, keeping his position and scarcely breathing; then he slowly lowered his arm, and presently crept away, saying,—

“It is long past midnightⒶemendation—it is not best that he should cry out, lest by accident some oneⒶalteration in the MS be passing.”

He glided about his hovel, gathering a rag here, a thong there, and another one yonder; then he returned, and by careful and gentle handling, he managed to tie the king’s ankles together without waking him. Next he essayed to tie the wrists; he made several attempts to cross them, but the boy always drew one hand or the other away, just as the cord was ready to be applied; but at last, when the archangel was almost ready to despair, the boy crossed his hands himself, and the next moment they were bound. Now a bandage was passed under the sleeper’sⒶalteration in the MS chin and brought up over his head and tied fast—and so softly, so gradually, and so deftly were the knots drawn together and compacted,Ⓐalteration in the MS that the boy slept peacefully through it all without stirring.

[begin page 232]

[blank verso]