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“He MUST be the prince! Can any one be so much like him? No, no! If he were an impostor he would call himself prince. What impostor would call himself a pauper? NO! This is the true prince, gone mad!”

Later in the afternoon, Tom went through the ordeal of being dressed for dinner. He wore fine clothes, but everything different, everything changed. He was sitting in a spacious room, where a table was already set for one. Its furniture was all of gold, with beautiful designs. The room was half-filled with noble servers. Tom’s cupbearer was present, and stopped all his attempts to help himself to wine. The Taster was there as well, prepared to taste any suspicious dish upon requirement, and run the risk [10] of being poisoned. These days, he was there more out of tradition, and was almost never called upon; but there had been times, not that many generations ago, when the office of taster lost some members. Why they did not use a dog or a plumber seems strange; but all the ways of royalty are strange. The Lord Chief Butler was there, and stood behind Tom’s chair, overseeing the service, under command of the Lord Great Steward and the Lord Head Cook, who stood near. Tom had three hundred and eighty-four servants beside these; but they were not all in that room, neither was Tom aware yet that they existed.

All the courtiers had been trained to remember that the prince was now out of his head, and to show no surprise at his unusual behaviour. Poor Tom ate with his fingers; but no one smiled at it, or even seemed to observe it. Tom examined his food and asked what it was. His question was answered with respect, and no surprise was shown. When he had finished his dessert, he filled his pockets with nuts; but nobody seemed to be shocked by it.

When his meal ended, a lord came and held before him a golden dish with rosewater in it, to wash his mouth and fingers with. Tom looked at the dish a moment or two, then raised it to his lips, and drank. Then he returned it to the lord, and said—

“No, I do not like it, my lord.”

This new eccentricity of the prince made everyone sad. Tom was taken to his apartment. As he was examining the prince’s armour, he suddenly remembered the nuts he had brought from dinner, and he thought what joy it would be to eat them with no crowd to see him. And soon he was eating nuts, feeling almost happy for the first time since God had made him a prince. When the nuts were all eaten, he found some books, among them one about the etiquette of the English court. He lay down on a divan, and read it with pleasure.

About five o’clock Henry VIII woke up and muttered to himself, “Troublous dreams, troublous dreams! My end is near.” Then a wicked light flamed up in his eye, and he muttered,

“Yet I will not die before him.”

His servants saw that he was awake, and one of them asked to bring in Lord Chancellor, who was waiting outside.

“Do it!” exclaimed the King eagerly.

The Lord Chancellor entered, and knelt by the King’s couch, saying—

“I have given order, and we waiting for your majesty’s further decision in the matter.”

The King’s face lit up with a fierce joy. He said—

“Lift me up! I will go before my Parliament, and seal the warrant that rids me of—”

His voice failed and the color dissapeared from his cheeks; the attendants lowered him back on his pillows. Sorrowfully, he said—

“How have I longed for this hour! And now it’s too late. But go, go! Let others do this. I put my Great Seal in commission: choose the lords that shall compose it and get to work. Go! Before the sun shall rise and set again, bring me the Duke of Norfolk’s head.”

“According to the King’s command, so shall it be. Will it please your majesty to order that the Seal be restored to me, so that I may proceed with the business?”

“The Seal? Who has the Seal, other than you?”

“Please your majesty, you did take it from me two days ago.”

“Why, I did: I do remember… What did I do with it?.. I am very feeble… It’s strange, strange… the Great Seal is in the hands of his highness the Prince of Wales! Fetch it!”

Lord Hertford went to Tom, but returned soon, empty-handed. He said—

“It saddens me, my lord the King, to bear bad news; but the prince’s illness prevents him from remembering the Seal.”

The King groaned—

“Trouble him no more, poor child.”

He closed his eyes, and became silent. After a time he opened his eyes again, and looked vacantly around until his saw kneeling Lord Chancellor. Instantly he became angry—

“You’re still here! By the glory of God, get on with that traitor’s business or I shall have your head!”

The trembling Chancellor answered—

“Your Majesty, I ask for mercy! I was waiting for the Seal.”

“Man, have you lost your mind? The small Seal lies in my treasury. And, since the Great Seal can’t be found, is it not enough? Begone! And don’t come back until you bring his head.”

The poor Chancellor went away to appoint the beheading of the luckless Duke of Norfolk for tomorrow.

At nine in the evening Tom and two little ladies were received with due ceremony by the Lord Mayor and the Fathers of the City at Guildhall, and conducted to a great table. The lords and ladies who were to attend on Tom and his two friends took their places behind their chairs. At a lower table the Court nobles sat, with the magnates of the city.

Tom (as he was instructed) rose—and everyone rose with him—and drank from a big golden cup with Princess Elizabeth; from her it passed to Lady Jane, and then to all in the hall. So the banquet began. The guests were entertained by actors, singers, and dancers.

Suddenly, the sound of the bugle broke into the noise of the banquet. There was silence, and everybody heard the voice of a messenger from the palace. He read a proclamation, and the closing words were—

“The King is dead!”

Poor Tom looked around him. A sudden purpose dawned in his face. He said, in a low tone, to Lord Hertford’s—

“Answer me truly, on your faith and honour! If I were to say a command, would you obey it? Would none rise up to say no?”

“None. You are now the king—your word is the law.”

Tom responded, in a strong voice—

“Then shall the king’s law be law of mercy from this day, and never more be law of blood! The King decrees the Duke of Norfolk shall not die!”

The words were carried eagerly from lip to lip far and over the hall, and then changed to new words:

“The reign of blood is ended! Long live Edward, King of England!”

We left John Canty dragging the prince into Offal Court. The Prince continued to struggle for freedom, until John Canty raised his stick in a sudden fury over the Prince’s head. A man ran up to them and tried to stop the man’s arm, and the blow fell on his head: there was a groan, and the man fell.

Presently the Prince found himself in John Canty’s room. Two ragged girls and a woman sat near the wall in one corner. From another corner came an old woman with malignant eyes. John Canty said to her—