The Prince and the Pauper by Jane E. Gerver

Author:Jane E. Gerver [Twain, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-80020-6
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2011-09-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Foo-foo the First

Three days before Tom’s public dinner, Miles Hendon hurried along London Bridge. He was searching for the youth who had taken Edward from the inn.

But Miles had no luck. He could not find them—or John Canty—anywhere. He decided to stick to his original plan and head to Hendon Hall. He was sure that Edward, if he could, would go there to seek Miles.

Meanwhile, the youth rushed Edward along, telling him that Miles lay wounded in a forest. John Canty followed behind, unseen by Edward.

“Miles wounded? Who dared to do that? Lead me there!” ordered Edward.

The youth took Edward to a deserted and decaying barn in the woods.

Miles was not there. But a fellow who Edward realized had been following them appeared. He wore a green eye patch and walked with a cane. One arm was in a sling.

“Who are you?” Edward asked him.

“My disguise is good,” said the ruffian. “But surely you can tell I am your father—John Canty!”

“You are not my father,” insisted Edward. “I am the king.”

“It is plain you are mad,” John Canty said sternly. “Where are your mother and sisters? Do you know where they went?”

“Don’t ask me such questions,” said the king angrily. “My mother is dead. My sisters are in the palace.”

The youth who had led Edward to the barn laughed. “Peace, Hugo,” John Canty said to him. “The boy’s mind is wandering. But I need his service.”

Canty and Hugo started talking softly to each other. Edward went to the far end of the barn. There he lay down on a thick pile of straw. He was exhausted and missed his real father terribly. He soon fell asleep.

The sound of coarse laughter woke him. A bright fire burned on the floor at the other end of the barn. Around the fire sat tattered tramps and thieves, both men and women.

Edward listened to their rough talk. It turned out that John Canty used to be part of this group. Their chief was known as the Ruffler, and he greeted Canty warmly. The Ruffler told him what the group had been doing lately.

Some of the men took off their rags. They showed Canty the welts on their backs from beatings. Another man was missing an ear.

Edward listened to their ghastly tales from his straw bed. One man had been killed in a brawl. A woman had a gift for telling fortunes, but she was called a witch for it and roasted alive! Others lost their homes when their farms were turned into sheep ranges.

“I was once a farmer but fell on hard times. I was sold as a slave,” one man said bitterly. “I ran away. But if my master finds me, I shall be hung! It is the law of the land.”

“You shall not!” rang out a voice. “That law has ended as of this day!”

The tramps turned and saw Edward. “Who is this?” they asked in surprise.

“I am Edward, king of England.”

The tramps laughed. Edward was angry. Why weren’t they grateful?

“He is my son, a dreamer and a mad fool!” said Canty.

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