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"
The
Lady
Jane
Grey
.
"
The
door
closed
and
a
sweet
young
girl
,
richly
clad
,
bounded
toward
him
.
But
she
stopped
suddenly
,
and
said
in
a
distressed
voice
--
"
Oh
,
what
aileth
thee
,
my
lord
?
"
Tom
's
breath
was
nearly
failing
him
;
but
he
made
shift
to
stammer
out
--
"
Ah
,
be
merciful
,
thou
!
In
sooth
I
am
no
lord
,
but
only
poor
Tom
Canty
of
Offal
Court
in
the
city
.
Prithee
let
me
see
the
prince
,
and
he
will
of
his
grace
restore
to
me
my
rags
,
and
let
me
hence
unhurt
.
Oh
,
be
thou
merciful
,
and
save
me
!
"
By
this
time
the
boy
was
on
his
knees
,
and
supplicating
with
his
eyes
and
uplifted
hands
as
well
as
with
his
tongue
.
The
young
girl
seemed
horror-stricken
.
She
cried
out
--
"
O
my
lord
,
on
thy
knees
?
--
and
to
me
!
"
Then
she
fled
away
in
fright
;
and
Tom
,
smitten
with
despair
,
sank
down
,
murmuring
--
"
There
is
no
help
,
there
is
no
hope
.
Now
will
they
come
and
take
me
.
"
Whilst
he
lay
there
benumbed
with
terror
,
dreadful
tidings
were
speeding
through
the
palace
.
The
whisper
--
for
it
was
whispered
always
--
flew
from
menial
to
menial
,
from
lord
to
lady
,
down
all
the
long
corridors
,
from
story
to
story
,
from
saloon
to
saloon
,
"
The
prince
hath
gone
mad
,
the
prince
hath
gone
mad
!
"
Soon
every
saloon
,
every
marble
hall
,
had
its
groups
of
glittering
lords
and
ladies
,
and
other
groups
of
dazzling
lesser
folk
,
talking
earnestly
together
in
whispers
,
and
every
face
had
in
it
dismay
.
Presently
a
splendid
official
came
marching
by
these
groups
,
making
solemn
proclamation
--
