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- Марк Твен
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- Стр. 142/153
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A
mob
does
not
melt
away
from
the
presence
of
a
plague-patient
with
more
haste
than
the
band
of
pallid
and
terrified
courtiers
melted
away
from
the
presence
of
the
shabby
little
claimant
of
the
Crown
.
In
a
moment
he
stood
all
alone
,
without
friend
or
supporter
,
a
target
upon
which
was
concentrated
a
bitter
fire
of
scornful
and
angry
looks
.
The
Lord
Protector
called
out
fiercely
--
"
Cast
the
beggar
into
the
street
,
and
scourge
him
through
the
town
--
the
paltry
knave
is
worth
no
more
consideration
!
"
Officers
of
the
guard
sprang
forward
to
obey
,
but
Tom
Canty
waved
them
off
and
said
--
"
Back
!
Whoso
touches
him
perils
his
life
!
"
The
Lord
Protector
was
perplexed
in
the
last
degree
.
He
said
to
the
Lord
St.
John
--
"
Searched
you
well
?
--
but
it
boots
not
to
ask
that
.
It
doth
seem
passing
strange
.
Little
things
,
trifles
,
slip
out
of
one
's
ken
,
and
one
does
not
think
it
matter
for
surprise
;
but
how
so
bulky
a
thing
as
the
Seal
of
England
can
vanish
away
and
no
man
be
able
to
get
track
of
it
again
--
a
massy
golden
disk
--
"
Tom
Canty
,
with
beaming
eyes
,
sprang
forward
and
shouted
--
"
Hold
,
that
is
enough
!
Was
it
round
?
--
and
thick
?
--
and
had
it
letters
and
devices
graved
upon
it
?
--
yes
?
Oh
,
now
I
know
what
this
Great
Seal
is
that
there
's
been
such
worry
and
pother
about
.
An
'
ye
had
described
it
to
me
,
ye
could
have
had
it
three
weeks
ago
.
Right
well
I
know
where
it
lies
;
but
it
was
not
I
that
put
it
there
--
first
.
"
"
Who
,
then
,
my
liege
?
"
asked
the
Lord
Protector
.
