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His
doublet
and
trunks
were
of
rich
material
,
but
faded
and
threadbare
,
and
their
gold-lace
adornments
were
sadly
tarnished
;
his
ruff
was
rumpled
and
damaged
;
the
plume
in
his
slouched
hat
was
broken
and
had
a
bedraggled
and
disreputable
look
;
at
his
side
he
wore
a
long
rapier
in
a
rusty
iron
sheath
;
his
swaggering
carriage
marked
him
at
once
as
a
ruffler
of
the
camp
.
The
speech
of
this
fantastic
figure
was
received
with
an
explosion
of
jeers
and
laughter
.
Some
cried
,
"
'
Tis
another
prince
in
disguise
!
"
"
'
Ware
thy
tongue
,
friend
:
belike
he
is
dangerous
!
"
"
Marry
,
he
looketh
it
--
mark
his
eye
!
"
"
Pluck
the
lad
from
him
--
to
the
horse-pond
wi
'
the
cub
!
"
Instantly
a
hand
was
laid
upon
the
Prince
,
under
the
impulse
of
this
happy
thought
;
as
instantly
the
stranger
's
long
sword
was
out
and
the
meddler
went
to
the
earth
under
a
sounding
thump
with
the
flat
of
it
.
The
next
moment
a
score
of
voices
shouted
,
"
Kill
the
dog
!
Kill
him
!
Kill
him
!
"
and
the
mob
closed
in
on
the
warrior
,
who
backed
himself
against
a
wall
and
began
to
lay
about
him
with
his
long
weapon
like
a
madman
.
His
victims
sprawled
this
way
and
that
,
but
the
mob-tide
poured
over
their
prostrate
forms
and
dashed
itself
against
the
champion
with
undiminished
fury
.
His
moments
seemed
numbered
,
his
destruction
certain
,
when
suddenly
a
trumpet-blast
sounded
,
a
voice
shouted
,
"
Way
for
the
King
's
messenger
!
"
and
a
troop
of
horsemen
came
charging
down
upon
the
mob
,
who
fled
out
of
harm
's
reach
as
fast
as
their
legs
could
carry
them
.
The
bold
stranger
caught
up
the
Prince
in
his
arms
,
and
was
soon
far
away
from
danger
and
the
multitude
.
Return
we
within
the
Guildhall
.
Suddenly
,
high
above
the
jubilant
roar
and
thunder
of
the
revel
,
broke
the
clear
peal
of
a
bugle-note
.
There
was
instant
silence
--
a
deep
hush
;
then
a
single
voice
rose
--
that
of
the
messenger
from
the
palace
--
and
began
to
pipe
forth
a
proclamation
,
the
whole
multitude
standing
listening
.
The
closing
words
,
solemnly
pronounced
,
were
--
"
The
King
is
dead
!
"
The
great
assemblage
bent
their
heads
upon
their
breasts
with
one
accord
;
remained
so
,
in
profound
silence
,
a
few
moments
;
then
all
sank
upon
their
knees
in
a
body
,
stretched
out
their
hands
toward
Tom
,
and
a
mighty
shout
burst
forth
that
seemed
to
shake
the
building
--
"
Long
live
the
King
!
"
Poor
Tom
's
dazed
eyes
wandered
abroad
over
this
stupefying
spectacle
,
and
finally
rested
dreamily
upon
the
kneeling
princesses
beside
him
,
a
moment
,
then
upon
the
Earl
of
Hertford
.
A
sudden
purpose
dawned
in
his
face
.
He
said
,
in
a
low
tone
,
at
Lord
Hertford
's
ear
--