Bab Bab 24 · The Escape.

. The Escape.

The short winter day was nearly ended.  The streets were deserted, save

for a few random stragglers, and these hurried straight along, with the

intent look of people who were only anxious to accomplish their errands

as quickly as possible, and then snugly house themselves from the rising

wind and the gathering twilight. They looked neither to the right nor to

the left; they paid no attention to our party, they did not even seem

to see them. Edward the Sixth wondered if the spectacle of a king on his

way to jail had ever encountered such marvellous indifference before.

By-and-by the constable arrived at a deserted market-square, and

proceeded to cross it.  When he had reached the middle of it, Hendon

laid his hand upon his arm, and said in a low voice--

“Bide a moment, good sir, there is none in hearing, and I would say a

word to thee.”

“My duty forbids it, sir; prithee hinder me not, the night comes on.”

“Stay, nevertheless, for the matter concerns thee nearly.  Turn thy back

a moment and seem not to see:  _let this poor lad escape_.”

“This to me, sir!  I arrest thee in--”

“Nay, be not too hasty.  See thou be careful and commit no foolish

error,”--then he shut his voice down to a whisper, and said in the man’s

ear--“the pig thou hast purchased for eightpence may cost thee thy neck,

man!”

The poor constable, taken by surprise, was speechless, at first, then

found his tongue and fell to blustering and threatening; but Hendon

was tranquil, and waited with patience till his breath was spent; then

said--

“I have a liking to thee, friend, and would not willingly see thee

come to harm.  Observe, I heard it all--every word.  I will prove it to

thee.” Then he repeated the conversation which the officer and the woman

had had together in the hall, word for word, and ended with--

“There--have I set it forth correctly?  Should not I be able to set it

forth correctly before the judge, if occasion required?”

The man was dumb with fear and distress, for a moment; then he rallied,

and said with forced lightness--

“‘Tis making a mighty matter, indeed, out of a jest; I but plagued the

woman for mine amusement.”

“Kept you the woman’s pig for amusement?”

The man answered sharply--

“Nought else, good sir--I tell thee ’twas but a jest.”

“I do begin to believe thee,” said Hendon, with a perplexing mixture of

mockery and half-conviction in his tone; “but tarry thou here a

moment whilst I run and ask his worship--for nathless, he being a man

experienced in law, in jests, in--”

He was moving away, still talking; the constable hesitated, fidgeted,

spat out an oath or two, then cried out--

“Hold, hold, good sir--prithee wait a little--the judge!  Why, man, he

hath no more sympathy with a jest than hath a dead corpse!--come, and we

will speak further.  Ods body!  I seem to be in evil case--and all for

an innocent and thoughtless pleasantry. I am a man of family; and my

wife and little ones--List to reason, good your worship: what wouldst

thou of me?”

“Only that thou be blind and dumb and paralytic whilst one may count a

hundred thousand--counting slowly,” said Hendon, with the expression of

a man who asks but a reasonable favour, and that a very little one.

“It is my destruction!” said the constable despairingly. “Ah, be

reasonable, good sir; only look at this matter, on all its sides, and

see how mere a jest it is--how manifestly and how plainly it is so.  And

even if one granted it were not a jest, it is a fault so small that

e’en the grimmest penalty it could call forth would be but a rebuke and

warning from the judge’s lips.”

Hendon replied with a solemnity which chilled the air about him--

“This jest of thine hath a name, in law,--wot you what it is?”

“I knew it not!  Peradventure I have been unwise.  I never dreamed it

had a name--ah, sweet heaven, I thought it was original.”

“Yes, it hath a name.  In the law this crime is called Non compos mentis

lex talionis sic transit gloria mundi.”

“Ah, my God!”

“And the penalty is death!”

“God be merciful to me a sinner!”

“By advantage taken of one in fault, in dire peril, and at thy mercy,

thou hast seized goods worth above thirteenpence ha’penny, paying but

a trifle for the same; and this, in the eye of the law, is constructive

barratry, misprision of treason, malfeasance in office, ad hominem

expurgatis in statu quo--and the penalty is death by the halter, without

ransom, commutation, or benefit of clergy.”

“Bear me up, bear me up, sweet sir, my legs do fail me!  Be thou

merciful--spare me this doom, and I will turn my back and see nought

that shall happen.”

“Good! now thou’rt wise and reasonable.  And thou’lt restore the pig?”

“I will, I will indeed--nor ever touch another, though heaven send it

and an archangel fetch it.  Go--I am blind for thy sake--I see nothing.

I will say thou didst break in and wrest the prisoner from my hands by

force.  It is but a crazy, ancient door--I will batter it down myself

betwixt midnight and the morning.”

“Do it, good soul, no harm will come of it; the judge hath a loving

charity for this poor lad, and will shed no tears and break no jailer’s

bones for his escape.”