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Hendon, suppressing a horse-laugh, and saying to himself, "By all
the saints, but this is admirable!" stepped briskly forward and
did the small insolent's bidding; then stood by, in a sort of
stupefaction, until the command, "Come--the towel!" woke him
sharply up. He took up a towel, from under the boy's nose, and
handed it to him without comment. He now proceeded to comfort his
own face with a wash, and while he was at it his adopted child
seated himself at the table and prepared to fall to. Hendon
despatched his ablutions with alacrity, then drew back the other
chair and was about to place himself at table, when the boy said,
indignantly--
"Forbear! Wouldst sit in the presence of the King?"
This blow staggered Hendon to his foundations. He muttered to
himself, "Lo, the poor thing's madness is up with the time! It
hath changed with the great change that is come to the realm, and
now in fancy is he KING! Good lack, I must humour the conceit,
too--there is no other way--faith, he would order me to the Tower,
else!"
And pleased with this jest, he removed the chair from the table,
took his stand behind the King, and proceeded to wait upon him in
the courtliest way he was capable of.
While the King ate, the rigour of his royal dignity relaxed a
little, and with his growing contentment came a desire to talk.
He said--"I think thou callest thyself Miles Hendon, if I heard
thee aright?"
"Yes, Sire," Miles replied; then observed to himself, "If I MUST
humour the poor lad's madness, I must 'Sire' him, I must 'Majesty'
him, I must not go by halves, I must stick at nothing that
belongeth to the part I play, else shall I play it ill and work
evil to this charitable and kindly cause."
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