It was a great day when the King entered the town. All the streets were gay with bunting and coloured poles. Great arches had been set up, with pictures painted on them. From almost every window hung garlands of flowers and silken scarves. And all the people were dressed in their best clothes.
The royal party, greeted in the market-place by the Mayor and all the notables of the city, was made up of many persons, many horses and many coaches. It was a big, long procession—so long that when the head of it had reached the market-place the tail of it was still stretching away off into the country outside the town.
Anne, watching it come in, wondered how all those people and horses and baggage were going to find room within the Duke’s castle; while Giles fell to dreaming over what it must be like to be a king. For he could not take his eyes off that young man on the beautiful white horse, who kept rising in his stirrups and, with smiling face and waving hand, answered the roar of welcome that came from the people. Giles had never known the town held so many men, women and children. There seemed to be seas of faces wherever you looked. The streets were full of faces—the windows and the doors were crowded with faces—even the roofs of many houses were covered with people who had risked their necks to get places to see the King.
Giles, when he had heard the roar in the distance as the King’s party had first come in sight, had felt a sudden sinking of the heart. What a mad plan it seemed, for a mere townsboy to hope to reach the ruler of the land, one so great and so important! But now, when he could see the King’s face, his courage came back to him. He joined in the waving and the shouting of welcome. For the young King’s face was not only very handsome, but it was a very honest face and kind—the sort of face you trusted from the first glimpse. Very different it was from the face of the Duke, his cousin, who rode beside him. That, too, was handsome but harder and prouder—and many, many years older.
For those on the crowded pavements, especially for shorter folk like Giles and Anne, it was almost impossible to tell what was going on. The noise and crush were most confusing. But presently they saw that the King and all the mounted gentlemen of his party had come to a standstill and that the Mayor was making a speech. It was all about how glad everybody was to see His Majesty the King and how proud the town felt on this great day when he had come to pay it his first visit.
Presently, after the Mayor had ended and some more speeches had been made, the royal procession moved out of the market-place and disappeared slowly through the gates of the castle. But it was not till quite a little later that the crowd began to break up. And even then Giles and Anne had hard work to make their way homewards through the press of slowly moving, tight-packed people.
The merry-making and celebrations in the streets went on late into the night. But even without that noise Giles, for one, would have found it hard to sleep. For it had been agreed between him and Luke that tomorrow should be the day for him to try to see the King. He had not forgotten the lame boy’s warning that if he failed in his first try he would most likely never get another chance—and, quite possibly, find himself in prison instead. And nearly the whole night through Giles was going over in his mind just how he ought to do it, and thinking of the many slips he might make and the accidents that could happen.
But he did get some sleep towards the morning. And when he awoke he found that the day was a bright and sunny one. Luke had promised to meet him not far from the palace gates. And as soon as he had swallowed some breakfast he put the shell in his pocket and started forth. Anne followed just far enough behind to keep her brother in sight. She had a very worried look on her face and a wondrous new admiration for him in her heart.
When he reached the place where he was to meet Luke, he was disappointed to find no one there. But soon he heard a whistle; and on looking about him saw the lame boy across the street in a deep doorway, making signs for him to come over and join him. This he did and Luke drew him back into the shadows.
‘See,’ said Luke, ‘we can get a good view of the castle gates from here without being seen.’
‘But how do we know the King will come out this way?’ whispered Giles. ‘There are other gates to the castle.’
‘Yes, but this is the main one and will almost surely be used by the King,’ said Luke. ‘Now pay attention to me: I’ve been doing a little listening among the soldiers of the guard when they were talking in the taverns last night. It seems the King is going out hunting this morning. Most likely a party of gentlemen will be with him and some servants and huntsmen. You see those soldiers walking up and down there?’
‘Yes,’ said Giles. ‘I’d hate to get a crack from one of those big axe-things they’re carrying.’
‘Well, those men are only the sentries,’ Luke went on. ‘Now just before the King appears a whole lot more soldiers will come out from the castle yard. And they’ll line up along the bridge over the moat. But they will leave the way clear for the King and his friends to pass through. They always do the same for the Duke. It is to keep the people from crowding up too close. Mustn’t it be awful to be a king and have such a lot of fuss made every time you want to go out for a walk?’
‘Yes, but how am I going to get near him,’ asked Giles, ‘when he’s surrounded by soldiers?’
‘That’s just your chance,’ said Luke. ‘The people will crowd up behind the soldiers, trying to get a look at the King going by. And you, Giles, have got to be in the front row of those people, just behind the soldiers. Then, when the right moment comes, and the King—by the way, you will recognize him, won’t you? He’ll likely be dressed quite differently from yesterday—maybe riding a different-coloured horse. But you’d know him anyway, wouldn’t you?’
‘I—I think so,’ said Giles. ‘I got a good look at his face when he was standing in the market-place.’
‘Well, if you’re not certain,’ said Luke, ‘we’ll have to give it up for today. Because if you should stop the wrong man, goodness only knows what might happen. But I’ll be there beside you to help make sure of him. Now, as soon as he comes right opposite you, you’ll have to dive right through the soldiers, through their legs if need be—you’re small, that’s one thing. Then stand right in front of the King, so he’ll have to stop. Hold up the shell and say you beg leave to speak with him.’
‘Oh, my!’ muttered Giles. ‘It sounds awful scary. I’m glad I have you with me, Luke. You’ll nudge me when you think everything is all right, won’t you?’
‘Yes, I’ll be just at your elbow . . . Listen! do you hear those trumpets inside the walls? That means the soldiers are getting ready. The King will soon be coming out.’
From their doorway the two boys now saw the townsfolk begin to gather at the gates. Every passer-by stopped and added himself to the throng till soon there was quite a crowd waiting.
Luke decided this was a good time for both of them to come forth and mingle with the people, so as not to be noticed. And Giles was astonished at the speed and ease with which the lame boy dug his way through the crowd, on one leg and a crutch, without being knocked down. It was clearly something at which he had had much practice.
But for the most part poor Giles paid close attention to the castle gates that hid all the glory of princes’ lives from common view. And when at last the two enormous wooden doors began to swing slowly open, his heart was pattering very fast, his eyes were wide-staring, but about his mouth and jaw there was a firm and steady look.
Standing on the threshold of the castle yard six lads could now be seen, brightly dressed in gay uniforms, with six shining trumpets held ready at their lips. They were very still, very silent. But all at once, when the doors had swung the whole way open, they blew a mighty blast of sound.
When the music had died away things began to bustle. The trumpeters drew back to one side and a soldier, clearly an officer of the guard, came forward and gave some orders to the sentries. These began herding the people back from the gateway; and soon a larger body of troops (about a hundred men, Giles guessed) marched out and formed up along the sides of the street.
‘Good!’ whispered Luke. ‘The King will be going out by the East. Let’s move farther down, close to the bend, by the fountain. The people are fewer there—and the soldiers not so many. But we must not get too far away, or the horses will be trotting instead of walking. Oh, goodness! There he comes. Let’s hurry.’
Again with surprising speed, the lame boy broke into a hobbling, hopping run; and in a couple of minutes the two had taken up a position on the line of march a hundred yards or so farther down the street. Here Luke became still more careful that they should not attract notice from anyone. And with Giles at his heels he sidled in through the crowd till the two of them had their noses almost touching the back of an enormous soldier.
This morning the people were not shouting as they had been yesterday. That had been a day of welcome. Now they were just very respectful and quiet. And no one would have guessed what they were waiting for if it had not been that all the men and boys took off their hats as a party of horsemen came trotting out from the castle gate.
Giles’s heart sank as he saw the pace they moved at. It would be no easy matter for a boy of his size to stop a mounted man at the trot. But the party slowed down to a walk as soon as it had passed the bridge over the moat.
‘Fine!’ whispered Luke. ‘The King is riding right in front. That’s he in grey, with the scarlet feather in his cap. Move a little to your right ... a little more—so you’re between the two soldiers. Steady! Don’t press forward yet. Wait till I nudge you.’
To poor Giles it seemed hours while the grey figure on the beautiful white horse walked down that hundred yards of cobbled road. A few paces behind came five or six noblemen—and behind them again, twenty or thirty servants or huntsmen. Everyone was mounted. As they came nearer, Giles, without stretching his neck too far forward between the soldiers, tried to see the faces of the horsemen behind the King. He somehow felt more afraid of them and the soldiers at his elbow than he did of the King himself. He looked for the proud dark face of the Duke. But it was not there. The King was going hunting today without the company of his cousin.
Then Giles heard a gentle whinny; and suddenly his wandering gaze found that the head of the white horse had come almost level with him. At that moment a bony hand pushed him softly in the back.
In a flash he had ducked under the soldier’s arm and leapt out into the open roadway.
From then on, things happened so fast that he could scarcely remember afterwards the order or the nature of them. So anxious was he that the King should not pass, that he grasped the royal bridle with his right hand while he held the shell up with his left. The horse reared in sudden fright and snatched its reins out of his fingers. A gasp of horror broke from the people. The big soldier jumped for the boy with his terrible halberd raised to strike. But somebody’s crutch got tangled up in his legs and he came down with a clattering crash upon the cobbles, while his helmet rolled across the street. One of the noblemen spurred his horse forward to ride Giles down with drawn sword. In the wink of an eye the boy would have been killed. But the King, with his horse still rearing on two legs, struck the sword upward with his riding-whip. Two more soldiers sprang out of the ranks with murder in their eyes and their lances lowered to run this daring urchin through.
‘Stand away there!’ roared the King. ‘Who gave you orders to leave the ranks? The boy has no weapon. He’s not trying to kill me. What’s the matter with you all? Be still—everyone!’