Принц и нищий

           Littlethings,trifles,slipoutofone’sken,andonedoesnotthinkitmatterforsurprise;buthowsobulkyathingastheSealofEnglandcanvanishawayandnomanbeabletogettrackofitagain—amassygoldendisk—"

           TomCanty,withbeamingeyes,sprangforwardandshouted—

           "Hold,thatisenough!Wasitround?—andthick?—andhaditlettersanddevicesgraveduponit?—yes?Oh,nowIknowwhatthisGreatSealisthatthere’sbeensuchworryandpotherabout.An’yehaddescribedittome,yecouldhavehaditthreeweeksago.RightwellIknowwhereitlies;butitwasnotIthatputitthere—first."

           "Who,then,myliege?"askedtheLordProtector.

           "Hethatstandsthere—therightfulKingofEngland.Andheshalltellyouhimselfwhereitlies—thenyouwillbelieveheknewitofhisownknowledge.Bethinkthee,myKing—spurthymemory—itwasthelast,theverylastthingthoudidstthatdaybeforethoudidstrushforthfromthepalace,clothedinmyrags,topunishthesoldierthatinsultedme."

           Asilenceensued,undisturbedbyamovementorawhisper,andalleyeswerefixeduponthenew-comer,whostood,withbentheadandcorrugatedbrow,gropinginhismemoryamongathrongingmultitudeofvaluelessrecollectionsforonesinglelittleelusivefact,which,found,wouldseathimuponathrone—unfound,wouldleavehimashewas,forgoodandall—apauperandanoutcast.Momentaftermomentpassed—themomentsbuiltthemselvesintominutes—stilltheboystruggledsilentlyon,andgavenosign.