might traverse the streets of London without being subject to the closest

scrutiny.

Taking advantage of the forced wait, De Vac undressed the Prince and

clothed him in other garments, which had been wrapped in the bundle hidden

beneath the thwart; a little red cotton tunic with hose to match, a black

doublet and a tiny leather jerkin and leather cap.

The discarded clothing of the Prince he wrapped about a huge stone torn

from the disintegrating masonry of the river wall, and consigned the bundle

to the voiceless river.

The Prince had by now regained some of his former assurance and, finding

that De Vac seemed not to intend harming him, the little fellow commenced

questioning his grim companion, his childish wonder at this strange

adventure getting the better of his former apprehension.

"What do we here, Sir Jules ?" he asked. "Take me back to the King's, my

father's palace. I like not this dark hole nor the strange garments you

have placed upon me."

"Silence, boy !" commanded the old man. "Sir Jules be dead, nor are you a

king's son. Remember these two things well, nor ever again let me hear you

speak the name Sir Jules, or call yourself a prince."

The boy went silent, again cowed by the fierce tone of his captor.

Presently he began to whimper, for he was tired and hungry and

frightened -- just a poor little baby, helpless and hopeless in the hands

of this cruel enemy -- all his royalty as nothing, all gone with the silken

finery which lay in the thick mud at the bottom of the Thames, and

presently he dropped into a fitful sleep in the bottom of the skiff.

<<BackPagesTo menuNext>>