CHAPTER XXVI.
DISOWNED.
The king sat musing a few moments, then looked up and said—
"'Tis strange—most strange. I cannot account for it."
"No, it is not strange, my liege. I know him, and this conduct is but natural. He was a rascal from his birth."
"O, I spake not of him, Sir Miles."
"Not of him? Then of what? What is it that is strange?"
"That the king is not missed."
"How? Which? I doubt I do not understand."
"Indeed? Doth it not strike you as being passing strange that the land is not filled with couriers and proclamations describing my person and making search for me? Is it no matter for commotion and distress that the head of the State is gone?—that I am vanished away and lost?"
"Most true, my king, I had forgot." Then Hendon sighed, and muttered to himself, "Poor ruined mind—still busy with its pathetic dream."
"But I have a plan that shall right us both. I will write a paper, in three tongues—Latin, Greek and English—and thou shalt haste away with it to London in the morning. Give it to none but my uncle, the lord Hertford; when he shall see it, he will know and say I wrote it. Then he will send for me."
"Might it not be best, my prince, that we wait, here, until I prove
