He walked up and down the floor, filled with nameless fears, listening,

Starting at every trifling sound. Presently the door swung open, and a silken

page said:

'The Lady Jane Grey.'

The door closed, and a sweet young girl, richly clad, bounded toward him.

But she stopped suddenly, and said in a distressed voice:

'Oh, what aileth thee, my lord?'

Tom's breath was nearly failing him; but he made shift to stammer out:

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'Ah, be merciful, thou! In sooth I am no lord, but only poor Tom Canty of

Offal Court in the city. Prithee let me see the prince, and he will of his grace

Restore to me my rags, and let me hence unhurt. Oh, be thou merciful, and

save me!'

By this time the boy was on his knees, and supplicating with his eyes and

Uplifted hands as well as with his tongue. The young girl seemed horror-

stricken. She cried out:

'Oh, my lord, on thy knees? and to me!'

Then she fled away in fright; and Tom, smitten with despair, sank down,

murmuring:

'There is no help, there is no hope. Now will they come and take me.'

Whilst he lay there benumbed with terror, dreadful tidings were speeding

Through the palace. The whisper, for it was whispered always, flew from

Menial to menial, from lord to lady, down all the long corridors, from story to

story, from saloon to saloon, 'The prince hath gone mad, the prince hath gone

mad!' Soon every saloon, every marble hall, had its groups of glittering lords