His senses swam in a delirium of pleasure. At this point, just as he was raising

His hand to fling another rich largess, he caught sight of a pale, astounded face

Which was strained forward out of the second rank of the crowd, its intense

Eyes riveted upon him, A sickening consternation struck through him; he

recognized his mother! and up flew his hand, palm outward, before his eyes

— that old involuntary gesture, born of a forgotten episode, and perpetuated

By habit. In an instant more she had torn her way out of the press, and past

The guards, and was at his side. She embraced his leg, she covered it with

kisses, she cried, 'O, my child, my darling!' lifting toward him a face that was

transfigured with joy and love. The same instant an officer of the King's

Guard snatched her away with a curse, and sent her reeling back whence she

came with a vigorous impulse from his strong arm. The words 'I do not know

you, woman!' were falling from Tom Canty's lips when this piteous thing

Occurred; but it smote him to the heart to see her treated so; and as she

Turned for a last glimpse of him, whilst the crowd was swallowing her from his

Sight, she seemed so wounded, so broken-hearted, that a shame fell upon him

Which consumed his pride to ashes, and withered his stolen royalty. His

Grandeurs were stricken valueless; they seemed to fall away from him like