CAPTULO XXIX - Pag 29

When Hendon’s term of service in the stocks was finished, he was released and ordered to quit the region and come back no more. His sword was restored to him, and also his mule and his donkey. He mounted and rode off, followed by the King, the crowd opening with quiet respectfulness to let them , and then dispersing when they were gone.
Hendon was soon absorbed in thought. There were questions of high import to be answered. What should he do? Whither should he go? Powerful help must be found somewhere, or he must relinquish his inheritance and remain under the imputation of being an impostor besides. Where could he hope to find this powerful help? Where, indeed! It was a knotty question. By-and-by a thought occurred to him which pointed to a possibility—the slenderest of slender possibilities, certainly, but still worth considering, for lack of any other that promised anything at all. He ed what old Andrews had said about the young King’s goodness and his generous championship of the wronged and unfortunate. Why not go and try to get speech of him and beg for justice? Ah, yes, but could so fantastic a pauper get ission to the august presence of a monarch? Never mind—let that matter take care of itself; it was a bridge that would not need to be crossed till he should come to it. He was an old campaigner, and used to inventing shifts and expedients: no doubt he would be able to find a way. Yes, he would strike for the capital. Maybe his father’s old friend Sir Humphrey Marlow would help him—‘good old Sir Humphrey, Head Lieutenant of the late King’s kitchen, or stables, or something’—Miles could not just what or which. Now that he had something to turn his energies to, a distinctly defined object to accomplish, the fog of humiliation and depression which had settled down upon his spirits lifted and blew away, and he raised his head and looked about him. He was surprised to see how far he had come; the village was away behind him. The King was jogging along in his wake, with his head bowed; for he, too, was deep in plans and thinkings. A sorrowful misgiving clouded Hendon’s new-born cheerfulness: would the boy be willing to go again to a city where, during all his brief life, he had never known anything but ill-usage and pinching want? But the question must be asked; it could not be avoided; so Hendon reined up, and called out—
“I had forgotten to inquire whither we are bound. Thy commands, my liege!”
“To London!”
Hendon moved on again, mightily contented with the answer—but astounded at it too.
The whole journey was made without an adventure of importance. But it ended with one. About ten o’clock on the night of the 19th of February they stepped upon London Bridge, in the midst of a writhing, struggling jam of howling and hurrahing people, whose beer-jolly faces stood out strongly in the glare from manifold torches—and at that instant the decaying head of some former duke or other grandee tumbled down between them, striking Hendon on the elbow and then bounding off among the hurrying confusion of feet. So evanescent and unstable are men’s works in this world!—the late good King is but three weeks dead and three days in his grave, and already the adornments which he took such pains to select from prominent people for his noble bridge are falling. A citizen stumbled over that head, and drove his own head into the back of somebody in front of him, who turned and knocked down the first person that came handy, and was promptly laid out himself by that person’s friend. It was the right ripe time for a free fight, for the festivities of the morrow—Coronation Day—were already beginning; everybody was full of strong drink and patriotism; within five minutes the free fight was occupying a good deal of ground; within ten or twelve it covered an acre of so, and was become a riot. By this time Hendon and the King were hopelessly separated from each other and lost in the rush and turmoil of the roaring masses of humanity. And so we leave them.

Al terminar el castigo de Hendon en el cepo, fue puesto en libertad y se le orden salir de la comarca y no volver ms. Le fue devuelta su espada, y tambin su mula y su asno. Mont y cabalg, seguido por el rey, la muchedumbre hendindose con silencioso respeto para abrirles paso, y luego dispersndose cuando se hubieron ido.
Pronto estuvo Hendon absorto en sus pensamientos. Haba preguntas de gran importancia que esperaban respuesta. Qu hara? A dnde ira? Tendra que hallar ayuda poderosa en alguna parte, o de otra manera renunciar a su herencia y permanecer, adems, bajo el cargo de ser un impostor. Dnde podra hallar esta poderosa ayuda? Dnde en verdad! Era difcil la pregunta. Pronto se le ocurri una idea que apuntaba a una posibilidad, la ms dbil de las dbiles posibilidades, ciertamente, pero sin embargo digna de considerarse, a falta, en absoluto, de cualquier otra que prometiera algo. Record lo que el viejo Andrews haba dicho acerca de la bondad del joven rey y de su generosa defensa de los agraviados y desdichados. Por qu no ir e intentar hablarle e implorarle justicia? Ah, s! Pero podra un pobre tan grotesco lograr que le itieran ante la augusta presencia de un monarca? Pero, eso no importaba: Ya se vera; era un puente que necesitara ser cruzado hasta que llegara a l. l era veterano de guerra, acostumbrado a inventar subterfugios y expedientes; sin duda podra encontrar un camino. Marchara hacia la capital. Tal vez el viejo amigo de su padre, sir Humphrey Marlow, le ayudara; el buen sir Humphrey, teniente jefe de la cocina del difunto rey, o de las cuadras, o de algo: Miles no poda recordar qu o de qu.
Ahora que tena ya algo a qu dedicar sus energas, un objeto definido que cumplir, la niebla de humillacin y depresin que envolva su espritu se elev, y disip, y l alz la cabeza y mir a su alrededor. Se sorprendi al ver cun lejos haba llegado; la aldea haba quedado muy atrs. El rey iba trotando tras l, con la cabeza inclinada, porque tambin iba sumido en sus pensamientos y planes. Un triste recelo nubl la recin nacida alegra de Hendon: querra el nio volver a una ciudad en la que, durante su breve vida, no haba conocido ms que malos tratos y punzantes necesidades? Pero la pregunta tena que ser respondida, no era posible de evitar; por lo cual Hendon fren la cabalgadura y grit:
–Haba olvidado preguntar a dnde nos dirigimos. Tus rdenes, mi seor?
–A Londres!
Hendon avanz de nuevo, contentsimo con la respuesta, pero tambin asombrado con ella.
Hicieron todo el viaje sin aventura ninguna de importancia. Pero termin con una. Cerca de las diez de la noche del diecinueve de febrero llegaron al Puente de Londres, en medio de una serpenteante, agitada muchedumbre de gente ululando y vitoreando, cuyos rostros, alegrados por la cerveza, se destacaban intensamente a la luz de numerosas antorchas...., y en ese instante la cabeza podrida de un ex duque u otro grande cay entre ellos, golpeando a Hendon en el codo y rebotando entre la precipitada confusin de pies. Tan evanescentes e inestables son las obras humanas en este mundo! El buen rey difunto lleva apenas tres semanas de muerto, y tres das en la tumba, y ya caen los adornos de gente principal que con tanta solicitud haba elegido para su noble puente. Un ciudadano tropez con la cabeza y dio con la suya en la espalda de alguien que tena delante, el cual se volvi y derrib de un golpe a la primera persona que tuvo a mano, y pronto l mismo fue abatido por el amigo de esta persona. Era la mejor hora para una lucha libre, porque las festividades del da siguiente –Da de la Coronacin– estaban empezando ya; todos estaban llenos de bebidas fuertes y de patriotismo; a los cinco minutos la batalla campal ocupaba gran espacio de terreno; a los diez o doce cubra ms o menos un acre y se haba convertido en motn. Para entonces, Hendon y el rey fueron separados irremediablemente, se perdieron en el tropel y alboroto de las rugientes masas humanas. As los dejaremos.