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Hendon Hall

AS soon as Hendon and the king were out of sight of the constable, his majesty
was instructed to hurry to a certain place outside the town, and wait there,
whilst Hendon should go to the inn and settle his account. Half an hour later the
two friends were blithely jogging eastward on Hendon’s sorry steeds. The king
was warm and comfortable now, for he had cast his rags and clothed himself in
the second-hand suit which Hendon had bought on London Bridge.

Hendon wished to guard against over-fatiguing the boy; he judged that hard
journeys, irregular meals, and illiberal measures of sleep would be bad for his
crazed mind, while rest, regularity, and moderate exercise would be pretty sure
to hasten its cure; he longed to see the stricken intellect made well again and its
diseased visions driven out of the tormented little head; therefore he resolved to
move by easy stages toward the home whence he had so long been banished,
instead of obeying the impulse of his impatience and hurrying along night and

When he and the king had journeyed about ten miles, they reached a
considerable village, and halted there for the night, at a good inn. The former
relations were resumed; Hendon stood behind the king’s chair while he dined,
and waited upon him; undressed him when he was ready for bed; then took the
floor for his own quarters, and slept athwart the door, rolled up in a blanket.
The next day, and the next day after, they jogged lazily along talking over the
adventures they had met since their separation, and mightily enjoying each
other’s narratives. Hendon detailed all his wide wanderings in search of the
king, and described how the archangel had led him a fool’s journey all over the
forest, and taken him back to the hut finally, when he found he could not get rid
of him.

Then-he said-the old man went into the bed-chamber and came staggering back
looking broken-hearted, and saying he had expected to find that the boy had
returned and lain down in there to rest, but it was not so. Hendon had waited at
the hut all day; hope of the king’s return died out then, and he departed upon
the quest again.

‘And old Sanctum Sanctorum was truly sorry your Highness came not back,’
said Hendon; ‘I saw it in his face.’ ‘Marry, I will never doubt that!’ said the king-
and then told his own story; after which Hendon was sorry he had not destroyed
the archangel.

During the last day of the trip, Hendon’s spirits were soaring. His tongue ran
constantly. He talked about his old father, and his brother Arthur, and told of
many things which illustrated their high and generous characters; he went into
loving frenzies over his Edith, and was so glad-hearted that he was even able to
say some gentle and brotherly things about Hugh. He dwelt a deal on the
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