the following years of Henry's reign, any one entering the royal
kitchens might have observed a boy, meanly dressed, following his
occupation as a turnspit; and that boy, had he felt disposed to give you
his history, would have told you how once upon a time he was crowned a
king, and lived in a palace, how nobles bowed the knee before him, and
troops fought at his bidding. He would have told how people had hailed
him as King Edward of England, and rushed along beside his carriage,
eager to catch so much as a glance from his eye. And then he would go
on to tell how all this was because designing men had put into his head
foolish ambitions, and taught him to repeat a likely-looking story. And
if one had questioned him further, doubtless he would have confessed
that he was happier far now as a humble turnspit than ever he had been
as a sham king, and would have warned one sadly that cheats never
prosper, however successful they may seem for a time; and that
contentment with one's lot, humble though it be, brings with it rewards
infinitely greater than riches or power wrongly acquired.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

EDWARD AND RICHARD PLANTAGENET, THE BOYS WHO WERE MURDERED IN THE TOWER.

A horseman stood at the gate of the Tower of London, and demanded
entrance in the name of the king, Richard Iii.

On hearing the summons, and the authority claimed by the stranger, the
governor, Sir Thomas Brackenbury, directed that he should be admitted,
and deliver his message.

"Read this," said the man, handing a missive sealed with the royal
seal.

Sir Thomas read the document hastily, and as he read his face grew
troubled. For a long time he was silent; then addressing the king's
messenger, he said--

"Know you the contents of this letter?"

"How should I know?" replied the other evasively.

"The king directs me here," said Sir Thomas, "to do a deed horrible and
unworthy of a man. He demands that I should rid him of the two lads now
lying in this Tower in my custody."

"And what of that?" said the king's messenger. "Is it not necessary to
the country's peace? And will _you_, Sir Thomas, render so base an
ingratitude for the favours you have received at the king's hands by
refusing him this service?"

"Not even with the sanction of a king will Thomas Brackenbury hire
himself out as a butcher. My office and all I have," he added, "I hold
at His Majesty's pleasure. He may take them from me if he will, but my
hands sh