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<h2> CHAPTER XXXVI </h2>
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<p>AN ENCOUNTER IN THE DARK</p>
<p>London—to a slave—was a sufficiently interesting place. It
was merely a great big village; and mainly mud and thatch. The
streets were muddy, crooked, unpaved. The populace was an ever
flocking and drifting swarm of rags, and splendors, of nodding plumes and
shining armor. The king had a palace there; he saw the outside of
it. It made him sigh; yes, and swear a little, in a poor juvenile
sixth century way. We saw knights and grandees whom we knew, but
they didn't know us in our rags and dirt and raw welts and bruises, and
wouldn't have recognized us if we had hailed them, nor stopped to answer,
either, it being unlawful to speak with slaves on a chain. Sandy
passed within ten yards of me on a mule—hunting for me, I imagined.
But the thing which clean broke my heart was something which
happened in front of our old barrack in a square, while we were enduring
the spectacle of a man being boiled to death in oil for counterfeiting
pennies. It was the sight of a newsboy—and I couldn't get at
him! Still, I had one comfort—here was proof that Clarence was
still alive and banging away. I meant to be with him before long;
the thought was full of cheer.</p>
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<p>I had one little glimpse of another thing, one day, which gave me a great
uplift. It was a wire stretching from housetop to housetop.
Telegraph or telephone, sure. I did very much wish I had a little
piece of it. It was just what I needed, in order to carry out my
project of escape. My idea was to get loose some night, along with
the king, then gag and bind our master, change clothes with him, batter
him into the aspect of a stranger, hitch him to the slave-chain, assume
possession of the property, march to Camelot, and—</p>
<p>But you get my idea; you see what a stunning dramatic surprise I would
wind up with at the palace. It was all feasible, if I could only get
hold of a slender piece of iron which I could shape into a lock-pick.
I could then undo the lumbering padlocks with which our chains were
fastened, whenever I might choose. But I never had any luck; no such thing
ever happened to fall in my way. However, my chance came at last.
A gentleman who had come twice before to dicker for me, without
result, or indeed any approach to a result, came again. I was far
from expecting ever to belong to him, for the price asked for me from the
time I was first enslaved was exorbitant, and always provoked either anger
or derision, yet my master stuck stubbornly to it—twenty-two
dollars. He wouldn't bate a cent. The king was greatly
admired, because of his grand physique, but his kingly style was against
him, and he wasn't salable; nobody wanted that kind of a slave. I
considered myself safe from parting from him because of my extravagant
price. No, I was not expecting to ever belong to this gentleman whom
I have spoken of, but he had something which I expected would belong to me
eventually, if he would but visit us often enough. It was a steel
thing with a long pin to it, with which his long cloth outside garment was
fastened together in front. There were three of them. He had
disappointed me twice, because he did not come quite close enough to me to
make my project entirely safe; but this time I succeeded; I captured the
lower clasp of the three, and when he missed it he thought he had lost it
on the way.</p>
<p>I had a chance to be glad about a minute, then straightway a chance to be
sad again. For when the purchase was about to fail, as usual, the
master suddenly spoke up and said what would be worded thus—in
modern English:</p>
<p>"I'll tell you what I'll do. I'm tired supporting these two for no
good. Give me twenty-two dollars for this one, and I'll throw the
other one in."</p>
<p>The king couldn't get his breath, he was in such a fury. He began to
choke and gag, and meantime the master and the gentleman moved away
discussing.</p>
<p>"An ye will keep the offer open—"</p>
<p>"'Tis open till the morrow at this hour."</p>
<p>"Then I will answer you at that time," said the gentleman, and
disappeared, the master following him.</p>
<p>I had a time of it to cool the king down, but I managed it. I whispered in
his ear, to this effect:</p>
<p>"Your grace <i>will</i> go for nothing, but after another fashion. And
so shall I. To-night we shall both be free."</p>
<p>"Ah! How is that?"</p>
<p>"With this thing which I have stolen, I will unlock these locks and cast
off these chains to-night. When he comes about nine-thirty to
inspect us for the night, we will seize him, gag him, batter him, and
early in the morning we will march out of this town, proprietors of this
caravan of slaves."</p>
<p>That was as far as I went, but the king was charmed and satisfied. That
evening we waited patiently for our fellow-slaves to get to sleep and
signify it by the usual sign, for you must not take many chances on those
poor fellows if you can avoid it. It is best to keep your own
secrets. No doubt they fidgeted only about as usual, but it didn't
seem so to me. It seemed to me that they were going to be forever
getting down to their regular snoring. As the time dragged on I got
nervously afraid we shouldn't have enough of it left for our needs; so I
made several premature attempts, and merely delayed things by it; for I
couldn't seem to touch a padlock, there in the dark, without starting a
rattle out of it which interrupted somebody's sleep and made him turn over
and wake some more of the gang.</p>
<p>But finally I did get my last iron off, and was a free man once more.
I took a good breath of relief, and reached for the king's irons.
Too late! in comes the master, with a light in one hand and his
heavy walking-staff in the other. I snuggled close among the wallow
of snorers, to conceal as nearly as possible that I was naked of irons;
and I kept a sharp lookout and prepared to spring for my man the moment he
should bend over me.</p>
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<p>But he didn't approach. He stopped, gazed absently toward our dusky
mass a minute, evidently thinking about something else; then set down his
light, moved musingly toward the door, and before a body could imagine
what he was going to do, he was out of the door and had closed it behind
him.</p>
<p>"Quick!" said the king. "Fetch him back!"</p>
<p>Of course, it was the thing to do, and I was up and out in a moment.
But, dear me, there were no lamps in those days, and it was a dark
night. But I glimpsed a dim figure a few steps away. I darted
for it, threw myself upon it, and then there was a state of things and
lively! We fought and scuffled and struggled, and drew a crowd in no
time. They took an immense interest in the fight and encouraged us
all they could, and, in fact, couldn't have been pleasanter or more
cordial if it had been their own fight. Then a tremendous row broke
out behind us, and as much as half of our audience left us, with a rush,
to invest some sympathy in that. Lanterns began to swing in all
directions; it was the watch gathering from far and near. Presently
a halberd fell across my back, as a reminder, and I knew what it meant. I
was in custody. So was my adversary. We were marched off
toward prison, one on each side of the watchman. Here was disaster,
here was a fine scheme gone to sudden destruction! I tried to
imagine what would happen when the master should discover that it was I
who had been fighting him; and what would happen if they jailed us
together in the general apartment for brawlers and petty law-breakers, as
was the custom; and what might—</p>
<p>Just then my antagonist turned his face around in my direction, the
freckled light from the watchman's tin lantern fell on it, and, by George,
he was the wrong man!</p>
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