Bartolome Esteban Murillo paintings
Berthe Morisot paintings
Cheri Blum paintings
"Then "tis settled, and there is naught more to say."
"We will see, as to that!" exclaimed John Canty, striding past Hendon to get at the boy; "by force shall he-"
"If thou do but touch him, thou animated offal, I will spit thee like a goose!" said Hendon, barring the way and laying his hand upon his sword-hilt. Canty drew back. "Now mark ye," continued Hendon, "I took this lad under my protection when a mob such as thou would have mishandled him, mayhap killed him; dost imagine I will desert him now to a worser fate?-for whether thou art his father or no-and sooth to say, I think it is a lie-a decent swift death were better for such a lad than life in such brute hands as thine. So go thy ways, and set quick about it, for I like not much bandying of words, being not overpatient in my nature." John Canty moved off, muttering threats and curses, and was swallowed from sight in the crowd. Hendon ascended three flights of stairs to his room, with his charge, after ordering a meal to be sent thither. It was a poor apartment, with a shabby bed and some odds and ends of old furniture in it, and was vaguely lighted by a couple of sickly candles. The little king dragged himself to the bed and lay down upon it, almost exhausted with hunger and fatigue. He had been on his feet a good part of a day and a night, for it was now two or three o'clock in the morning, and had eaten nothing meantime. He murmured drowsily:
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