ot
let either his own conscience or my messenger speak to him: I therefore
now speak myself. I proclaim him a villain, and a traitor to His
Majesty the king. But what better is any one of you who cares only for
himself, eats, drinks, takes good money, and gives vile service in
return, stealing and wasting the king's property, and making of the
palace, which ought to be an example of order and sobriety, a disgrace
to the country?'

For a moment all stood astonished into silence by this bold speech from
a stranger. True, they saw by his mattock over his shoulder that he
was nothing but a miner boy, yet for a moment the truth told
notwithstanding. Then a great roaring laugh burst from the biggest of
the footmen as he came shouldering his way through the crowd toward
Curdie.

'Yes, I'm right,' he cried; 'I thought as much! This messenger,
forsooth, is nothing but a gallows bird--a fellow the city marshal was
going to hang, but unfortunately put it off till he should be starved
enough to save rope and be throttled with a pack thread. He broke
prison, and here he is preaching!' As he spoke, he stretched out his
great hand to lay hold of him. Curdie caught it in his left hand, and
heaved his mattock with the other. Finding, however, nothing worse
than an ox hoof, he restrained himself, stepped back a pace or two,
shifted his mattock to his left hand, and struck him a little smart
blow on the shoulder. His arm dropped by his side, he gave a roar, and
drew back.

His fellows came crowding upon Curdie. Some called to the dogs; others
swore; the women screamed; the footmen and pages got round him in a
half circle, which he kept from closing by swinging his mattock, and
here and there threatening a blow.

'Whoever confesses to having done anything wrong in this house, however
small, however great, and means to do better, let him come to this
corner of the room,' he cried.

None moved but the page, who went toward him skirting the wall. When
they caught sight of him, the crowd broke into a hiss of derision.

'There! See! Look at the sinner! He confesses! Actually confesses!
Come, what is it you stole? The barefaced hypocrite! There's your sort
to set up for reproving other people! Where's the other now?'

But the maid had left the room, and they let the page pass, for he
looked dangerous to stop. Curdie had just put him betwixt him and the
wall, behind the door, when in rushed the butler with the huge kitch