A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court
by Mark Twain
Chapter 36 - An Encounter in the Dark
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.
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 --
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
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:
"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."
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.
"An ye will keep the offer open --"
"'Tis open till the morrow at this hour."
"Then I will answer you at that time," said the gentleman, and disappeared,
the master following him.
I had a time of it to cool the king down, but I managed it. I whispered in his ear, to
"Your grace WILL go for nothing, but after another fashion. And so shall I.
To-night we shall both be free."
"Ah! How is that?"
"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."
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.
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 walkingstaff 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.
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.
"Quick!" said the king. "Fetch him back!"
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 --
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!
The Celtic Hammer June 22, 1996