The Thames River was aglow1 with bonfires. High above the roar and thunder of the crowd, a bugle2 sounded. A hush fell over the city as a palace messenger spoke. “The king is dead!”
The words struck a chill to Edward's heart. Then another cry shook the night: “Long live King Edward the Sixth!”
Yet Edward could convince no one that he was king. Although the crowd jeered3 and taunted him, he stood his ground. “I will not say that I am not king.”
“Whether you are or not, you are a gallant4 lad, and not without a friend. I, Miles Hendon, will prove it.” With that, the tall, strong man caught up the prince in his arms and wanted to carry him away from the mob. But Edward got lost with him.
The mob already had a plan to trick the boy into joining a gang of beggars and thieves. Hearing the boy declare that he was King of England, a tinker5 shrieked6, “The first!”
Almost before Edward could draw a breath, he was crowned with a tin basin7, robed in a tattered8 blanket, throned on a barrel, and sceptered9 with the tinker's soldering10 iron. All fell themselves on their knees and wiped their eyes with their sleeves. “O king!”
The little king's eyes filled with tears. “They are so cruel to me, yet I have done nothing to them.”
By dawn, gaiety11 was gone from the mob. They set forward on a long march, but came to a halt on the outskirts of a village and scattered to ply12 their trades.
Edward did not slow his pace, but kept going until he was out of harm's reach. On he traveled, wounded and indignant13, obliged to keep moving until nightfall. How glad he was to see a glimmer of light coming from a hut! He grew close to look inside. Before a shrine14, lighted by a single candle, kneeled an aged man, and on an old wooden box at his side an open book and a human skull. The man was large and bony; his hair and whiskers were long and snowy white, and he was clothed in a sheepskin robe.
“A holy hermit15!” Edward exclaimed. He nearly leaped for joy as he knocked on the door.
A voice responded: “Enter! But leave sin behind, for the ground you will stand on is holy!”
The boy entered and said， “I am the king.”
“Will, I am an angel! I might have been pope!” said the hermit.“You are king of what?”
“Of England.”
“Henry is gone?”
“I am his son.”
A frown settled on the hermit's face. “Do you know that your father turned us out homeless into the world?”
There was no response. The old man scanned the boy's face and listened to his soft breathing. “He's asleep,” he whispered, and went to sharpen an old butcher16 knife.“It is best that he not cry out,” the hermit muttered.
He took a rag and a thong17 and gently tied the king's ankles and wrists. An evil smile crept over the old man's face. “Son of Henry the Eighth, have you prayed?”
The boy's eyes opened, staring up in horror at the knife.
Suddenly, knocking thundered on the cabin door. The knife dropped from the hermit's hand. He threw a sheepskin over the boy and closed the door behind him.
A voice—that of Miles Hendon—asked, “Where is the boy?”
“If you mean the ragged babe, I sent him on an errand18,” the hermit replied.
Footsteps died away quickly, and a dull despair pressed the king's heart. “My only friend is deceived. The hermit will return and...”
Again the door opened. The king pinched19 his eyes shut, then opened them to see John Canty and a youth standing before him. A moment later, his limbs were set free and his captors were hurrying him through the forest.
Now did King Tom Canty ever think about the rightful prince who treated him so kindly? At first, yes, but after a while Tom's mind became busy with his kingdom.
On Coronation20 Day, the people gave a glad shout to welcome him. They received him with21 prayers and tender words, urging the great pageant22 forward from one triumphal arch23 to another.
“And all of this is for me!”murmured Tom Canty.
A triumphant24 anthem25 swept through Westminster Abbey26 as Tom, robed in gold, stepped onto the platform, and the Archbishop27 of Canterbury held the crown of England over Tom's trembling head. In the same instant, another boy, bareheaded and dressed in rags, walked up the central aisle. “I forbid you to set the crown of England on that head. I am the king!” he warned.
Several hands were laid on the boy at once. Tome Canty shouted, “Let go of him! He is the king!”
Of course, no one believed it. However, the Lord Protector did observe the pair's resemblance. “I desire to ask certain questions which...”
“I will answer them, my lord,” Edward said.
“Where is the Great Seal？”
Edward hesitated. “I know where it is, but I did not put it there first,” Tom interrupted. “Before you ran from the palace, you snatched up28 a large gold disk and looked about as if for a hiding place.”
“Yes! Yes! It's in a piece of armor29 hanging on the wall!”
“The scepter is yours, my king!” Tom cried.
Everyone in the hall stood up as a nobleman rushed to the king's apartment. When he returned, he held the Great Seal high for all to see. Another shout went up, “Long live the real king!” The golden robe of state was taken from Tom's shoulders and put on Edward's, and the crown set upon his head.
It so bewildered Miles Hendon that when he met the king again, Hendon gazed at him transfixed30. “Is it a dream?”
He and Tom would always be the king's favorites. Tome Canty lived to be very old as the King's Ward. King Edward VI became a great king. More than once, when he tried to make a law more gentle and a dignitary argued that it was gentle enough, the king answered: “What do you know about suffering? I and my people know, but not you.”
泰晤士河被篝火映得通红。骚乱的人群之上一阵喇叭声响起，王宫使者宣布：“国王驾崩了！”全城立刻静默无声。
噩耗让爱德华心如刀绞。接着，“爱德华六世陛下万岁！”的高呼声划破了夜空。
虽然爱德华无法让任何人相信他是国王，虽然人群在嘲笑他、辱骂他，他并不动摇。“我就是国王。”
“不管你是不是国王，你都是一个勇敢的小伙子，值得拥有朋友。我，迈尔斯·亨顿，会为你作证的。”说完，这位高大魁梧的好汉将王子挟在腋下，想带他离开这些暴徒们，但王子跟他走散了。
那伙乞丐和小偷已想出了一个骗这孩子入伙的招儿。听到这个男孩说自己是国王，一个补锅匠尖叫起来：“头儿！”
还没等爱德华喘上一口气来，这伙人就给他脑袋上安了个铁盆当王冠，用破毯子给他作王袍，拿一只木桶给他作宝座，又把铁匠的烙铁给他当权杖。所有人边跪下，边拿着袖筒擦着眼睛大叫：“王啊！”
小国王的眼里蓄满了泪水：“他们对我如此残酷，可我一点没招惹过他们。”
到了黎明，这群乌合之众没了兴致。他们朝前走了一大段路，但是在一个乡村边上停了下来，四处散开去干他们的营生。
爱德华没有放慢脚步，一直走到远离伤害为止。他不停地走着，伤痕累累，怒火中烧，就这样一直走到黄昏。当看到一间小屋里传出的一丝微光，他高兴极了！他走上前朝里望去：屋里孤零零地点着一支蜡烛。在一个祭坛前面，跪着一位老人，他旁边的一个旧木箱上放着一本打开的书，还有一个骷髅。老人身材高大，瘦骨嶙峋，身穿羊皮长袍，长长的胡子头发都像雪一样白。
“一位隐士！”爱德华惊叫。他敲门的时候，高兴得快跳了起来。”
一个声音答道：“进来！但是把罪恶留在身后，因为你要站的这块地神圣无比！”
男孩走进来说：“我是国王。”
“哦，那我就是天使！也许我也是教皇！”隐士说，“你是哪里的国王？”
“英格兰国王。”
“亨利王归天了吗？”
“我是他的儿子。”
隐士皱了皱眉：“你知道吗，你的父亲让我们变得无家可归？”
没有回答。老人盯着男孩的脸，听着他微弱的呼吸。“他睡着了，”老人低语，然后去磨一把旧屠刀。“他最好别叫出声来。”隐士咕哝着。
他用一块抹布和一根皮带捆住了国王的脚踝和手腕。老人的脸上露出邪恶的笑容：“亨利八世的儿子，你祈祷过吗？”
男孩的眼睛睁开了，惊恐地望着那把刀。
忽然有人在咚咚地敲小屋的门。刀从隐士的手中掉了下来，他把羊皮袍子扔在男孩身上遮住他，然后关上身后的门。
一个声音——那是迈尔斯·亨顿的——问：“男孩在哪儿？”
“如果你说的是那个穿着破烂的小鬼，我派他去办事了。”隐士回答。
脚步声很快消失了，国王完全绝望了。“我惟一的朋友被骗了。隐士会回来，然后……”
门又开了，国王紧紧闭住双眼，再一睁开，看到约翰·康蒂和一个年轻人站在他面前。过了一会儿，他手脚被松开了，他们拽着他慌慌忙忙地穿过森林。
那么，国王汤姆·康蒂有没有想起如此善待他的真王子呢？刚开始，是的；但后来，汤姆满脑子都忙着考虑怎样处理国家大事。
举行加冕礼的那天，人们大声欢呼着迎接他。他们以美好的祝福及温柔细语来欢迎他，簇拥着盛大庆典队伍在一个个拱形的凯旋门间游行庆祝。
“所有这一切都是为了我！”汤姆·康蒂喃喃自语。
欢庆的颂歌响彻在威斯敏斯特教堂，汤姆身披金袍，踏上登基台，坎特伯雷大主教手捧英格兰王冠戴在汤姆颤抖的头上。正在这时，另一个男孩，没戴帽子，衣着破烂，走上正中的过道。“不准把英格兰王冠戴到他的头上，我才是国王！”他厉声说道。
好几双手立刻抓住了男孩。汤姆·康蒂大叫：“放开他！他是国王！”
当然没有人相信他。但是摄政大臣的的确确观察到这两个男孩的相似之处：“我想问几个问题……”
“我愿意回答，阁下。”爱德华说道。
“御玺在哪儿？”
爱德华有些犹豫。“我知道它在哪儿，但不是我先把它放到那儿的。”汤姆打断了他们：“在您跑出宫殿之前，您拿了一样大大的圆金盘一样的东西，四处找地方藏起来。”
“是的！是的！在墙上挂着的那副盔甲里！”
“王杖是您的，我的陛下！”汤姆哭喊道。
这时一个贵族冲向国王的房间，大厅里所有的人都站起身来。他回来的时候，把御玺举得高高的让众人瞧见。人们接着欢呼：“真正的国王万岁！”有人把国王的金袍从汤姆肩上取下，披到爱德华的身上，王冠也戴到了他的头上。
迈尔斯·亨顿再次遇到国王的时候十分迷惑不解。亨顿呆呆地看着他：“这是在做梦吗？”
他和汤姆成了国王永远最宠爱的人。汤姆·康蒂以国王护卫的头衔安享天年。爱德华六世成为一名英明的国王。不止一次当他要把法律定得更为宽容、有官员前来阻挠的时候，国王回答：“人间的苦难你了解多少？我和我的人民了解，你却不了解。”
1. aglow adj. 通红的；发红的
2. bugle n. 喇叭；军号
3. jeer v. 嘲笑
4. gallant adj. 英勇的
5. tinker n. 补锅匠
6. shriek v. 尖叫
7. tin basin 铁盆
8. tattered adj. 破旧的
9. scepter v. 授予王位
10. solder v. 焊接
11. gaiety n. 作乐；乐事
12. ply v. （努力）从事，经营
13. indignant adj. 愤怒的
14. shrine n. 神殿；圣地
15. hermit n. 隐士；隐居者
16. butcher n. 屠户
17. thong n. 皮带
18. errand n. 差事；使命
19. pinch v. 紧闭
20. coronation n. 加冕礼
21. receive sb. with sth. 以某种方式欢迎、招待某人
22. pageant n. 庆典，游行
23. triumphal arch 凯旋门
24. triumphant adj. 胜利的
25. anthem n. 圣歌
26. Westminster Abbey 威斯敏斯特教堂，伦敦著名教堂，是英国国王加冕及名人下葬之处。
27. archbishop n. 大主教
28. snatch up 拿起，抓住
29. armor n. 盔甲
30. transfix v. 使呆住