In the following years of Henry's reign, any one entering the royal kitchens might have observed a boy, meanly dressed, following his occupation as a turnspit; and that boy, had he felt disposed to give you his history, would have told you how once upon a time he was crowned a king, and lived in a palace, how nobles bowed the knee before him, and troops fought at his bidding. He would have told how people had hailed him as King Edward of England, and rushed along beside his carriage, eager to catch so much as a glance from his eye. And then he would go on to tell how all this was because designing men had put into his head foolish ambitions, and taught him to repeat a likely-looking story. And if one had questioned him further, doubtless he would have confessed that he was happier far now as a humble turnspit than ever he had been as a sham king, and would have warned one sadly that cheats never prosper, however successful they may seem for a time; and that contentment with one's lot, humble though it be, brings with it rewards infinitely greater than riches or power wrongly acquired. CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. EDWARD AND RICHARD PLANTAGENET, THE BOYS WHO WERE MURDERED IN THE TOWER. A horseman stood at the gate of the Tower of London, and demanded entrance in the name of the king, Richard Iii. On hearing the summons, and the authority claimed by the stranger, the governor, Sir Thomas Brackenbury, directed that he should be admitted, and deliver his message. "Read this," said the man, handing a missive sealed with the royal seal. Sir Thomas read the document hastily, and as he read his face grew troubled. For a long time he was silent; then addressing the king's messenger, he said-- "Know you the contents of this letter?" "How should I know?" replied the other evasively. "The king directs me here," said Sir Thomas, "to do a deed horrible and unworthy of a man. He demands that I should rid him of the two lads now lying in this Tower in my custody." "And what of that?" said the king's messenger. "Is it not necessary to the country's peace? And will _you_, Sir Thomas, render so base an ingratitude for the favours you have received at the king's hands by refusing him this service?" "Not even with the sanction of a king will Thomas Brackenbury hire himself out as a butcher. My office and all I have," he added, "I hold at His Majesty's pleasure. He may take them from me if he will, but my hands shall at least stay free from innocent blood!" With that he bade the messenger return to his master and deliver his reply. When Richard, away in Gloucestershire, heard of the refusal of the Governor of the Tower to execute his commands, he was very wroth, and vowed he would yet carry out his cruel purpose with regard to his two helpless nephews.