“Shucks!” says he. “And you mustn’t speak about the young Duke as Rock. ’Tain’t respectful. Earl Wigglesworth’s son! Shucks! Anybody could see that b-baby in the photographs was a girl. Besides, didn’t this p-prisoner Pekoe say he was a son of the man called the Big Duke, that’s off huntin’ for the Holy Grail or s-s-somethin’ in far countries?”
“Sure,” says I, “so he did.”
We didn’t say anything for a spell, and then I asked: “If the young Duke hain’t a son of Earl Wigglesworth’s, why was he fetched here? What int’rest did the Earl Wigglesworth have in him, anyhow?”
“That,” says Mark, “is exactly what we got to f-f-find out. Hain’t you s-satisfied with havin’ a dandy mystery? Want to spoil it by s-s-solvin’ it without any trouble? What good’s a m-m-mystery unless it’s mysterious?” says he.
That did sound reasonable.
“S’posin’,” says Mark, “that the young Duke wasn’t jest the Duke, but was entitled to be somethin’ more. Maybe king or some job like that. And s’posin’, while his father, the Big Duke, was off c-c-chasin’ this Holy Grail, that enemies s-stole him away, and there wasn’t any way to p-prove he was the rightful king. See? And s’posin’ this Earl Wigglesworth he had somethin’ to prove it by, but didn’t dare to b-burn it up or any thin’. And when he come to die he r-r-repented his bad deeds. And then he wrote that p-p-paper showin’ where the p-papers to prove the Duke was entitled to be king was hid. That’s how I f-f-figger it. Now, we faithful retainers of the Duke has got to r-recover them papers and fix it so’s the Duke comes into what’s rightfully hisn. Hain’t that about it?”
“Shouldn’t be s’prised,” says I. “But seems to me like the Big Duke was mighty careless to go off chasin’ that Grail, whatever that is, and leave his son layin’ around loose for anybody to steal.”
“These here chivalrous knights,” says Mark, “was always doin’ them foolish things. If they hadn’t,” says he, “there wouldn’t have been any s-s-stories. Seems l-like every knight was a l-little crazy. All I ever read about did things that was so silly you’d lick a p-puppy for not knowin’ better than they did.”
“What’s this Grail you was talkin’ about?”
“It’s a cup,” says Mark, “and I guess it’s a magic cup or somethin’, near’s I kin judge. It’s got a way of wanderin’ around all by itself and hidin’ away. Feller named Galahad up and f-found it once. His dad’s name was Launcelot, and he was the biggest knight that ever was.”