“What may it be?”
“He is going to spare John Trumbull’s life and set him free.”
The old man staggered.
“Hurrah for King George!” he said. “My king! my king!”
He sunk down on the grass. “My king! my king!”
That the reader may have the exact truth of this bit of fact-fiction, let me give you the anecdote from history, that so finely reveals the better side of the character of the half-insane old King.
Benjamin West, on hearing of the arrest of his pupil, went directly to the King in Buckingham Palace, and asked for the young American painter’s release.
“I am sorry for the young man,” said his Majesty George III, “but he is in the hands of the law, and must abide the result; I can not interpose. Do you know whether his parents are living?”
“I think I have heard him say,” replied Mr. West, “that he has very lately received news of the death of his mother; I believe his father is living.”
“I pity him from my soul!” exclaimed the King. “But, West,” said he, after musing for a few moments, “go to Mr. Trumbull immediately, and pledge to him my royal promise, that, in the worst possible event of the law, his life shall be safe!”