From then on, things happened so fast that he could scarcely remember afterwards the order or the nature of them. So anxious was he that the King should not pass, that he grasped the royal bridle with his right hand while he held the shell up with his left. The horse reared in sudden fright and snatched its reins out of his fingers. A gasp of horror broke from the people. The big soldier jumped for the boy with his terrible halberd raised to strike. But somebody’s crutch got tangled up in his legs and he came down with a clattering crash upon the cobbles, while his helmet rolled across the street. One of the noblemen spurred his horse forward to ride Giles down with drawn sword. In the wink of an eye the boy would have been killed. But the King, with his horse still rearing on two legs, struck the sword upward with his riding-whip. Two more soldiers sprang out of the ranks with murder in their eyes and their lances lowered to run this daring urchin through.
‘Stand away there!’ roared the King. ‘Who gave you orders to leave the ranks? The boy has no weapon. He’s not trying to kill me. What’s the matter with you all? Be still—everyone!’
15 The King listens to the shell
The royal command quieted the uproar in an instant. But Giles, now too scared and breathless to speak himself, felt the shell burn in his hand as the hundreds of onlookers put their heads together and whispered about him and his mad deed.
The King patted the neck of the beautiful white horse, which was still tossing its head and snorting nervously.
‘There, there, Africa,’ he was saying, as though talking to a baby. ‘Everything’s all right now. Settle down, my beauty, settle down.’
In silence His Majesty straightened the cap on his head and threw away his broken riding-whip. Instantly one of the noblemen moved forward and gave him his.
‘Listen, young man,’ said the King at length, looking at Giles with a slight frown. ‘You mustn’t jump out suddenly in front of horses like that, you know. You wouldn’t like it, if you were a horse. You gave my Africa a fine fright. What do you want? What’s that in your hand there?’
‘Sh-sh-sh-shell, Your Majesty,’ the boy stuttered out at last.
‘A shell!’ said the King. ‘You risked your neck and scared us all like that for a shell!’