“Oh, for a hundred men armed with modern rifles!” said Tom. “Then we could conquer the whole world.”
But with the subjugation of the Saxon, dark days follow for the three friends. Harry, trying to get a footing in the new court, and struggling with the new language, is stabbed by a jealous court jester. Dick, having escaped from the irate Danes, marries an Irish princess and becomes one of the Irish kings. Tom, continuing to indulge in his gift for prophecy, incurs the dislike of the Church and is thrown into prison. Then one bright morning he is led to be executed. He lays his head on the block. The executioner raises his axe. There is sudden blankness....
“Yes, very interesting case,” he hears the doctor saying. “Fell thirty feet. Came nasty whack on the rocks. We’ve trepanned ... expect him to recover consciousness quite soon....”
One morning, about the beginning of July, I was leading Dick through a whirl of adventure in the wilds of darkest Ireland, when Anastasia entered. I looked at her blankly.
“Hullo! What’s wrong now?”
“Oh! I am desolate. Please excuse me for trouble you, darleen, but there is no help for it. We have forget the rent, and once more it is necessary to be paid.”
“Oh, the rent, the awful, inevitable rent! What a cursed institution it is! Well, Little Thing, I’ve no money.”
“What we do, darleen?”
“It’s very unfortunate. I’m getting on so nicely with my novel, and here I have to break off and worry over matters of sordid finance.”