CHAPTER VII.
EDWARD'S FIRST NIGHT AWAY FROM THE PALACE.
Meanwhile, life outside of the palace continued for Prince Edward.
While Tom was learning how to act as a prince, Edward was learning how hard it was to be poor.
He was not used to having people ignore him.
They usually jumped at his every command, yet he could not make Mr. Canty listen to him.
John Canty dragged the pleading prince into the family's room.
Edward fought and yelled, but Canty held on tight.
I've had enough of you and your backtalk, Mr. Canty scowled.
I want you out on the streets and begging for money by dawn tomorrow.
And stay out there.
There's no time for play or seeing your friends.
Leave the boy alone, Miss Canty shouted.
Kenti looked at his wife in amazement.
How dare you speak to me that way?
I will do as I like in my own home.
He let go of the boy, though, and told him to get to bed.
Edward looked about the room.
It was lit by a single candle and was quite dark.
An old woman sat in the corner.
Two girls sitting nearby looked at him with pity.
They tried to smile, but they looked worried.
I'll have you all know, he said to Mr. Canty, that this treatment will not go unnoticed.
I am Edward, Prince of Wales.
You will pay for your actions when I am returned to the palace.
Everyone in the room looked at Edward.
The old woman in the corner started to laugh.
The boy had finally gone over the edge.
She rocked in her chair, cackling to herself.
Mrs. Canty looked at the boy with sympathy.
Oh, my dear son, she said.
Do you feel ill?
She reached for his forehead to check for a fever.
She started to cry as she stroked his cheek.
Oh, my poor, sweet Tom.
I'm sorry, Edward said softly.
My name is not Tom.
It's Edward.
Prince Edward.
He realized immediately that she was a very kind woman.
He did not want to frighten her more.
"'Your son is fine.
Please don't worry.
He's at the palace right now.
We exchanged clothes.'
"'Well, aren't we the lucky ones?'
Mr. Canty interrupted.
"'Not everyone on Ophelcourt gets a royal visit.'
He looked at the old woman and winked.
She continued to laugh.
Come on, Nan, bet, don't sit in front of the prince.
Don't you know that's rude?
Mr. Canty stood with his hands on his hips.
We wouldn't want the prince to think badly of us.
When the girls did not move, Mr. Canty became angry.
You heard me, he shouted.
You should kneel before your prince.
Father, Nan said, Tom is very tired.
We should let him get some sleep.
I'm sure he will be better in the morning, Bette added.
And another day's wages down the drain, the old woman said.
Edward stood up.
Enough of this.
I am the king's son.
Mr. Canty looked at Edward.
His face was red with rage.
Mrs. Canty took the boy in her arms.
Please, she said softly, let him sleep through the night.
It will all be better in the morning.
Mr. Canty looked at his wife.
Fine, he said, we'll leave it be for now, but only because I'm tired from my day.
Mrs. Canty nodded her head.
She stroked Edward's hair.
Come, my boy, lie down and try to sleep.
Mrs. Canty straightened the blankets on the straw mat and tucked Edward in.
She tried to make him as comfortable as possible.
She took a piece of bread that she had saved for him out of her pocket.
"'Thank you, Mrs. Canty,' Edward whispered.
"'I will always remember your kindness.'"
When everyone was safely sleeping, Mrs. Canty rose and stood beside Edward.
She watched him sleep for a few minutes.
It seemed impossible that this was not her boy.
Yet there was something that did not feel quite right.
Perhaps it was his tone of voice or how he held his head.
Maybe it was the way he waved his arm when he did not like something.
It was as if he were pushing unwanted people or thoughts aside.
She knew Tom's gestures and habits as well as she knew her own.
Whenever he was woken from a deep sleep, he held his hand in front of his face with his palm out.
He had done it a thousand times, and it was always the same.
Mrs. Canty knelt beside the boy.
Using a feather from her mattress, she tickled his nose.
The boy's eyes opened wide and he sat up slightly, but he did not put his hand in front of his face.
Instead, he closed his eyes and fell back into a deep sleep.
Just to be certain, Mrs. Canty tickled his nose with the feather again.
The boy did not open his eyes this time.
He merely rolled over and pulled the blanket closer.
Mrs. Canty didn't know if she should laugh or cry.
She was happy to realize this boy was not her son.
It meant Tom was not mad.
But she was worried.
Was her boy safe?
Was he truly in the palace?
Surely the king would notice that something was different.
Perhaps she was mad.
How could this not be her son?
None of it made any sense to her.
Mrs. Canty returned to her bed.
All of this must be a dream, she thought.
All will be normal in the morning.
The next morning, however, was anything but normal.
Everyone in the tiny room was awakened by shouting outside.
Suddenly there were several sharp raps on the door.
"'Who's there?'
Mr. Canty shouted from his bed.
"'What do you want?'
"'You better get a move on, Canty,' a man said.
"'You're in a lot of trouble.
That man you knocked down last night was the old priest, Father Andrew.
You hit him too hard.
They've taken him to the hospital.
The police are heading this way.'
Mr. Canty jumped up.
There was no time to waste.
Come on, everyone, up!
We're leaving this minute!
Andrew sat up, startled and confused.
What on earth was all this noise?
It took him a few minutes to remember where he was, that he was no longer in the palace.
His heart sank into his stomach again.
Before he knew it, Edward was racing down the staircase with the Cantys.
The streets were crowded and full of excitement.
There was a street festival.
There were games, musicians and bonfires along the riverbank, and the royal boat was out on the water.
It was just as Tom had described it to the prince.
Unfortunately, Edward had no time to enjoy it.
Mr. Canty grabbed Edward's hand to pull him through the crowd.
Mrs. Canty, Nan, Bette, and the old woman followed behind.
They were all bumped and pushed by the excited crowd.
Mr. Canty lost his balance and almost fell to the ground.
He needed both hands to balance himself.
As soon as he let go of Edward's hand, the prince slipped past the crowd and disappeared.
In only a few moments he was free of his pretend father and was running along the riverside.
