Now began a movement of the gorgeous particles of that official
group which was slow, scarcely perceptible, and yet steady and
persistent- a movement such as is observed in a kaleidoscope that is
turned slowly, whereby the components of one splendid cluster fall
away and join themselves to another- a movement which, little by
little, in the present case, dissolved the glittering crowd that stood
about Tom Canty and clustered it together again in the neighborhood of
the new-comer. Tom Canty stood almost alone. Now ensued a brief season
of deep suspense and waiting- during which even the few faint-hearts
still remaining near Tom Canty gradually scraped together courage
enough to glide, one by one, over to the majority. So at last Tom
Canty, in his royal robes and jewels, stood wholly alone and
isolated from the world, a conspicuous figure, occupying an eloquent
vacancy.
Now the Lord St. John was seen returning. As he advanced up the
mid-aisle the interest was so intense that the low murmur of
conversation in the great assemblage died out and was succeeded by a
profound hush, a breathless stillness, through which his footfalls
pulsed with a dull and distant sound. Every eye was fastened upon
him as he moved along. He reached the platform, paused a moment,
then moved toward Tom Canty with a deep obeisance, and said:
'Sire, the Seal is not there!'
A mob does not melt away from the presence of a plague-patient
with more haste than the band of pallid and terrified courtiers melted
away from the presence of the shabby little claimant of the Crown.
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