Character Analysis
A bit of background on Miss Mickle to set the stage for you, Shmoopsters: She enters Westmark as a street urchin who latches on to Las Bombas's group and becomes the voice of their talking head. Though raised as the granddaughter of a deaf and mute fisherman, Mickle wound up in an orphanage, then on the streets—but as it turns out, she's really the long-mourned Princess Augusta, daughter of King Augustine and Queen Caroline, whom Cabbarus tried to kill. Nice turnaround, huh?
Street Smarts
Mickle is a tough cookie. When Las Bombas, Musket, and Theo come to her town, she makes fun of their phrenological head and proves she'd be an asset to any trickster's troupe by mimicking the head's voice. In fact, she's so good at providing a voice for the head that it's safe to say she's a natural actress—she's completely self-taught, after all, and completely awesome at her, shall we say, voice over work—that Las Bombas basically can't help but be impressed.
Because she's an orphan and spent a lot of her life on the streets, Mickle has become practical. This means that she knows that promises are cheap, but money talks. So when she gets offered the job with LB and his gang, she's not looking to just go along for the ride in the name of having some company—nope, girl wants to get paid. Check it out:
"Sums?" said Mickle. "Does that mean money?"
"All you could desire. Eventually, that is."
"Done!" cried Mickle, spitting in her palm and seizing the count's hand. Theo could not keep silent. (7.44-46)
Mickle knows what she wants, and she's not interested in compromising on getting it. Plus she's cool enough to seal the deal with a good old-fashioned spit-on-the-palm handshake. Stay classy, Mickle.
Mickle later reveals to Theo that she doesn't know how to read or write. It's not like this has been a problem for her though, since she's been on the streets and all—plus nobody's ever been around to teach her, so it just hasn't really been an option. But this doesn't mean she doesn't have any tricks up her sleeve. Mickle learned a form of sign language, which she's used when robbing people so no one overhears her and her companions. It may not be based in books, but it's the form of language that's been most advantageous to her day-to-day existence.
When Mickle does learn to read and write from Theo though, she's eager for knowledge. The intelligence and adaptability she applied to her previous life comes alive, and she wants to know everything Theo can teach her about letters, though she interjects her own common sense—and impatient—approach to his instruction. She wants to know as much as possible as quickly as she can, and perhaps because of the scarcity of instruction she's had in her own life, Mickle soaks up whatever she can learn from those around her.
She's Got a Soft Side?
This girl's got game. Mickle has lived on the street for years, so she's got to be on her toes, but she is also super-scrawny and needs a good meal. She might act all tough, but the description below hints at a girl who puts up a good front:
Meantime, one of the urchins crept from under the coach and stood watching them. It took Theo a moment to realize this collection of skin and bones was a girl. She wore a pair of ragged breeches tied with a rope about her bony hips, and a dirty shirt with more holes than cloth. She was drab as a street sparrow, with a beaky nose in a narrow face. Her eyes were blue, but pale as if the color had been starved out of them. (7.23)
She might be feisty at heart, but Mickle's not a whole lot to contend with physically—and this suggests a vulnerability to her. It makes sense, of course, that she would be vulnerable—she was orphaned at a young age, raised in an orphanage, her BFF was hung, and she's been forced to fend for herself. Plus, as we learn later on, Cabbarus tried to kill her and she forgot her entire past and her parents. You don't have to take our word for it, though. Mickle has nightmares that leave her sobbing on the regular:
The moon was still high when Theo woke to a thin, trembling sound, like a small animal in pain. He listened a moment. It came from the direction of Friska and the girl. He crawled out and walked cautiously toward them. The mare switched her tail and snuffled gently. Mickle lay on her side, one arm beneath her head, the other outflung. She was motionless, but sobbing as if her heart would break. (7.53)
She might put on a tough act, but when she sleeps—where her guard is completely down—the pain and sadness that Mickle lugs around seeps out. Mickle eventually opens herself up to Theo too, as they become pals, though she feels betrayed when he insults her and abandons them for his principles. And guess what? Mickle isn't one to let go of things easily, so it takes her a while trust Theo again, even after he's rescued her. She tells him:
"Don't touch me," Mickle flung back. "You went off without a word. Not a word to me. You can go to the devil, for all I care." (17.37)
Mickle doesn't trust easily, and she finds it super hard to forgive someone who betrayed her, even if that person is also about to save her from jail. It takes Theo rescuing her and their friends, plus a lot of apologizing, to get back on her good side. In Mickle's defense, though, she's had a pretty rough run of it, and after repeated betrayals, it makes sense that she's wary about letting Theo back in. Ultimately she does, though, and as the story ends, she promises to wait for his return.