What did you say, Teresa? That her Majesty commanded my presence, if the King had not returned?"
Teresa nodded a.s.sent. She was a little worried--her brother"s face looked worn and pale, and he seemed moved beyond himself. She watched him nervously as he pushed aside the dividing curtain, and looked into the adjoining room. It was still vacant. The window stood open, and the line of the sea, glittering in the moon, shone far off like a string of jewels,--while the perfume of heliotrope and lilies came floating in deliciously on the cool night-breeze. Satisfied that there was as yet no sign of his Royal master, he turned back again,--and stooping his tall head, kissed the charming girl, whose anxious and timid looks betrayed her inward anxiety.
"I am ready, Teresa!" he said cheerfully; "Lead the way!"
She glided quickly on before him, along an inner pa.s.sage leading to the Queen"s apartments. Arriving at one particular door, she opened it noiselessly, and with a warning finger laid on her lips, went in softly,--Sir Roger following. The light of rose-shaded waxen tapers which were reflected a dozen times in the silver-framed mirrors that rose up to the ceiling from banks of flowers below, shed a fairy-like radiance on the figure of the Queen, who, seated at a reading-table, with one hand buried in the loosened waves of her hair, seemed absorbed in the close study of a book. A straight white robe of thick creamy satin flowed round her perfect form,--it was slightly open at the throat, and softened with a drifting snow of lace, in which one or two great jewels sparkled. As Sir Roger approached her with his usual formal salute,--she turned swiftly round with an air of scarcely-concealed impatience.
"Where is the King?" she demanded.
Startled at the sudden peremptory manner of her question, Sir Roger hesitated,--for the moment taken quite aback.
"Did I not tell you," she went on, in the same imperious tone; "that I made you responsible for his safety? Yet--though you were by his side at the time--you could not shield him from attempted a.s.sa.s.sination! That was left,--to a woman!"
Her breast heaved--her eyes flashed glorious lightning,--she looked altogether transformed.
Had a thunder-bolt fallen through the painted ceiling at Sir Roger"s feet, he could scarcely have been more astounded.
"Madam!" he stammered,--and then as the light of her eyes swept over him, with a concentration of scorn and pa.s.sion such as he had never seen in them, he grew deadly pale.
"Who, and what is this woman?" she went on; "Why was it given to _her_ to save the King"s life, while you stood by? Why was she brought to the Palace to be attended like some princess,--and then taken away secretly before I could see her? Lotys is her name--I know it by heart!"
Like twinkling stars, the jewels in her lace scintillated with the quick panting of her breath.
"The King is absent,"--she continued--"as usual;--but why are you not with him, also as usual? Answer me!"
"Madam," said De Launay, slowly; "For some few days past his Majesty has absolutely forbidden me to attend him. To carry out _your_ commands I should be forced to disobey _his_!"
She looked at him in a suppressed pa.s.sion of enquiry.
"Then--is he alone?" she asked.
"Madam, I regret to say--he is quite alone!"
She rose, and paced once up and down the room, a superb figure of mingled rage and pride, and humiliation, all comingled. Her eyes lighted on Teresa, who had timorously withdrawn to a corner of the apartment where she stood apparently busied in arranging some blossoms that had fallen too far out of the crystal vase in which they were set.
"Teresa, you can leave us!" she said suddenly; "I will speak to Sir Roger alone."
With a nervous glance at her brother, who stood mute, his head slightly bent, himself immovable as a figure of stone, Teresa curtseyed and withdrew.
The Queen stood haughtily erect,--her white robes trailing around her,--her exquisite face transfigured into a far grander beauty than had ever been seen upon it, by some pent-up emotion which to Sir Roger was well-nigh inexplicable. His heart beat thickly; he could almost hear its heavy pulsations, and he kept his eyes lowered, lest she should read too clearly in them the adoration of a lifetime.
"Sir Roger, speak plainly," she said, "and speak the truth! Some little time ago you said it was wrong for me to shut out from my sight, my heart, my soul, the ugly side of Nature. I have remedied that fault! I am looking at the ugly side of Nature now,--in myself! The rebellious side--the pa.s.sionate, fierce, betrayed side! I trusted you with the safety of the King!"
"Madam, he _is_ safe!" said Sir Roger quietly;--"I can guarantee upon my life that he is with those who will defend him far more thoroughly than I could ever do! It is better to have a hundred protectors than one!"
"Oh, I know what you would imply!" she answered, impatiently; "I understand, thus far, from what he himself has told me. But--there is something else, something else! Something that portends far closer and more intimate danger to him--"
She paused, apparently uncertain how to go on, and moving back to her chair, sat down.
"If you are the man I have imagined you to be," she continued, in deliberate accents; "You perfectly know--you perfectly understand what I mean!"
Sir Roger raised his head and looked her bravely in the eyes.
"You would imply, Madam, that one, who like myself has been conscious of a great pa.s.sion for many years, should be able to recognise the signs of it in others! Your Majesty is right! Once you expressed to me a wonder as to what it was like "to feel." If that experience has come to you now, I cannot but rejoice,--even while I grieve to think that you must endure pain at the discovery. Yet it is only from the pierced earth that the flowers can bloom,--and it may be you will have more mercy for others, when you yourself are wounded!"
She was silent.
He drew a step nearer.
"You wish me to speak plainly?" he continued in a lower tone. "You give me leave to express the lurking thought which is in your own heart?"
She gave a slight inclination of her head, and he went on.
"You a.s.sume danger for the King,--but not danger from the knife of the a.s.sa.s.sin--or from the schemes of revolutionists! You judge him--as I do--to be in the grasp of the greatest Force which exists in the universe! The force against which there is, and can be no opposition!--a force, which if it once binds even a king--makes of him a life-prisoner, and turns mere "temporal power" to nothingness; upsetting thrones, destroying kingdoms, and beating down the very Church itself in the way of its desires--and that force is--Love!"
She started violently,--then controlled herself.
"You waste your eloquence!" she said coldly; "What you speak of, I do not understand. I do not believe in Love!"
"Or jealousy?"
The words sprang from his lips almost unconsciously, and like a magnificent animal who has been suddenly stung, she sprang upright.
"How dare you!" she said in low, vibrating accents--"How dare you!"
Sir Roger"s breath came quick and fast,--but he was a strong man with a strong will, and he maintained his att.i.tude of quiet resolution.
"Madam!--My Queen!--forgive me!" he said; "But as your humblest friend--your faithful servant!--let me have my say with you now--and then--if you will--condemn me to perpetual silence! You despise Love, you say! Yes--because you have only seen its poor imitations! The King"s light gallantries,--his sins of body, which in many cases are not sins of mind, have disgusted you with its very name! The King has loved--or can love--so you think,--many, or any, women! Ah! No--no! Pardon me, dearest Majesty! A man"s desire may lead him through devious ways both vile and vicious,--but a man"s _love_ leads only one way to one woman!
Believe it! For even so, I have loved one woman these many years!--and even so--I greatly fear--the King loves one woman now!"
Rigid as a figure of marble, she looked at him. He met her eyes calmly.
"Your Majesty asked me for the truth;" he said; "I have spoken it!"
Her lips parted in a cold, strained little smile.
"And--you--think," she said slowly; "that I--I am what you call "jealous" of this "one woman"? Had jealousy been in my nature, it would have been provoked sufficiently often since my marriage!"
"Madam," responded Sir Roger humbly; "If I may dare to say so to your Majesty, it is not possible to a n.o.ble woman to be jealous of a man"s mere humours of desire! But of Love--Love, the crown, the glory and supremacy of life,--who, with a human heart and human blood, would not be jealous? Who would not give kingdoms, thrones, ay, Heaven itself, if it were not in itself Heaven, for its rapturous oblivion of sorrow, and its full measure of joy!"
A dead silence fell between them, only disturbed by a small silver chime in the distance, striking midnight.
The Queen again seated herself, and drew her book towards her. Then raising her lovely unfathomable eyes, she looked at the tall stately figure of the man before her with a slight touch of pity and pathos.
"Possibly you may be right," she said slowly, "Possibly wrong! But I do not doubt that you yourself personally "feel" all that you express,--and--that you are faithful!"
Here she extended her hand. Sir Roger bowed low over it, and kissed its delicate smoothness with careful coldness. As she withdrew it again, she said in a low dreamy, half questioning tone:
"The woman"s name is Lotys?"