But Gretchen was mine!
The King was dressed in a military blouse, and, save for the small
cross suspended from his neck by a chain of gold, there was nothing
about him to distinguish his rank. He strode back and forth, sometimes
going the whole length of the white room. The Chancellor sat at a long
mahogany table, and the Prince and Mr. Wentworth were seated at either
side of him. The innkeeper stood before the Chancellor, at the
opposite side of the table. His face might have been cut from granite,
it was so set and impressive. I leaned over the back of a chair in the
rear of the room. The King came close to me once and fixed his keen
blue eyes on mine.
"Was this the fellow, Prince," he asked, "who caused you all the
trouble and anxiety?"
I felt uneasy. My experience with Kings was not large.
"No, Your Majesty," answered the Prince. "The gentleman to whom you
refer has departed the scene." The Prince caught the fire in my eye,
and laughed softly.
"Ah," said the King, carelessly. "It is a strange story. Proceed,"
with a nod to the Chancellor.
"What is your name?" the Chancellor asked, directing his glance at the
innkeeper.
Pages:
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291