He was in misery; he wanted to be alone.
"Long live her majesty!" thundered the chancellor. He, too, was pale,
but the fire of great things burned in his eyes and his lank form took
upon itself a transient majesty.
In the ball-room the princess was surrounded; everybody flattered her;
congratulated her, and complimented her. All agreed that it was a great
political stroke. And indeed it was, but none of them knew how great.
Carmichael was among the last to approach her. By this time he had his
voice and nerves under control. Without apparent volition they walked
down the stairs which led to the conservatory.
"I thought perhaps you had forgotten me," she said.
[Illustration: "I thought you had forgotten me," she said.]
"Forget your highness? Do not give me credit for such an impossibility."
He bowed over her hand and brushed it with his lips, for she was almost
royal now. "Your highness will be happy. It is written." He stepped back
slowly.
"Have you the gift of prescience?"
"In this instance. You will be a great queen."
"Who knows?" dreamily. "When I recall what I have gone through, all this
seems like an enchantment out of a fairy-book, and that I must soon wake
up in my garret in Dresden."
If only it might be an enchantment! he thought.
Pages:
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104