“Excuse me, then, colonel, but my orders are positive.”
“But they cannot concern a prince. Come, sir, a prince cannot be kept out.”
“My prince, I am in despair, but the king has ordered——”
“The king has ordered you to turn away his brother like a beggar or a robber? I am the Comte d’Artois, sir. Mordieu! you keep me here freezing at the door.”
“Monseigneur, God is my witness that I would shed my blood for your royal highness. But the king gave me his orders in person, and confiding to me the charge of this door, ordered me not to open to any one, should it be even himself, after eleven o’clock. Therefore, monseigneur, I ask your pardon humbly for disobeying you, but I am a soldier, and were it her majesty the queen who asked admittance, I should be forced most unwillingly to refuse.”
Having said this, the officer turned away and left the place.
“We are lost,” said the queen.
“Do they know that you are out?” asked the count.
“Alas, I know not!”
“Perhaps, then, this order is leveled against me; the king knows I often go out at night, and stay late. Madame la Comtesse d’Artois must have heard something, and complained to him, and hence this tyrannical order.”