A candle of coarse tallow on a black table lighted up the handsome and resigned face of the king and that of his faithful retainer, far less calm.
From time to time Parry stopped, thinking the king, whose eyes were closed, was really asleep, but Charles would open his eyes and say with a smile:
“Go on, my good Parry, I am listening.”
Groslow advanced to the door of the king’s room, replaced on his head the hat he had taken off to receive his guests, looked for a moment contemptuously at this simple, yet touching scene, then turning to D’Artagnan, assumed an air of triumph at what he had achieved.
“Capital!” cried the Gascon, “you would make a distinguished general.”
“And do you think,” asked Groslow, “that Stuart will ever escape while I am on guard?”
“No, to be sure,” replied D’Artagnan; “unless, forsooth, the sky rains friends upon him.”
Groslow’s face brightened.
It is impossible to say whether Charles, who kept his eyes constantly closed, had noticed the insolence of the Puritan captain, but the moment he heard the clear tone of D’Artagnan’s voice his eyelids rose, in spite of himself.
Parry, too, started and stopped reading.