She handed me another cup.
In fancy, after a lapse of sixty years, I can still see her angelic face—still hear that charming voice, whose entreaties were more than commands.
I leant my gun against the trunk of a tree, rushed to the fountain, and brought back the two cups filled with the sparkling water, which, through my rapidity, had not had time to lose its freshness.
The Dauphin and Madame Royale shared one cup between them.
Madame Elizabeth, after offering the other cup to the Queen, who refused it, drank it herself.
“Oh, what delicious water it is,” cried the Dauphin. “Why does the world drink aught else?”
“Because they have drinks they like better,” replied the King.
“My son thanks you, sir,” said the Queen.
“I also thank you,” said Madame Elizabeth, with her sweet smile.
I seized my gun, which had been left at the foot of a tree.