CHAPTER XIV.—The King Explains.
THE first who recovered his voice and presence of mind was Benson.
“Did your lordship ring for coffee?” he asked, quietly; and when he was told “Yes,” he bowed and withdrew, with majestic composure. When he had gone, the prince threw himself at the king’s feet, crying:
“Pardon, pardon, my liege!” “Don’t speak to me, sir!” answered the king, very angrily; and the poor prince threw himself at the feet of the queen.
But she took no notice of him whatever, no more than if he had been a fairy; and the prince heard her murmur, as she pinched her royal arms:
“I shall waken presently; this is nothing out of the way for a dream. Dr. Rumpfino ascribes it to imperfect nutrition.”
All this time, the Lady Rosalind, as pale as a marble statue, was leaning against the side of the open window. The prince thought he could do nothing wiser than go and comfort her, so he induced her to sit down on a chair in the balcony,—for he felt that he was not wanted in the drawing-room;—and soon they were talking happily about the stars, which had begun to appear in the summer night.
Meanwhile, the ambassador had induced the king to take a seat; but there was no use in talking to the queen.