“My soul!” murmured the king.
She noticed us all in a moment, and stopped dead.
“Who are you?” she demanded witheringly.
“Angel of my heart, don’t you know your lord?”
She advanced quickly, and whipped him this way and that. He was still in Ascoli’s clothes.
“Is this all they have left of you, you poor rag of royalty?”
He tried a little bluster.
“How now, madam! I adopted it for a disguise.”
“What!” she said, “by revealing yourself? I should have thought that one exposure had been enough.”
“Hush!” he said, perspiring; “there is a witness.”