‘Did they so, George? Is this true?’
‘True as Gospel. That Spaniard, with the red-brown beard, came even to your Majesty’s antechamber, and spoke so loud I thought he’d have awoke you’; nor was Count Boyor much better-mannered——’
‘Come and gone!’ broke in Charles. ‘What falsehoods will grow out of this! You should have told me, Kelly. Health, ease, happiness—I ‘d have sacrificed all to duty. Ay, George, kings have duties like other men. Were there many here?’
‘I never saw one-half the number. The carriages filled the Corso to the Piazza del Popolo. There was not a minister absent.’
‘And of our own people?’
‘They were all here. O’Sullivan, Barra, Clangavin——’
‘Where was Tullybardine?—Ah! I forgot,’ broke in Charles, with a deep sigh. ‘“Here’s to them that are gone,” George, as the old song says. Did they seem dissatisfied at my absence?—how did you explain it?’
‘I said your Majesty was indisposed; that State affairs had occupied you all the preceding night, and that you had at last fallen into a slumber.’
‘Was Glengariff among them?’
‘You forget, sire. We buried him six weeks ago.’