"'I am not so young or as light-footed as I used to be. Will one of you lend me a hand?'
"A hundred hands were extended, and then, hatless as he was, he leapt down into the courtyard among his subjects, as much at home and with as little fear as if he were among a crowd of sightseers on a race-course or at a review.
"At the words and at the action, there arose such a cheer as London has never heard before, and though some traitors there were, who murmured among themselves, and looked at him darkly, not one of them dared raise hand against the Sovereign, knowing that to do so would be the signal for the people to tear the traitor limb from limb.
"The rebellion is over, Kate. The King himself, as I have said, gave it the death-blow. Before I left the Palace, the people had thrown down their arms to a man, and all London is ringing on every hand with the cry 'God save the King!'"
"Thank God!" she said, "for the King's sake and the people's. But hush, Max! What is that shouting in the street? It is coming nearer. Pray God the rioting has not broken out again."
"I have no fear of that," I said. "But come, dear, let us see."
Together we walked to the window. The shouting and cheering in the street were terrific, but this was no disloyal mob—these were no revolutionaries. They were cheering a gentleman who, unattended, and without escort, was riding slowly by in an open carriage.
"It is the King!" Kate gasped.
"Yes," I said. "It is the kingliest ruler, the bravest man, the truest gentleman in Christendom!"
And raising the window, she and I stepped out hand in hand upon the balcony, to join in the jubilation and welcome that rose from a thousand throats in a roar louder than the roar of the central seas.