CHAPTER XXVII
“Your Majesty——”
The King waved his hand.
“You can leave that out, Brand. Speak to me plainly. You look as though you had something important to say.”
“I have indeed!” Brand answered.
He glanced around cautiously. They were in the chamber used for meetings of the Privy Council—a great room with stained glass windows, fluted pillars supporting a vaulted roof, stone walls, with here and there a covering of tapestry. A collection of ancient arms was hung over the great chimneypiece. In the centre of the floor stood a round table of solid oak. A bad room for confidences this, in which the slightest whisper awoke curious echoes. The King noticed Brand’s hesitation, and divined its cause.
“Come this way, Brand,” he directed. “Reist is close behind. He will keep out all intruders.”
They passed into the King’s private study, a small octagonal room on the ground floor of one of the towers. The King threw himself into an easy-chair, and pointed towards another, but Brand remained standing.