"I will try—indeed I will," he said earnestly.
"Whenever you do, you shall succeed," she answered, nestling to him. "I wish I might shut my eyes and rest here—now that I know."
"Rest, sweet, rest!"
A moment, and then, from far away, a clarion call rang on the still air. With the instinct of the soldier, Gilbert started, and listened, holding his breath, but still pressing the girl close to him.
"What is it?" she asked, half frightened.
It came again, joyous and clear.
"It is nothing," he said. "It is the Christmas banquet, and perhaps the
King drinks the Queen's health—and she his."
"And perhaps, though no one knows it, she—" But Beatrix stopped and laughed. "I will not say it! Why should I care?"
She was thinking that if the Queen drank a health it might be meant, in her heart, for the Guide of Aquitaine, and she nestled closer to him in the sunshine.