“Straight to the ballroom,” replied the King, “to see this Comte de la Seine and have the truth.”
“Now, Sire?”
“Yes, now at once.”
The King turned abruptly, and, closely followed by the chamberlain, made for the ballroom, where the dancing was in full progress; but the Comte was not leading one of the brightest ladies of the Court through the mazes of gavotte or minuet, and as the King turned angrily to his chamberlain it was to find him in close converse with one of the gentlemen in attendance.
“The Comte made the excuse of a bad headache, Sire, some few minutes back, and retired to his apartments with his suite,” whispered Hurst.
“Then I am afraid we shall make it worse,” said the King bitterly. “This way, Hurst; I must have the truth of this before I sleep.” And he strode from the room, closely followed by his companion, to whom in his excitement as he followed the angry lion the movements of the dancers seemed mocking, and the music sounded strange.