"SO FOR A HEARTBEAT SHE SAW HIM" Painting by Howard Pyle
The nuns, her present guardians, would have declared the ensuing action horrific, for Katharine smiled frankly at him and demanded how he could be certain of this.
He answered slowly: "I have seen your portrait. Hah, your portrait!" he jeered, head flung back and big teeth glinting in the sunlight. "There is a painter who merits crucifixion."
She considered this indicative of a cruel disposition, but also of a fine taste in the liberal arts. Aloud she stated:
"You are not a Frenchman, messire. I do not understand how you can have seen my portrait."
The man stood for a moment twiddling the fox-brush. "I am a harper, my Princess. I have visited the courts of many kings, though never that of France. I perceive I have been woefully unwise."
This trenched upon insolence—the look of his eyes, indeed, carried it well past the frontier—but she found the statement interesting. Straightway she touched the kernel of those fear-blurred legends whispered about her cradle and now clamant.
"You have, then, seen the King of England?"
"Yes, Highness."
"Is it true that he is an ogre—like Agrapard and Angoulaffre of the Broken Teeth?"