For a time Marie Antoinette's glance lingered caressingly upon the garden, through whose perfumed alleys the evening wind was rustling with a sweet, low song. The court, following the mood of the queen, kept perfectly silent. Of what were they thinking? that crowd of youthful triflers, so many of whom were hurrying to the bloody destiny which made heroes of coxcombs and heroines of coquettes
Suddenly the expression of the queen's face, which had been thoughtful and solemn, changed to its usual frankness and gayety. "Ladies and gentlemen," said she, in that clear, rich voice of hers, which always reminded one of little silver bells, "I have a riddle to propose."
"A riddle!" echoed the company, crowding around to hear.
"Yes, a riddle, and woe to those who cannot guess it! They will be sentenced to sit up this whole night long. "
"A severe sentence," said the king, with a sigh. "May I not be one of the condemned? Well, then, lovely sphinx, tell us your riddle."
"Listen all!" said Marie Antoinette, "and strain your every faculty to its solution. Princes and princesses, lords and ladies, can you tell me at what hour the sun will rise to-morrow?"
The perplexed company looked at one another. Everybody seemed puzzled except the king. He alone smiled, and watched the countenances of the others.
"Come, gentlemen, you who are fed on the sciences—come, ladies you so expert to guess—will none of you solve my riddle?" tried the lively queen. "You, brother Philip, who know all things, have you never asked this question of the sun?"
"I interest myself, dear sister, in matters which concern myself, my family, and France," replied the Count de Provence, not over-pleased at the appeal. "The sun, which belongs to another world, has no share in my studies or my meditations."
"Condemned," said the queen, with a merry laugh. "No sleep for you tonight. And you, brother d'Artois, who are such a devotee of beauty, have you never worshipped at the shrine of solar magnificence?"