CHAPTER XLIII.
THE KING OF ROME.
The emperor, with a joyful exclamation, turned toward the door. On its threshold stood a boy of remarkable beauty, such as Correggio or Murillo would have selected as a cherub model. His slender but vigorous form was clothed in sky-blue velvet, embroidered with silver, and his fairy-like feet wore shoes of the same color. His dimpled arms were bare, and a fleece of golden ringlets fell on his fair neck and shoulders. An ingenuousness, undeformed by bad training, increased the charm of his natural beauty. There was nothing affected in his blooming face; and, while a happy temper played about his lips, there was a light in his large blue eyes, reminding the beholder of his great father, from whom he also inherited a forehead which, when the attractions of his childhood had passed away, would at once assert his manly gravity and thought.
Behind the boy appeared the dignified form of Madame de Montesquiou, his governess, who seemed to take pains to keep back the boy, and, seizing his hand, hastily whispered a few words to him. But he forcibly disengaged himself, and, without noticing any one but the emperor, rushed toward him with open arms. "Papa," he cried, in an imploring tone—"papa, have you not given me permission to come to you at any time?"
"Yes, sire," said the emperor, tenderly, lifting him into his arms, "and the proof of it is that you are here."
"Well, dear 'Quiou," asked the boy, in a triumphant tone, turning toward Madame de Montesquiou—"did I not tell you so?—The usher would not admit me, papa, though I told him I am the King of Rome!"
"He ran away from me," said the governess, "in the first anteroom, and so fast that I could not follow him."
"It was because I wanted to see my dear papa emperor," cried the child, fixing his eyes with an expression of indescribable tenderness on his father.
"But that was the reason, sire," said the governess, "why the usher would not immediately open the door to you. He did not know whether he was allowed to do so, and waited, therefore, until I came."
"But why did he not know that he was allowed to do so?" cried the little king, impetuously. "Did I not tell him, 'I WILL it, I am the King of Rome?' Pray tell me, papa emperor, do not the ushers obey you either when you say, 'I will it?'"