‘When the King found that I had no further news,’ Luke went on, ‘he grew very solemn and thoughtful. He seemed to be puzzling over something.’
‘Maybe,’ said Anne slowly, ‘he was wondering why Barbara went away—since she wasn’t carried away.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Luke sharply.
‘Oh, look!’ cried Anne, again rushing to the parapet. ‘See, over there, on the other road. Can that be Giles now?’
‘No, it isn’t,’ snapped Luke. ‘It’s a herd of cattle. Do stop jumping about!’
‘Oh, I wish he’d come!’ sighed Anne, sinking back on the seat. ‘You do think he will, don’t you, Luke? There are robbers on those roads, you know.’
‘Of course he’ll come,’ said Luke. ‘He’s able to take care of himself—and Barbara too. Don’t worry. Tell me: what did Doctor Seymour say when he last came from the King’s room?’
‘Oh, a whole lot about vertebrains —or something,’ said Anne. ‘He is not worried over the lump on the temple. It’s the back, he says, will give the most trouble. Badly wrenched—perhaps injured for life. I don’t think much of that old physic-monger. He does a powerful lot of talking, but he doesn’t do anything. And the King is still unconscious. Neither does the Queen Mother, I fancy, place much faith in Seymour. Poor lady! She’s beside herself with worry.’
‘Have all the guests gone yet?’ asked Luke.
‘Almost all,’ said Anne. ‘They have had some sore hurrying to do, to get packed and everything. It was feared that some of them might take offence at being asked to depart at such short notice. But the Queen Mother went round to each one and explained that the King’s accident had put off the wedding—she could not say for how long. She told them that Doctor Seymour had asked for absolute quiet in and around the castle. I must say they all behaved extremely well, expressed their deep regrets and went off as quietly as they could.’