CHAPTER XII. — A SEA PRINCESS
Scarcely had she thus declared herself, when the Bismarckian head and shoulders of Von Glauben appeared above the protecting boulders; and moving with deliberate caution, the rest of his body came slowly after, till he stood fully declared in an attitude of military ‘attention.’ He showed neither alarm nor confusion at seeing the King; on the contrary, the fixed, wooden expression of his countenance betokened some deeply-seated mental obstinacy, and he faced his Royal master with the utmost composure, lifting the slouched hat he wore with his usual stiff and soldierly dignity, though carefully avoiding the amazed stare of his friend, Sir Roger de Launay.
The King glanced him up and down with a smiling air of amused curiosity.
“So this is how you pursue your scientific studies, Professor!” he said lightly; “Well!”—and he turned his eyes, full of admiration, on the beautiful creature who stood silently confronting him with all that perfect ease which expresses a well-balanced mind,—“Wisdom is often symbolised to us as a marble goddess,—but when Pallas Athene takes so fair a shape of flesh and blood as this, who shall blame even a veteran philosopher for sitting at her feet in worship!”
“Pardon me, Sir,” returned Von Glauben calmly; “There is no goddess of Wisdom here, so please you, but only a very simple and unworldly young woman. She is—” Here he hesitated a moment, then went on—“She is merely the adopted child of a fisherman living on these Islands.”
“I am aware of that!” said the King still smiling. “Réné Ronsard is his name. He is my host to-day; and he has told me something of her. But, certes, he did not mention that you had adopted her also!”
Von Glauben flushed vexedly.
“Sir,” he stammered, “I could explain—”