“‘Who knows’—What?” enquired the King, turning his steadfast eyes on Sir Roger.
“Nothing, Sir! Absolutely nothing!” replied the equerry, opening his eyes as widely as their habitual langour would permit; “I am absolutely ignorant of everything concerning Von Glauben except that he is an honest man! That I certainly do know!”
A slight smile cleared away something of the doubt and displeasure on the King’s face. Approaching the disconsolate Professor, he laid one hand on his shoulder and looked him steadily in the eyes.
“By my faith, Von Glauben, if I thought positively that you could play me false in any matter, I would never believe a man again! Come! Forgive my hasty speech, and do not look so downcast! Honest I have always known you to be,—and that you will prove your honesty, I do not doubt! But—there is something in this affair which awakens grave suspicion in my mind. For to-day I press no questions—but to-morrow I must know all! You understand? All! Say this to the girl, Gloria,—say it to her husband also—as, of course, you know who her husband is. If he serves on Prince Humphry’s yacht, that is enough to say that Humphry himself has probably seen her. Under all the circumstances, I confess, my dear Von Glauben, that your presence here is a riddle which needs explanation!”
“It shall be explained, Sir—” murmured the Professor.
“Naturally! It must, of course be explained. But I hope you give me credit for not being altogether a fool; and I have an idea that my son’s frequent mysterious visits to The Islands have something to do with this fair Gloria of Glorias!” Von Glauben started involuntarily. “You perhaps think it too? Or know it? Well, if it is so, I can hardly blame him overmuch,—though I am sorry he should have selected a poor sailor’s wife as a subject for his secret amours! I should have thought him possessed of more honour. However—to-morrow I shall look to you for a full account of the matter. For the present, I excuse your attendance, and permit you to remain with her whom you call ‘princess’!”
He stepped back, and, taking De Launay’s arm, turned round at once, and walked away back to Ronsard’s house by the path he had followed with such eagerness and care.
Von Glauben watched the two tall figures disappear, and then with a troubled look, began to climb slowly up the rocks in the direction where Gloria had gone. His reflections were not altogether as philosophical as usual, because as he said to himself—“One can never tell how a woman is going to meet misfortune! Sometimes she takes it well; and then the men who have ruthlessly destroyed her happiness go on their way rejoicing; but more often she takes it ill, and there is the devil to pay! Yet—Gloria is not like any ordinary woman—she is a carefully selected specimen of her sex, which a kindly Nature has produced as an example of what women were intended to be when they were first created. I wonder where she has hidden herself?”
Arriving at the summit of the ascent, he peered down towards the sea. Slopes of rank grass and sea-daisies tufted the rocks on this side, divided by certain deep hollows which the action of the waves had honeycombed here and there; and below the grass was the shore, powdered thickly with sand, of a fine, light, and sparkling colour, like gold dust. Here in the full light of the sinking sun lay Gloria, her head pillowed against a rough stone, on the top of which a tall cluster of daisies, sometimes called moon-flowers, waved like white plumes.
“Gloria!” called Von Glauben.