“Sir Roger, speak plainly,” she said, “and speak the truth! Some little time ago you said it was wrong for me to shut out from my sight, my heart, my soul, the ugly side of Nature. I have remedied that fault! I am looking at the ugly side of Nature now,—in myself! The rebellious side—the passionate, fierce, betrayed side! I trusted you with the safety of the King!”
“Madam, he is safe!” said Sir Roger quietly;—“I can guarantee upon my life that he is with those who will defend him far more thoroughly than I could ever do! It is better to have a hundred protectors than one!”
“Oh, I know what you would imply!” she answered, impatiently; “I understand, thus far, from what he himself has told me. But—there is something else, something else! Something that portends far closer and more intimate danger to him—”
She paused, apparently uncertain how to go on, and moving back to her chair, sat down.
“If you are the man I have imagined you to be,” she continued, in deliberate accents; “You perfectly know—you perfectly understand what I mean!”
Sir Roger raised his head and looked her bravely in the eyes.
“You would imply, Madam, that one, who like myself has been conscious of a great passion for many years, should be able to recognise the signs of it in others! Your Majesty is right! Once you expressed to me a wonder as to what it was like ‘to feel.’ If that experience has come to you now, I cannot but rejoice,—even while I grieve to think that you must endure pain at the discovery. Yet it is only from the pierced earth that the flowers can bloom,—and it may be you will have more mercy for others, when you yourself are wounded!”
She was silent.
He drew a step nearer.
“You wish me to speak plainly?” he continued in a lower tone. “You give me leave to express the lurking thought which is in your own heart?”