His face flushed—his lips quivered.
“As God lives, Madam, I yield to no one in my love and service of you!”
“Then find the King!” and she stretched out her arm with a gesture of authority—“Bring back to me my husband!—the one man of the world!—the one man I have learned to love! Follow the King!—whether on land or sea, whether alive or dead,—in heaven or hell, follow him! Your place is not with me—but by your master’s side! If you know not whither he has fled, make it your business to learn!—and never let me see your face again till his face shines beside yours, like sunshine against darkness!—till his eyes, his smile make gladness where your presence without him is a mocking misery! Out of my sight! And nevermore return again, save in your duty and attendance on the King!”
“Madam,—Madam!” exclaimed Teresa—“Would you condemn my brother to a lasting banishment? What if the King were dead?”
“Dead!” The word left the Queen’s lips in a sharp sob of pain—“The King cannot die!—he is too strong—too bold and brave! He has met death ere now and conquered it! Dead? No—that is not possible—that could not be!”
She turned again upon Sir Roger, standing mute and pale, a very statue of despair.
“I give you a high mission!” she said—“Fulfil it!”
He started from his unhappy reverie.
“Be sure that I will do so!” he said—“I will—as your Majesty bids me—follow the King! And—till the King returns with me—I also say farewell!”
Catching his sister in his arms, he kissed her with a murmured blessing—and profoundly saluting the woman for whose love’s sake his very life was now demanded, he left the room.