The satisfied murmur of the crowd continued.
"Why—is it possible——" cried my lord.
He hastened to seek out the King.
William was in his dressing-room, disrobing. M. Zulestein was with him, and several other nobles.
Gold-embroidered purple, scarlet and ermine, the collar and star of the George lay tossed on one of the gilt walnut chairs; the King, in silk shirt and white satin breeches, sat by a marquetry dressing-table with a letter in his hand.
Sunderland entered as one sure of his welcome. William had promised him countenance if he would come to Court.
"Your Majesty——" he began.
The King looked at him blankly; his face, between the dark curls, was of a startling whiteness.
"Ah, sir," said Sunderland, "do I break in upon Your Majesty?"
"No," answered William vaguely.