CHAPTER X
THE QUEEN
Dr. Burnet was returning from his diocese of Sarum to Kensington Palace, where he had been called by the grave reports of the Queen's sickness.
On Christmas Day she had been something better, but towards the evening notably worse; on Wednesday prayers were offered in all the churches, and the new primate, Dr. Tenison, was summoned to join the other prelates in attendance at Kensington.
The Bishop of Sarum was joined in London by M. Zulestein, for whom he had a peculiar friendship, and who came to urge haste.
The Master of the Robes hoped that the Bishop's presence might have some effect upon the astonishing and immoderate agitation of the King; he confessed he had been glad to escape from the atmosphere of anxiety and grief at Kensington.
Soldier and priest made a melancholy journey in M. Zulestein's coach. The Capital was very silent and awed. There could be no doubt now that the Queen was beloved.
"If she goes," said M. Zulestein bluntly, "he can never hold the throne. His very title to it would be questioned. Without her where are we all?"
Dr. Burnet answered unsteadily; he was deeply attached to Mary.
"Do not speak like that, sir. She must live—even if it be smallpox, is she not young and strong? Did not the King recover?"