The King pushed back his draggled curls to stare at her, which he did with insolence. Count Piper tried to draw him away; the lady colored till it seemed as if a fire had dyed her in a bright reflection, and hurried away with the haste of shame.
“Viktoria,” said Karl, “she is a pretty creature for a King’s fancy—that woman.” And he spoke so that the object of his speech must have heard.
Count Piper, with greater determination than he had yet shown, dragged at his master’s arm, guided him to his own cabinet, and helped him into a chair there.
Then he closed the door and stood with his back to it; the King stared absently at his clothes stained with blood, and dirt and wine.
CHAPTER II
COUNT PIPER stood looking thoughtfully at the King; he was wondering if the young man was sober enough to make it worth while speaking to him; he doubted this, and yet time was short—a question of hours might decide the fate of Sweden.
Karl sat immovable; across his slightly upturned face fell a pale ray of sun that had faintly penetrated the clouds and entered the small room, and in this light that was so dim as to be almost colorless, the King’s countenance, framed in the loose flowing, light hair, had such a strange effect that it almost startled Count Piper, even though he had known the King from babyhood and daily watched his lineaments. Very obvious now was that inhuman look, a serenity, a reserve that was neither disdain nor secrecy but mere indifferency, a look of something large and noble and cold in the wide, handsome face that did not belong to ordinary mankind.
This was not attractive, this expression, it inspired a certain fear even in one as familiar with it as Count Piper—yet the King was only a haughty boy, soiled from his rough sport and drunk—a boy who had been insolent to his kinswoman and who had insulted his sister’s friend almost in her presence.
“Your Majesty,” said Count Piper, looking away from those calm, blank blue eyes, “will you forgo the chase to-morrow to attend the Council of State?”
The King sighed.