His countenance expressed nothing but pride, which was, however, tempered by a certain calm tolerance; his brow was low and broad, the nose short, blunt, and clearly cut, the mouth large, curved, and mobile, the chin rounded, the face wide, the eyes very handsome, of a pure blue free from any admixture of gray and well-set under heavy arching brows; these eyes were full of a serenity that was almost a blankness, a look curious and not altogether either amiable or attractive; there was something about the young man’s whole appearance that was strange, something difficult, perhaps impossible, to describe.
Count Piper, who had observed him long and closely, had once said to himself, “Karl is like an animal—or a god,” which he felt to be a foolish comparison, yet knew that it expressed that peculiar impression made by the King—an impression that whatever he was he was not ordinary humanity—scarcely humanity at all, but something beyond, or, at least outside, manhood.
Yet now he was ordinary enough in his clothes torn by the violence of the chase and stained by the blood of the animals whom he had slain, his strength and his wits alike beyond his control through the wine he had drunk.
His hair, which was light brown and very thick, hung in a quantity of loosely entwined curls, through those on his shoulders was tied a long black ribbon; the front locks hung down either side his cheeks and across his forehead into his strange eyes.
His grandmother looked at him with less curiosity and less friendliness than did Count Piper.
“It is as well that I did not bid your sisters dine with us to-day,” she said, as she saw the King fill his glass with a strong shaking hand.
He drank his wine and then stared at her; in silence he set the beaker down, and then laughed in a way that curled his mouth unpleasantly.
It was remarkable how his personality even now, when he was not master of himself, seemed to fill the room, making the other two people and the whole surrounding but a background to his fierce young figure.
Dish after dish was removed; only the Queen ate, as if she disdained to be disturbed.
“Your Majesty enjoyed the chase?” asked Count Piper suddenly; he wiped his mouth with his napkin, using a precise movement.