"You are in good spirits, my lord," she said. As Rupert, with clumsy carefulness, was fastening the two frail flowers in his doublet, the King rode into the courtyard, followed by the royal standard.
Charles rode a white horse and was wrapped in a dark blue mantle, an unnatural pallor disfigured his cheek, and an unnatural fire sparkled in his restless eyes; he seemed both melancholy and excited. He did not fail of his usual dignity, however, and though shut within himself in an inner gloom, he acknowledged readily the salutes that greeted him. There was but a scanty crowd, both of citizens and soldiers, nor was there much fervour save among the courtiers and personal friends of the King.
Charles glanced up at the wide, darkening sky across which the mighty clouds were marching, trailing fire in the west, then he turned to Prince Maurice, who rode at his side. "When I was crowned," he said, in a low voice, "they did preach a sermon on this text—'Be thou faithful unto death and I will give thee a crown of life'—and unto death I will be faithful to God, the Church of England, and my rightful royal heritage."
He then rode forward, and amid the music of the drums and trumpets and the shouts of the spectators, the royal standard of England was raised and unfurled as sign and symbol that the King called on all loyal subjects for their service and duty.
Many of the citizens threw up their caps and called out, "Long live King Charles and hang up the Roundheads!" but their cries soon ceased, and all gazed in a mournful silence at the great flag straining now at poles and ropes and flaunting the sunset with bravery of leopards and lilies and the rampant lion—crimson, gold, and blue.
It was the symbol of war—of civil war; when it broke on the evening, then was all hope of peace for ever gone. All argument, appeals to law, to reason, all legal dispute, all compromise, was over now; henceforth the sword would decide.
The sensitive soul of Margaret Lucas was touched by a dreadful grief; she bent on her saddle and wept. There was to her an almost unbearable sadness in the silent appeal of the lonely flag.
The King glanced half-wildly round the little knot of faithful friends gathered about him; a silence had fallen which none seemed ready to break.
Suddenly Charles put out his hand; a drop of rain splashed on the bare palm.
"The storm beginneth," he said, and turned his horse's head towards the castle.