He moved towards the door and she sprang up.
"Oh," she exclaimed, in a tone of horror, "this may be our last meeting!"
Charles turned, startled.
"Dear God forbid!" he cried.
"If—the worst cometh—if I go to France—ah, when shall I again behold you?"
"Hast thou also evil premonitions?" asked the King, with a shudder.
She controlled herself.
"No," she replied through stiff lips. "No—no—but many thoughts press on my heart, and I am weak of late."
Indeed, she felt all her limbs tremble, so that they would no longer support her, and she sat down on the couch again, cold from head to foot.
Charles stood beside her, gazing with the soul's deepest passion of love and anguish at her bowed dark head.