When they came to a little turn in one of the paths they beheld ahead of them a very pleasant vista of bare but fresh trees, flecked with sun and covered with splashes and tufts of moss, and on a bench beneath a slender beech a group of youths who were engaged in shooting arrows at a target.
Three of the little company were at the first opening of manhood, two were children. All were unusual in their handsomeness and princely poise as in the richness of their appointments, and four of them were distinguished by a darkness of colouring and vividness of expression commonly associated with the French or Italian, and not likely to be the passport to popularity in England; the fifth and youngest was a beautiful, grave child of eight, or so, with bright complexion and golden auburn hair, who, leaning against the tree, handed to the others the arrows out of a quiver of gilded leather.
His dress heightened his look of fairness, for it was light blue, and the sun fell full over him while the others were in shade and darkly though magnificently attired.
The other child was a lad a year or two older, of no particular beauty, but of a nimble and sprightly appearance, whose irregular features were lit by a pair of very handsome, eloquent, black eyes; seated at the end of the bench, he was at the moment practising his skill at archery and was tugging at a great bow that was almost too stubborn for his strength.
The three young men who were gathered round him, directing and instructing, were obviously brothers; all three of a splendid presence and all characterized by an air of recklessness, arrogance, and a certain rude pride, and one was a youth who would have been distinguished in any company for his extreme handsomeness and his animated, flamboyant personality.
It was he who, with the quickness that accompanied all his motions, turned at the first footfall he heard and discerned the King. At the sight of His Majesty the sport ended, and the young men rose, laughing; but the fair child, with a certain prim absorption, busied himself in putting the arrows away, and never looked up from his task.
"The bow is too strong for Charles," said the handsome youth with a strong foreign accent.
"Get thee a smaller one," answered the King, smiling at his eldest son, who had cast the bow down with a good-natured grimace.
"Nay, sire," replied the Prince of Wales, "it is a play that groweth old-fashioned. I will practise the sword."
At this the fair boy glanced up from the quiver he was filling.