Charles hastily turned his head.
Lord Falkland and John Pym were approaching. The King seated himself and pulled his hat over his eyes as if to conceal the confusion in his countenance when he found himself face to face with the man whom he regarded as his minister's murderer, and Rupert, leaning against the tree, folded his arms on his broad chest in an attitude of contempt and defiance.
The four men made a strange opposition when they came together: the refined sweetness and gentle bearing of the English noble contrasting with the coarse beauty and bold demeanour of the foreign prince, and the severe deportment and graceful figure of the King opposed to the bent form, simple attire, and quiet carriage of the parliamentary leader.
Both men had approached this interview with reluctance and a sense of hopelessness; Pym, because he thought that it would be impossible to force the King to sincerity, and the King, because he thought it would be impossible to bend or break Pym.
Charles gave no immediate answer to Lord Falkland's presentation, and made not the least effort to appear gracious. He and Pym were not strangers to each other; there had been a time, years ago, when it had seemed as if the famous lawyer might be one of those advising and guiding the King.
"Sir," said Charles at length, "I know not why I have chosen to see you here, save that the day is fair and we can talk here under the sky as well as under a ceiling."
"Sir," replied John Pym simply, "I have been mewed up so much of late that I am very glad to be in a pleasant place of green."
"Give us leave, my lord," said Charles, "and you, Rupert, we have to confer with this our faithful subject."
The King's cold sarcasm was not lost on John Pym, whose lips curved into a faint quiet smile, nor on the two young men, one of whom heard with vexation, the other with considerable amusement.
Rupert would, indeed, have liked to have stayed and helped bait and annoy a man whom he regarded as only fit for the branding, the mutilation, the pillory, and the fine which had been the fate of William Prynne a few years earlier, but he bowed to the King's decision and moved away with the Viscount.