Rupert's spirits were ablaze with excitement and satisfaction, he did not even seem to be aware of the general air of depression and apprehension. The King had promised him the command of the cavalry, the most important branch of the army, and to a Prince of his years and temperament, the glory of this was sufficient to obscure everything else.
"Good evening, Sir Charles!" he cried; then his quick eye roved past the youth. "Is not that lady your sister? The likeness is great between you."
"That is indeed Margaret Lucas," replied her brother, "who was visiting near this town, and nothing would satisfy her but joining me to-day in this ceremony."
"I must speak to this loyal lady," smiled the Prince.
He rode up to her and took off his hat, which was heavy with black plumes.
"Would you not know me, Mrs. Lucas," he asked, "that you would stay behind your brother?"
"I would not be uncivil to any, least to a Prince," replied the lady, "but neither would I put my conversation on any man nor be so bold as to look at one unbidden."
"This is a fair sweet loyalist," said Rupert. "Hast thou a cavalier beside the King?"
She looked at him out of untroubled eyes; his bold, hawk-like face, the black eyes, the white teeth flashing in a smile, the waving black hair, the dark complexion above the white collar, and all his attire of scarlet and buff and gold and trappings of war, his great horse, and the background of cannon, halberdiers, and stormy heavens, made a noble and splendid picture.