“And,” added the Emperor, “I will give you the sword that her Majesty deems you worthy to wear.”
Going to a cabinet in the room, he unlocked it, and revealed a number of handsome swords suitable for various occasions. Selecting one, a light but elegant blade, he handed it to the Empress Queen with much grace, saying:
“He will value it more from your hand.”
The joy in Gavin’s face when, dropping upon his knee, he received the sword from Maria Theresa transfigured him. It meant honour, glory, the recognition of his honourable birth—all of those things most precious to him and which had seemed so hopelessly far away. He kissed the hilt of the sword reverently as he received it, but he could not speak. He bowed low to the Emperor, and then suddenly turning to St. Arnaud—his happiness overcoming his usually acquired habits of restraint—and seizing him, kissed and hugged him violently.
This natural abandon, which would have offended many sovereigns, touched and also amused the Empress Queen; and when Gavin recovered himself, and stood, blushing and appalled at his breach of etiquette, both Maria Theresa and the Emperor Francis were laughing heartily. The sight of Gavin’s face, flushed and sparkling, his mouth quivering, yet full of smiles, the boyish dimples in his cheek showing, and his lithe, strong body trembling with happiness, appealed to the exquisitely human heart of Maria Theresa. She saw in him a soul capable of the greatest devotion to her.
“Your commission will be sent you to-day, Lieutenant Hamilton,” she said, with an air of the utmost sweetness; “and you, Captain St. Arnaud, will have your wishes fulfilled in any way possible.”
Then, with a graceful bow of dismissal, she rose from her chair. St. Arnaud, with a few appropriate words of gratitude, bowed himself out, followed by Gavin. But before the door closed the Empress Queen and the Emperor heard Gavin’s eager whisper, as he said:
“That noble queen and lady won’t forget us by to-morrow morning, as the King Of Prussia did;” which speech by no means hurt Gavin in the opinion of the imperial pair. Another person that heard him was Count Derschau, who awaited them outside the door.
St. Arnaud was well versed in courts, and foreseeing that Gavin would always be saying and doing unconventional things, he concluded to let the imperial circle understand that the Empress Queen and the Emperor were pleased with Gavin’s naïveté—and when sovereigns are pleased, courtiers dare not find fault. He, therefore, began to tell, in his calm and easy manner, of Gavin’s late behaviour, and their majesties’ reception of it, at which Gavin blushed and Count Derschau shouted with laughter.
They were then passing along a gallery from which they could look down into a large, square room with a polished floor, where the royal children were assembled, with their governess, for their dancing lesson. A couple of fiddlers were turning up, when the door opened and in walked Madame Ziska.