She motioned him back as he would have followed her, and he stood and watched her—his heart in his throat—until she had crossed the moat and been admitted to the Fort—the Lady Margherita—alone—in such a guise—fearless and direct as ever.
Sunrise was just gilding the sea: it flashed and sparkled as if there were no woe.
XXII
The horror of the night still lay over Caterina like a dense pall, clouding her understanding, when the Chief of Council and the Archbishop passed between the guards whom Rizzo had placed to watch within the doors of the Queen's chambers, where, prostrated by anguish and anxiety, one scheme after another for the recovery of her child absorbed her to the exclusion of all other grief. She looked up dumbly as Rizzo and Fabrici drew near her couch—her eyes deep with unspeakable misery.
The Lady Margherita, watching near her, was indignant at the intrusion; she rose and stood before the Queen.
"My Lords, you forget yourselves—Her Majesty hath not summoned you."