The veteran Prime Minister smiled.
"This is where you begin your triumphant return to your capital, sir," he said. "A great welcome awaits you, between here and the palace. The Cabinet were making the necessary arrangements when I left town this morning. You will permit me to follow you to the carriage, sir?"
People did speak in dreams, then—sometimes—
Mechanically, the King moved slowly along the sunlit road, towards the carriage, followed by the Duke at a distance of some half dozen paces.
An extraordinary dream this, amazingly vivid and minute in its detail; but dream, certainly dream. If only he could awake! Where would he awake? In the palace? In Paradise? He must awake soon—
The King got into the state carriage, and sat down.
The scarlet coated footman, who had held open the carriage door, was about to shut it again—when the King missed the Duke from his side—
A terrifying thrill of loneliness, a horror of his sudden isolation, ran through the King.
He turned hastily.
The Duke was standing, drawn up to his full height, with bared head, a magnificent, a real, a vital figure, in this sunlit world of phantom shadows, some yards away from the carriage.