"I will awaken her presently, for here is the casket coming."
In fact the messenger was arriving with the small box which he handed to the King. He nodded his satisfaction and the officer went out.
"Sire, it is my casket: but I would remark that it contains papers damning to the countess and----"
"Carry it away unopened, sir," said the monarch coldly. "Do not awaken the lady here, I detest shrieks, groans, noise."
"She will awaken wherever you suggest her removal."
"In the Queen's apartments will be best."
"Awaken in fifteen minutes," ordered the mesmerizer to the lady.
Two guardsmen entered and carried out the countess, seated on the chair.
"My lady fainted here," said the King to the officer, "bear her to the Queen."
"What can I do for you, Dr. Gilbert?" he asked when they were alone.
"I wish to be honorary house physician to your Majesty. It is a position which will do nobody umbrage and is more of trust than emolument and lustre."
"Granted! Good-by, Dr. Gilbert. Remind me affectionately to Necker. Bring me supper," he added, for nothing could make the King forget a meal.
While the King was learning to fight Revolution like a philosopher, and recreate himself with a spiritualistic seance, the Queen was rallying the combative around her in her rooms.
She sat at a table, with priests, courtiers, generals and her ladies surrounding her. At the doorways young officers, full of ardor and courage, rejoiced in the riots which gave them a chance to show their military gifts as at a tourney under view of their queens of beauty.
The Queen was no longer the sweet girl whom we saw in our work entitled "Balsamo the Magician," or the fair princess who went to Mesmer's Baths, with Princess Lamballe: but the haughty and imperious Queen who was neither Marie Antoinette, nor Queen of France, but the Austrian Eagless.
She looked up as Prince Lambesq arrived, dusty, splashed, his boots torn and his sabre bent so as not to be sheathed properly.
"Well, my lord," she said, "You come from Paris. What are the people doing?"
"Nay, prince," she replied, after meditating: "the people are not ferocious. Hide nothing from me. Is it delirium or hate?"
"I believe it is hate at the point of delirium."
"What does it matter?" said Dreux Breze, stepping forward. "The people may hate any one, saving your Majesty."