"You see, they have put me in prison in the name of the Christian Graces," remarked Gilbert, laughing.
"Oh, I will have this cleared up," said the King, and ringing the bell he bade the servant bring the Countess of Charny into his presence.
Gilbert had retired into a window recess, while the King paced the Bulls-eye Hall, called on account of a round window in the wall, thinking now of public matters, then of his visitor's persistence though nothing but news from Paris ought to have enchained him.
Suddenly the door opened and the lady entered, dressed in the extreme of the showy and fantastic fashion of Marie Antoinette and her court.
She was lovely, this Countess Charny, with a peerless figure and her hand was aristocratic to the utmost with which she played with a small cane.
"She, Andrea Taverney!" muttered Gilbert, involuntarily shrinking behind the curtains.
"My lady, I ask your presence for a little information," began the monarch, seeing nothing of Gilbert's emotion.
"I am ready to satisfy your Majesty." The voice attracted the doctor who came a little forward.
"A week ago, or so, a blank letter under the royal seal was delivered to Minister Necker," went on the King, "for the arrest----"
Gilbert had his eye on the lady, who was pale, feverish and fretful as if bent under the weight of a secret.
"This warrant was applied for by your ladyship and countersigned by the Queen. I say this to refresh your memory. Why do you not say something, countess?"
"It is true, your Majesty," she faltered, in a feverish abstraction, "I wrote for the letter, filled up the blanks, and the Queen backed it."
"Will you please tell me what crime the person committed for whom the measure was taken?" demanded Louis.
"Sire, I may not do that, but I shall say the crime was great."
"Then you should do so to the object," continued the King; "what you refuse the King Louis XVI., you cannot Doctor Gilbert."
He stepped aside to discover the doctor, who opened the curtains and appeared as pale as the staggering lady. She tossed her head backwards as if going to swoon, and only kept her footing by aid of a table. She leaned on it in dull despair, like one whom a snake bite was filling with poison.
"My lady, let me put the question to you which the King addressed," said Gilbert.