In less than a month after the eighteenth birthday of the Princess came the night of June nineteenth. The country knew that King William was dying. The Royal Life Guards were at their barracks, but not to sleep. The sentries were doubled. Every horse was saddled, and by it stood its master, ready to race to Windsor to guard the lifeless body of the King, or to gallop to Kensington to escort the girl Queen to her throne.
All that night the officers sat in the messroom and talked of the Princess.
"I saw her on horseback," said one. "She rides superbly, but she looks like a child."
"The Duke of Sussex says the little ones have the brains," remarked another.
"She's a queen, every inch of her," one declared, "and I tell you that England is going to be greater than it ever was before. She's a soldier's daughter, too. King William was a sailor. He could not have held a review to save his--What's that?" The young man broke off abruptly, for the gallop of a horse was heard in the courtyard. There was dead silence in the messroom. In a few minutes the Colonel entered. He held up his hand for attention, but he did not need to do this, for every ear was strained.
"Gentlemen," he said, "King William is dead. Let us drink to the health of the Queen. God save the Queen!"
Early in the morning the Life Guards were ordered to go, part of them to Windsor to do honor to the dead King, part of them to Kensington to do honor to the young Queen.
Meanwhile the Archbishop of Canterbury and Lord Conyngham, the Lord Chamberlain, had been driving at full speed from Windsor to Kensington. Not a person was stirring about the palace, and the only sound heard was the singing of birds. The two men rang, but there was no response. They knocked, they thumped, and they pounded. Finally a very sleepy porter opened the gate and let them into one of the lower rooms of the palace. No one came to them, and at last they rang for a servant.
"Tell the attendant of the Princess Victoria," said the Lord Chamberlain, "that we have come to see her on business of the utmost importance."
The servant withdrew, but no one appeared. They rang again, and at last the attendant of the Princess came to them.
"The Princess Victoria is sleeping," she said, "and she must not be awakened."