"I remember you very well, now," he adds,
rapidly, in French to the younger man. While the King was speaking,
Calvert noticed with a glance the heavy, harassed expression of Louis's
face. The eyes, which had once been benign and rather stupid, had now a
haunted, suspicious look in them. While he was yet bowing, and before he
could form a reply to the King's remarks, the Queen entered rapidly from
an adjoining apartment. Calvert felt a shock, a thrill of pity, as he
looked at her Majesty. A dozen fateful years seemed to have rolled over
that countenance, so lovely when last he had seen it. Though she still
held herself proudly, the animation and beauty of face and figure had
vanished. The large blue eyes were tired and red with weeping, the
complexion had lost its brilliancy, and the fair hair was tinged with
gray. History hath made it out that the Queen's hair whitened in a
single night of her captivity, but it had already begun to lose its
golden color before the days of the Temple, and the lock which she
shortly after this sent to Calvert, in token of her appreciation of his
services, was thickly streaked with white.
Pages:
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429