It was nearly midnight. At last the great work of getting ready for the wedding was all done. In spite of Princess Sophronia putting herself in charge, the Lord Chamberlain was now quietly going round to the heads of the different departments of the Royal Household to make sure that everything was complete and nothing overlooked. Of this all were heartily glad. For they were only awaiting his final inspection before going to bed. Tomorrow, the great day itself, would be a long one, they knew; and everybody wanted to get a good sleep before the gaieties began.
Giles was the last to go off duty and retire to his rooms. He could rest now, certain that nothing was lost or missing. But in spite of all the running round that he had done, he found he was not sleepy. Instead of getting into bed he threw open the window and sat down in a chair before it. The cool night air was soothing. But his mind would not stop working; it was full of worrisome ideas.
So, he thought, Barbara would be Queen tomorrow.—No, today, for it was now past midnight. He would have to see more of her now, whether he wished it or no. After her coronation she would sit on a throne beside the King and be with him constantly. Would he himself be able to talk to Her Majesty like any of the other knights about the Court? And the King? Would the close friendship between him and his Finder be the same, now that he had a wife claiming his attention and sharing his plans? No, whichever way it was looked at, this marriage must make a big difference to them all. It would be better if he, Giles, went away now for a spell. For the present, he feared he could not bear to see them together all the time. At the Court it would not be possible to keep away from the King, as before he had been able to keep away from the Countess. Now they would be together; and he would have to be in attendance on them every day.
Yes—he got up and paced the floor as the idea grew in his mind—yes, that was the best plan. He needed a change. It was a good time too, this, to ask permission to go on leave. For almost nine years he had been at his master’s side with barely a break. The King would surely let him take a holiday. He would make a visit to his own town, his home. His parents, after all this time, would be glad to see him, their son, now grown into a man. And then Luke?—Should he take him too?
He paused in his restless walk, wondering if Luke were still awake. The room had three doors to it: one that opened on the tower stairs, another that shut off Luke’s bedroom, and a third leading through a short passage to the King’s apartments. This, tonight, was ajar; and Giles saw the light of a candle showing dimly behind it. He knew that His Majesty had not yet come to bed, for he had seen him a little while since going towards the palace chapel with the Queen Mother. The grooms were probably asleep within, waiting for their master to retire. In the whole castle there was not a sound.
On tiptoe Giles had started towards Luke’s room when he heard footsteps coming up the tower stairs. It sounded like several people, hurrying—but softly, without clatter. He watched the latch as it was lifted carefully from outside. Then the door silently flew open and two soldiers of the guard, with lanterns in their hands, stepped into the room.
They at once made way for those that followed: the King himself; the Queen Mother weeping and clinging to his arm; and behind her, her Lady-in-Waiting, Anne.
The King’s face looked like a ghost’s. With a quick whispered command he dismissed the men-at-arms, bidding them leave their lanterns and to shut the door behind them. He motioned to Anne to close the entrance to his own rooms. The Queen Mother sank into a chair sobbing softly.
The whole mysterious business puzzled Giles completely. But, with the others present he asked no questions. He stood where they had found him, respectfully waiting for his master to speak first. For a little, the King’s face moved and twisted in a dreadful way, like someone choking for breath and words together.
‘Giles,’ he gasped out at last, ‘I come to beg of you the greatest thing I have ever asked of any man—the most sacred task your service to me has ever been called upon to carry out. The Countess Barbara has disappeared, gone!—And you must find her. You must, you must.’
He moved a step nearer and his clenched hands rose trembling in the air above his head. The Queen glanced nervously towards the door as his words grew louder.
‘She’s gone, Giles!’ The King’s voice broke down again to a choking whisper. ‘You must find her for me.—Find her and bring her back!’