It was more interesting riding thus alone, for I heard the comments of
the crowd.
"He looks paler than his wont," said one.
"You'd look pale if you lived as he does," was the highly disrespectful
retort.
"He's a bigger man than I thought," said another.
"So he had a good jaw under that beard after all," commented a third.
"The pictures of him aren't handsome enough," declared a pretty girl,
taking great care that I should hear. No doubt it was mere flattery.
But, in spite of these signs of approval and interest, the mass of
the people received me in silence and with sullen looks, and my dear
brother's portrait ornamented most of the windows--which was an ironical
sort of greeting to the King. I was quite glad that he had been spared
the unpleasant sight. He was a man of quick temper, and perhaps he would
not have taken it so placidly as I did.
At last we were at the Cathedral. Its great grey front, embellished
with hundreds of statues and boasting a pair of the finest oak doors in
Europe, rose for the first time before me, and the sudden sense of my
audacity almost overcame me. Everything was in a mist as I dismounted. I
saw the Marshal and Sapt dimly, and dimly the throng of gorgeously robed
priests who awaited me. And my eyes were still dim as I walked up the
great nave, with the pealing of the organ in my ears.
Pages:
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56