We were abashed before her reproof and
took her indignation as deserved. We hung our heads, and Sapt's
shame betrayed itself in the dogged sullenness of his answer.
"He has chosen to go walking, madam, and to go alone. He ordered
us--I say, he ordered us not to come. Surely we are right to obey
him?" The sarcastic inflection of his voice conveyed his opinion
of the queen's extravagance.
"Obey him? Yes. You couldn't go with him if he forbade you. But
you should follow him; you should keep him in sight."
This much she spoke in proud tones and with a disdainful manner,
but then came a sudden return to her former bearing. She held out
her hands towards me, wailing:
"Fritz, where is he? Is he safe? Find him for me, Fritz; find
him."
"I'll find him for you if he's above ground, madam," I cried, for
her appeal touched me to the heart.
"He's no farther off than the gardens," grumbled old Sapt, still
resentful of the queen's reproof and scornful of the woman's
agitation. He was also out of temper with Rudolf himself, because
the moon took so long in deciding whether she would make or
unmake a king.
"The gardens!" she cried. "Then let us look for him. Oh, you've
let him walk in the gardens alone?"
"What should harm the fellow?" muttered Sapt.
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