“My God!” said she, under her breath; “’tis the King himself!”

His Majesty accompanied by a number of gentlemen in waiting, entered the room.  He appeared in high, good humour, and inclined to be facetious.  He advanced straight to her.  She, hardly rising from the stool, made a deep curtesy.  It was well done, without disarranging the full folds of her stiff brocade, that inclined to stand whether she so honoured the King or not.  He laid his hand familiarly upon her shoulder, bearing somewhat upon it, until she turned quite red, either from his intent or her own guilt.

“We are looking for secrets.  Hast thou any, my little beauty?”

“Your Majesty doth honour me greatly; first by thy presence and secondly by thy thought that I might have a secret—­as if woman could keep even the shade of one from her King!”

“But sometimes there is more happiness in the shade than in the substance.”  His keen eyes did not leave her face.  But hers were turned with an apprehensive stare upon the King’s gentlemen, who were looking and prying impudently here and there about the rooms and closets.  Her gowns were even pressed here and there among their paddings.  Tables and cabinets were opened; the bed was examined.  They lifted the heavy valance and one got upon his knees and prodded beneath with his sword.  As he withdrew with a very red face, some one shook the curtains with such vigour the tester miscarried and down rolled, one by one, the cocoanuts.  The King fairly yelled with laughter, holding on to his sides, his gentlemen joining him with mirth restrained somewhat by the seriousness of the case.

“Indeed, the young Duchess hath turned all heads by her gorgeous beauty, and all would be like her, whether or no!” said the King between great bursts of laughter.  Lady Constance’ mind was ready and caught quickly at his words, and she turned to him with a gay laugh that somewhat veiled her terrible fear and nervousness.

“Indeed, ’tis the fashion to use the cocoanut milk for drinking and ointment, and the silly wenches of maids doth steal it dreadfully and I was compelled to hide them.”

“But ’twill do thee no good, ’tis not thy nature to be round.  Hast thou seen the young heir?  He is a lusty fellow; and ’tis well worth a journey to the nursery to see him,” and he took her hand and raised her to her feet.  “Come, we will go and call upon his lordship.”

There was an agonized expression on Constance’ face as she was compelled to move at the King’s bidding.  Slowly she moved.  It seemed every motion was full of painful effort.  All eyes, for some unaccountable reason, appeared to turn to the train of her dress that rustled subtlely; even Constance turned to look back and down with bulging eyes on that silken train, and though she moved ever so cautiously the bristling folds caught upon the edge of the stool and turned it over, the cocoanuts, poison bottle and all falling a-sprawl.  The King bent down and picked up the vial, then dropped it quickly, saying,—­