r bewilder him.

(IV)

It was on the following morning that he spoke with the King.

The two priests had said Mass in their oratory, and an hour later
were walking in the park beneath the palace windows.

It was one more of that string of golden days, of which they had
already enjoyed so many, and the splendour of that amazing
landscape was complete.

They had passed below the enclosure known as the "King's Garden,"
and were going in the direction of the Trianon, which Monsignor
had expressed a desire to see, and had just emerged into the
immense central avenue which runs straight from the palace to the
lake. Above them rose the forest trees, enormous now, yet tamed
by Lenotre's marvellous art, resembling a regiment of giants
perfectly drilled; the grass was like carpets on all sides; the
sky blazed like a blue jewel overhead; the noise of singing birds
and falling water was in the air. But above all there towered on
their right, beyond the almost endless terraces, the splendid
palace of the kings of France, royal at last once more. And
there, as symbol of the Restoration, there hung round the
flagstaff as he had seen it yesterday the blue folds and the
lilies of the monarchy.

It was no good trying to frame words as to what he felt. He had
said all he could, and it was useless. Father Jervis seemed
unable to understand the fierce enthusiasm of a man who now
experienced all this, as it appeared, for the first time. He
walked silently--exulting.

There seemed not many people abroad this morning. The two had
presented an order, obtained through Monsignor Allet, at the gates
below the Orange Gardens, and had learned from the sentry that
until the afternoon this part of the park was closed to the public.
Here and there, however, in the distance a single figure made its
appearance, walking in the shade or hurrying on some errand.

The priests had just come out from the line of trees and had
set foot in the avenue itself, when, twenty yards farther up,
from the entrance to some other path parallel to their own, a
group came out, and an instant later they heard themselves
hailed and saw Monsignor Allet himself, in all his purple,
hurrying towards them.

"You are the very men," he cried, again stretching out his
hands in a welcoming French gesture. "His Majesty was speaking
of you not five minutes ago. He is here, in the garden. Shall I
present you now?"

Father Jervis glanced at his friend.

"His Majesty