The King then held out his hand for Monsieur Maurice to kiss, which he did
on bended knee, and so went out from the royal presence, a free man.
Half an hour later, he and I were strolling hand in hand under the trees.
His step was slow, and the hand that held mine had grown sadly thin and
transparent.
"Let us sit here awhile, and rest," he said, as we came to the bench by the
fountain.
I reminded him that we had sat and rested in the same spot the very last
time we walked together.
"Ay," he replied, with a sigh. "I was stronger then."
"You will get strong again, now that you are free," I said.
"Perhaps--if liberty, like most earthly blessings, has not come too late."
"Too late for what?"
"For enjoyment--for use--for everything. My friends believe me dead; my
place in the life of the world is filled up; my very name is by this time
forgotten. I am as one shipwrecked on the great ocean, and cast upon a
foreign shore."
"Are you--are you going away soon?" I said, almost in a whisper.
"Yes," he said, "I go to-morrow."
"And you will--never--come back again?" I faltered.
"Heaven forbid!" he said quickly. Then, remembering how that answer would
grieve me, he added; "but I will never forget thee, petite.
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