At
last, however, a gleam of light appeared above us, the boy opened
a door, and we found ourselves standing on a mean, narrow
landing, the walls of which had once been whitewashed. The child
signed to us to enter, and we followed him into a bare attic,
where our heads nearly touched the ceiling.
"Messieurs, the air is keen," he said in a curiously formal tone.
"Will you please to close the shutter?"
The King, amused and full of wonder, looked round. The room
contained little besides a table, a stool, and a lamp standing in
a basin on the floor; but an alcove, curtained with black, dingy
hangings, broke one wall. "Your father lies there?" Henry said,
pointing to it.
"Yes, monsieur."
"He feels the cold?"
"Yes, monsieur. Will you please to close the shutter?"
I went to it, and, leaning out, managed, with a little
difficulty, to comply. Meanwhile, the King, gazing curiously at
the curtains, gradually approached the alcove. He hesitated
long, he told me afterwards, before he touched the hangings; but
at length, feeling sure that there was something more in the
business than appeared, he did so.
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