softly, fearing lest the divine apparition should vanish to the skies;
but there beside him stood a young girl, with cheeks aflame and heaving
breast, with brilliant liquid eyes: she had come to tell how her past
day had been spent, and to offer her forehead for the kiss that should
reward her labours and unwilling absence. This woman, dictator of
laws and administrator of justice among grave magistrates and stern
ministers, was but fifteen years old; this man; who knew her griefs, and
to avenge them was meditating regicide, was not yet twenty: two children
of earth, the playthings of an awful destiny!

Two months and a few days after the old king's death, on the morning of
Friday the 28th of March of the same year, 1343, the widow of the grand
seneschal, Philippa, who, had already contrived to get forgiven for the
shameful trick she had used to secure all her son's wishes, entered the
queen's apartments, excited by a genuine fear, pale and distracted, the
bearer of news that spread terror and lamentation throughout the court:
Marie, the queen's younger sister, had disappeared.

The gardens and outside courts had been searched for any trace of
her; every corner of the castle had been examined; the guards had been
threatened with torture, so as to drag the truth from them; no one had
seen anything of the princess, and nothing could be found that suggested
either flight or abduction. Joan, struck down by this new blow in the
midst of other troubles, was for a time utterly prostrated; then, when
she had recovered from her first surprise, she behaved as all people
do if despair takes the place of reason: she gave orders for what was
already done to be done again, she asked the same questions that could
only bring the same answers, and poured forth vain regrets and unjust
reproaches. The news spread through the town, causing the greatest
astonishment: there arose a great commotion in the castle, and the