"Bah!" the King broke in rudely. "That portrait is too flattering. The Queen was ugly."
He was always suspicious of there being underlying reproaches whenever anyone mentioned her name in his presence. Then, vexed at his harsliness, he rose and paced the room to hide a blush of shame. He stopped in front of the window which looked on to the courtyard.
It was a dark night and the moon was in its first quarter. The palace in which the Kings of Sweden now reside was not then finished, so that Charles XI, who had begun it, lived then in the old palace on the promontory of Ritterholm overlooking the Lake Moeler. It was a vast building in the form of a horse-shoe. The King's cabinet was at one of the extremities, and nearly, opposite it was the large audience hall where Parliament assembled to receive communications from the Crown.
The windows of this chamber appeared to be illuminated with a bright light. This struck the King as strange, but at first he thought the light might be produced by the torch of some valet. Still, what could anybody be doing there at such an hour, and in a room which had not been opened for some time? Besides, the light was too bright to proceed from a single torch. It might be the work of an incendiary, but
