She awaited these gentlemen in the throne-room, surrounded by the officers of the household in full uniform. Florimond and I hovered uneasily in the background.
"By Jove, she does look her part, doesn't she?" Florimond whispered to me.
She wore a robe of black silk, with the yellow ribbon of the Lion of Monterosso across her breast, and a tiara of diamonds in her hair. Her eyes glowed with a fire of determination, and her cheeks with a colour that those who knew her recognised for a danger-signal. She stood on the steps of the throne, waiting, and tapping nervously with her foot.
And then the great white-and-gold folding doors were thrown open, and M. Tsargradev entered, followed by the aide-de-camp who had gone to fetch him.
He entered, bowing and smiling, grotesque in his ministerial green and silver; and the top of his bald head shone as if it had been waxed and polished. Bowing and smirking, he advanced to the foot of the throne, where he halted.
"I have sent for you to demand the return of your seals of office," said the Queen, She held her head high, and spoke slowly, with superb haughtiness.
Tsargradev bowed low, and, always smiling, answered, in a voice of honey, "If it please your Majesty, I don't think I quite understand."
"I have sent for you to demand the return of your seals of office," the Queen repeated, her head higher, her inflection haughtier than ever.
"Does your Majesty mean that I am to consider myself dismissed from her service?" he asked, with undiminished sweetness.
"It is my desire that you should deliver up your seals of office," said she.
