"Sire," said the honest porter, looking at the moon, "if the specter is anywhere, it must be up yonder; I saw it, as plainly as I see Your Majesty, dissolving in mist. But before taking flight it gave me a message for Your Majesty." "What? Speak quickly!" "Sire, its words were terrible; I shall never dare repeat them to Your Majesty." "Speak, I order you." "Sire, the specter said, in a sepulchral voice, 'Tell the king that if he marries again he is a dead man. The loved one will return.'" "Here," said the prince, whose eyes shone with a strange luster, "take this purse. Henceforth I attach you to my person; I appoint you my first attendant, counting on your devotion and prudence. Let this affair remain a secret between us." "That makes two," murmured Rachimburg, as he departed with a firm tread, like a man who neither suffers himself to be cast down by fear or dazzled by good fortune. He was a strong-minded man. The next morning the court gazette contained the following lines, in the form of a letter without signature, in the unofficial part of the paper: "A rumor has been spread that the king is thinking of marrying again. The king knows what he owes to his people, and is always ready to sacrifice himself for the happiness of his subjects. But the people of Wild Oats have too much delicacy not to respect a recent affliction. The king's whole thoughts are fixed on his beloved wife; he hopes the consolation from time that is at present refused him." This note threw the court and town in agitation. The young girls thought the scruples of the prince exaggerated; more than one mother shrugged her shoulders, and said that the king had vulgar prejudices worthy only of the common people; but at night there was strife in every well-ordered household. There was not a wife of any pretensions to aristocratic birth that did not quarrel with her unworthy spouse and force him to admit that there was but one heart capable of love, and but one faithful husband in the whole kingdom, namely, Prince Charming. VII TWO CONSULTATIONS After so much excitement, the king was seized with a cruel fit of tedium. To divert himself, he attempted every kind of pleasure; he hunted, he presided over his council, he went to the play and the opera, he received all the state corporations with their wives, he read a Carthaginian novel, and reviewed the troops half a score of times; but all in vain: an inexorable memory, an ever-present image left him no rest or peace. The gipsy pursued him even in his dreams; he saw her, he talked to her, and she listened to him; but, by some unaccountable fatality, as soon as she raised her mask, Pazza's pale, sad face always appeared. The doctor was the only confidant to whom Charming could avow his remorse, but at his word Wieduwillst burst into laughter. "The effect of habit, sire," he said. "Gain time, multiply impressions, and all will be effaced."