The day was fast falling, deep shadows gathered in the forest and around the castle. Gabrielle sat within in the twilight embroidering a scarf. She was thinking over all the difficulties of her position, divided as she was between regard for the generous Bellegarde and her passion each day growing stronger for the King. Suddenly her maid Louise came into the room and begged her, as she had passed all day in the house, to take a little fresh air. “Come, madame, while there is yet a little light; come, at least, to the balcony that looks out over the terrace, where the breeze is so pleasant, and see the sun set over the tree-tops.” “No, no,” replied Gabrielle, shaking her head sadly. “Leave me alone. I have enough to think [Illustration: THE CASCADE OF ST. CLOUD. From an engraving by Rigaud.] about, and I want to finish my scarf, or it will not be done by the time I promised Bellegarde. Besides I do not fancy open balconies in the month of November; it is too cold.” “Oh! but,” pleaded Louise, “the day has been so splendid--like summer in the forest. Pray come, madame.” “Why do you plague me so? I never remember your great desire for open air before.” And Gabrielle rose. She was no sooner on the balcony, watching the last streaks of golden light glittering among the branches and lighting up the plain beyond in a ruddy mist, than all at once she heard a rustling noise, and on looking down saw, just under the balcony, on the grass-plot, a peasant on a horse, laden with a bundle of straw. The peasant stopped and gazed at her for some time, then, throwing away the straw, he flung himself from his horse and fell on his knees before her, clasping his hands, as if about to worship at some shrine. Juliette, Gabrielle’s sister, now joined her on the balcony. Readier-witted than she, Juliette whispered-- “Gabrielle, it is the King--he is disguised!” Louise burst into a loud laugh at their surprise and ran away. It was now apparent why she was so anxious to make Gabrielle go on the balcony to see the sun set. Gabrielle had not dreamt of seeing the King, who was reported to be encamped at some distance. Her first feeling was one of anger for his utter want of dignity. To kneel on the wet grass, and in the dress of a peasant! Besides, this disguise was most unbecoming to him. He looked positively hideous. Juliette retired, and Gabrielle was left standing alone on the balcony before the King. As yet she had not spoken. “What! not a word to greet me?” cried Henry, rising. “Why, _vrai Dieu_, many a lady of our Court would have flung herself down headlong to welcome me, and never cared if she broke her neck! Come, _belle des belles_, look down graciously upon your devoted slave, whose only desire is to die at your feet.”