Silence filled the hall while they waited. The king’s face was swollen with anger. The queen hid hers behind her handkerchief. The shepherd and shepherdess bent their eyes on the ground, wondering. It was with difficulty Rosamond could keep her place, but so wise had she already become that she saw it would be far better to let everything come out before she interfered.
At length the door opened, and in came the officer, followed by Agnes, looking white as death and mean as sin.
The shepherdess gave a shriek, and darted towards her with arms spread wide; the shepherd followed, but not so eagerly.
“My child! my lost darling! my Agnes!” cried the shepherdess.
“Hold them asunder,” shouted the king. “Here is more villany! What! have I a scullery-maid in my house born of such parents? The parents of such a child must be capable of anything. Take all three of them to the rack. Stretch them till their joints are torn asunder, and give them no water. Away with them!”
The soldiers approached to lay hands on them. But, behold! a girl all in rags, with such a radiant countenance that it was right lovely to see, darted between, and careless of the royal presence, flung herself upon the shepherdess, crying—
“Do not touch her. She is my good, kind mistress.”
But the shepherdess could hear or see no one but her Agnes, and pushed her away. Then the princess turned, with the tears in her eyes, to the shepherd, and threw her arms about his neck and pulled down his head and kissed him. And the tall shepherd lifted her to his bosom and kept her there, but his eyes were fixed on his Agnes.
“What is the meaning of this?” cried the king, starting up from his throne. “How did that ragged girl get in here? Take her away with the