Book II Chapter 15 The Twilight of Magic by Hugh Lofting
The King pays a debt
An hour passed, or so it seemed to those who waited in the ante-chamber. For the Queen Mother’s sake all tried to hide, under a show of calm patience, their eagerness for news, for the answer to that dread question: had Agnes come in time to save the King?
It was Anne, sitting nearest to the bedroom door, who first broke the silence. She ran quickly to the Queen.
‘Madame, I hear voices. The King must be awake.’
‘The Saints be thanked—and the good woman too,’ sighed the Queen.
At that moment the door opened and Agnes’s head popped out.
‘His Majesty wishes to see the Countess,’ she said, and disappeared again.
Barbara rose at once and hurried in. She ran quickly across the room and knelt sobbing by the King’s bed. Agnes closed the door gently and waited by it.
The King feebly raised his hand and laid it on the girl’s golden head.
‘There, there!’ he whispered. ‘I know. I know.’
‘Oh, I didn’t mean to hurt you,’ she cried. ‘Thank Heaven you are better! It would have killed me had you died. I couldn’t help it. When you asked me to marry you it was different. I liked you, as you well know. My father and all of them told me it was my duty, if you wanted me, to be your queen—to make you happy. And I thought I could—then.’
‘I know,’ the King repeated. ‘I knew when Luke brought me word that you were not carried off. I was sure then that you must have gone of your own accord and, most likely, because you loved someone else more than myself.’
‘It was so stupid and unfair of me,’ said Barbara. ‘I should have come and told you outright, instead of running like a coward. But I only began to find it out after our betrothal—one day when I was at the lake and he helped me get flowers for the Queen Mother. I suppose they call it falling in love. But after that day I grew more and more certain it would be wrong to marry you while I loved Sir Giles. Then the preparations for the wedding began, kings and princes coming, and the news sent out all over the world. The thought of humbling you in the eyes of everyone, coming to you begging to be freed of the pledge I’d given, seemed impossible. And so, like a fool, I still said nothing, hoping to go through with what I had begun. But that last night, the night before the wedding, I saw at last clearly that there was a lifetime of unhappiness ahead of both of us if I married you. So I just ran away. I thought if I went into a convent and took the veil, then at least no one could say I had deserted the King for one of his subjects. You would be spared that much. Tell me, tell me you forgive me!’
The King smiled.
‘Do not blame yourself. It was my fault, too. From the start I guessed you did not love me in the way that I did you. And rather than face the matter honestly in my own heart, I tried to fool myself. Mercifully, the knowledge came slowly to me . . . I feel much better now, thanks to that old woman there. I’ll soon be up and busy. Tell her to bring Giles to me.’
A moment later Giles came in alone.
‘Your Majesty, Agnes bids me warn you that you must not talk longer now. You should sleep.’
‘There is not much left to say,’ the King whispered. ‘She loves you. And I am glad that it is you, and no one else, who takes her from me. You saved my life once, Giles, and I told you that I would not forget. I pay the debt now—in full. Go with him, Barbara. But after you are married he remains, please, in my service. I cannot afford to lose my two best friends at once. Good luck to you! Goodbye—till tomorrow.’
The Queen Mother entered as they went out.
Silently Giles and Barbara walked across to the head of the stairs. There they stopped, gazing at one another through a golden haze of wonder, love and happiness. And, of a sudden, for the first time, they kissed.
Presently they heard Luke fidgeting by the window. They had forgotten for the moment that this world held anyone else but themselves.
‘Where is Agnes?’ asked Anne, jumping up.
The Applewoman was nowhere in the room. Yet they had all seen her leave the King.
Giles, still a little crazy with happiness, grabbed Barbara by the hand and dragged her wildly down the stairs to look for Agnes.
Luke and Anne followed. There were a thousand questions they all wanted to ask her: Where she had been all these years; how she knew the King was sick; how the cat came to the Countess’s apartments; how the shell got into the pocket of the tunic. And no end more.
Round and round and down the dizzy, winding stairs they went, gabbling like a lot of children out of school.
But at the bottom they found the courtyard empty under the silent stars.
Agnes was gone.