CHAPTER III—MAJESTY.

There was more of hurry than of kingly dignity in the entrance of Charles. The handsome face was marred by an imperious querulousness that for the moment detracted from its acknowledged nobility. “Strafford,” he cried impatiently, “I have been kept waiting. Servants are at this moment searching palace and park for you. Where have you been?” “I was in the forest, your Majesty. I am deeply grieved to learn that you needed me.” “I never needed you more than now. Are you ready to travel?” Strafford’s gloomy face almost…