She thought, not of her own suffering, but of
the exciting incident in which mere impulse had led her to take so
marked a share. It was by pure accident that she had joined the crowd
assembled to see the King lay the foundation-stone of the proposed new
Theatre. She had been as it were, entangled in the press of the people,
and had got pushed towards the centre of the scene almost against her
own volition. And while she had stood,--a passive and unwilling
spectator of the pageant,--her attention had been singularly attracted
towards the uneasy and restless movements of the youth who had
afterwards attempted the assassination of the monarch. She had watched
him narrowly; though she could not have explained why she did so, even
to herself. He was a complete stranger to her, and yet, with her quick
intuition, she had discerned a curious expression of anxiety and fear
in his face, as though of the impending horror of a crime,--a look
which, because it was so strained and unnatural, had aroused her
suspicion. When she had sprung forward to shield the King, only one
idea had inspired her,--and that idea she would not now fully own even
to herself, because it was so entirely, weakly feminine. Nevertheless,
from woman's weakness has often sprung a hero's strength--and so it had
proved in this case.
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