"Here with the light! Here, you folks!" The door of the anteroom opened, and in it appeared four soldiers with torches in their hands.
"Light the candles, and guard the door!" said the king, whose dazzled eyes were not yet able to bear this bright glare of light which now suddenly streamed through the room.
The soldiers obeyed his orders.

A pause ensued.

The king had put his hand before his eyes, and was struggling for breath and self-control.
When at length he let his hand glide down, his features had assumed a perfectly calm, almost a serene expression.
With a hasty glance he surveyed the room.

He saw the queen in her dress glistening with gold; he saw how she lay on the floor, stretched at full length, her face turned to the ground, motionless and rigid.
He saw Henry Howard, who knelt by his beloved and was busy about her with all the anxiety and agony of an acknowledge of her love openly and frankly; whether her heart had the power to burst that iron band which the deceitful rules of the world had placed around it; whether she would acknowledge her lover when he was willing to die for her.

"Yes, Geraldine, I wanted to do it, that I might finally know which feeling is stronger in you--love or pride--and whether you could then still preserve the mask of indifference, when death was hovering over your lover's head.