en he bade them light the
spacious room as for a great solemnity, and gave a sign to the two
persons who stood, one at the head, the other at the foot of the bed.
The two folding doors opened, and the whole of the royal family, with
the queen at their head and the chief barons following, took their
places in silence around the dying king to hear his last wishes.

His eyes turned toward Joan, who stood next him on his right hand, with
an indescribable look of tenderness and grief. She was of a beauty so
unusual and so marvellous, that her grandfather was fascinated by
the dazzling sight, and mistook her for an angel that God had sent to
console him on his deathbed. The pure lines of her fine profile, her
great black liquid eyes, her noble brow uncovered, her hair shining like
the raven's wing, her delicate mouth, the whole effect of this beautiful
face on the mind of those who beheld her was that of a deep melancholy
and sweetness, impressing itself once and for ever. Tall and slender,
but without the excessive thinness of some young girls, her movements
had that careless supple grace that recall the waving of a flower stalk
in the breeze. But in spite of all these smiling and innocent graces one
could yet discern in Robert's heiress a will firm and resolute to brave
every obstacle, and the dark rings that circled her fine eyes plainly
showed that her heart was already agitated by passions beyond her years.

Beside Joan stood her younger sister, Marie, who was twelve or thirteen
years of age, the second daughter of Charles, Duke of Calabria, who had
died before her birth, and whose mother, Marie of Valois, had unhappily
been lost to her from her cradle. Exceedingly pretty and shy, she seemed
distressed by such an assembly of great personages, and quietly drew
near to the widow of the grand seneschal, Philippa, surnamed the
Catanese, the princesses' governess, whom they honoured as a mother.
Behind the princesses and beside this lady stood her son, Robert of
Cabane, a handsome young man, proud and upright, who with his left hand
played with his slight moustache while he secretly cast on Joan a glance
of audacious boldness. The group was completed by Dona Cancha, the
young chamberwoman to the princesses, and by the Count of Terlizzi,
who exchanged with her many a furtive look and many an open smile. The
second group was composed of Andre, Joan's husband, and Friar Robert,
tutor to the young prince, who had come with him fr