saw:

She made no obeisance, nor even any slight inclination of her head, but
stood looking toward the throne in silence. That was all there was to
see at present.

I glanced up at De Metz, and was shocked at the paleness of his face. I
whispered and said:

"What is it, man, what is it?"

His answering whisper was so weak I could hardly catch it:

"They have taken advantage of the hint in her letter to play a trick
upon her! She will err, and they will laugh at her. That is not the King
that sits there."

Then I glanced at Joan. She was still gazing steadfastly toward the
throne, and I had the curious fancy that even her shoulders and the back
of her head expressed bewilderment. Now she turned her head slowly, and
her eye wandered along the lines of standing courtiers till it fell
upon a young man who was very quietly dressed; then her face lighted
joyously, and she ran and threw herself at his feet, and clasped his
knees, exclaiming in that soft melodious voice which was her birthright
and was now charged with deep and tender feeling:

"God of his grace give you long life, O dear and gentle Dauphin!"

In his astonishment and exultation De Metz cried out:

"By the shadow of God, it is an amazing thing!" Then he mashed all the
bones of my hand in his grateful grip, and added, with a proud shake of
his mane, "Now, what have these painted infidels to say!"

Meantime the young person in the plain clothes was saying to Joan:

"Ah, you mistake, my child, I am not the King. There he is," and he
pointed to the throne.

The knight's face clouded, and he muttered in grief and indignation:

"Ah, it is a shame to use her so. But for this lie she had gone through
safe. I will go and proclaim to all the house what--"

"Stay where you are!" whispered I and the Sieur Bertrand in a breath,
and made him stop in his place.

Joan did not stir from her knees, but still lifted her happy face toward
the King, and said:

"No, gracious liege, you are he, and none other."

De Metz's troubles vanished away, and he said:

"Verily, she was not guessing, she knew. Now, how could she know? It is
a miracle. I am content, and will meddle no more, for I perceive that
she is equal to her occasions, having that in her head that cannot
profitably be helped by the vacancy that is in mine."

This interruption of his lost me a remark or two of the other talk;
however, I caught the King's next question:

"But tell me who you are, and