her. She could not
sleep, and was obliged to have it removed during the night.

Her calmness and equanimity were thus restored, and, as reading was now
permitted her, the priest provided her with suitable books.

Her whole life was possessed by the one idea. Walpurga had observed
correctly. The queen scarcely looked at her child, although the step
she contemplated taking was prompted by love for her husband and her
child.

A few days before she went out for the first time, she sent for the
king, and said:

"Kurt, next Sunday will be the first time that I go out, and the first
day that I enter your church, and that of our son. Henceforth, I shall
pray at the same altar with you and him."

"I don't understand you--"

"I have vowed that if God, in his mercy, would preserve my life and
that of the child, I would be united with you in all things. I am not
fulfilling an enforced vow, but a free and well-considered resolution.
I offer this, not as a new proof, but rather as a confirmation or final
sealing of our love. Kurt, my every thought, all that I am, is yours.
We are as one before the world; let us be as one before God.
Henceforth, we will not take separate ways, or have separate thoughts.
Let our child learn nothing of the differences between men, and, above
all, between those to whom he owes his life. I feel happy that I can do
this as a free offering and not as a sacrifice."

"Mathilde," said the king, with a strangely cold tone, "is this the
first time you speak of this, or have you already made preparations--"

"My resolution was formed in secret, and in all earnestness. Afterward,
I announced it and all is now in readiness. I had intended it as a
surprise for you. The canon almost insisted that I must tell you of it
in his presence, but I wouldn't consent."

"Thank God!" said the king, drawing a long breath, "all may again be
well!"

"'Again?' 'Well?'" inquired the queen in amazement.

The king calmly explained to her that, although he appreciated the
sacrifice, he could not accept it. The queen deprecated his terming it
a sacrifice, and the king said:

"Very well, then; you need go no further than myself, who of all
beings am most in accord with you, to discover that others may--nay,
must--judge of your actions differently from yourself. What will the
world, the courts, our subjects, think of it?"

"What need we care about that, when we know that we are right? 'What
will the world say?' is always