"Trust me," said Radisson. "The gods of chance!"
"Will you petition the king direct?"
"Egad--no! Never petition a selfish man direct, or you'll get a No!
Bring him round to the generous, so that he may take all credit for it
himself! Do you hold back among the on-lookers till I've told our
story o' the north! 'Tis not a state occasion! Egad, there'll be
court wenches aplenty ready to take up with a likely looking man! Have
a word with Hortense if you can! Let me but get the king's ear--" And
Radisson laughed with a confidence, methought, nothing on earth could
shake.
Then we were passed from the sentinel doing duty at the gate to the
king's guards, and from the guards to orderlies, and from orderlies to
fellows in royal colours, who led us from an ante-room to that glorious
gallery of art where it pleased the king to take his pleasure that
night.
It was not a state occasion, as Radisson said; but for a moment I think
the glitter in which those jaded voluptuaries burned out their
moth-lives blinded even the clear vision of Pierre Radisson. The great
gallery was thronged with graceful courtiers and stately dowagers and
gaily attired page-boys and fair ladies with a beauty of youth on their
features and the satiety of age in their look.
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