But the king was so
much absorbed in thought that he scarcely seemed to hear or notice
the enthusiasm of the crowd. He saluted and bowed to right and left
as a prince is accustomed to do from his childhood, but it was a
mechanical action of the body, and his mind had little part in it.
His eyes were not looking at the sea of uncovered heads, but seemed
fixed, under knitted brows, on the distance, as if they endeavored
to decipher there some indistinct, shadowy form. Did the king
perceive in this moment the responsibility of one human being to
carry such a load? Did he wish in his innermost heart that he might
share the weight of the decision with others--the representatives of
the people--and not alone be forced to throw the dice deciding the
life or death of hundreds and thousands? Who can say? At all events
the powerful features of the king's face betrayed no such uneasy
doubt--only a deep earnestness and an immovable steadiness of
expression. Belief in the divine right of his kingship gave him
power over the minds of men, and he took his duties on him in this
hour without weakness or failing, grasping with his human hand the
obscure spiritual web of man's destiny, and with his limited
intelligence trying to unravel the dark threads here and there, on
which hung the healing and destruction of millions.
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