Sir John, apprehending some mistake, left the king for a moment to see
how matters stood; but Goring had lifted up the arras, and, lo! the
knight with the black visor and mantle of silver was not there, neither
was the Queen of Beauty in her bower. The four disconsolate maidens
still sat waiting for their cue, and expecting release. This was an
unlooked-for disaster. The pageant was at a stand. On inquiry, the
maidens told how that the gallant knight and the peerless queen had
departed before the king's arrival, saying they would return anon.
Sir John was bewildered and alarmed. The Silver Knight was trusty, and
no suspicion crossed him from that source; yet was their absence wholly
unaccountable. The king, seeing some mistake in the unravelling or
conception of the plot, good-naturedly commanded the minstrels to strike
up a favourite tune; at the hearing of which a number of masks
immediately mustered to begin dancing in the soft and dewy twilight.
Amongst the rest came in Buckingham, negligently attired, and without
his visor.
"I thought thee hidden amongst the maskers," said the king.
"Ay, my liege, a short space;--but the night is hot, and I am something
distempered and weary in this turmoil.
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