e sheets.
His mother stooped over him, and kissed his forehead.

"Pretend to sleep, Louis," said she.

"Yes," said the king, "but not one of those men must touch me."

"Sire," said D'Artagnan, "I am here; and if one of them had that
audacity, he should pay for it with his life."

The five minutes were over. Laporte went out to usher in the mob; the
queen remained standing near the door; D'Artagnan concealed himself
behind the curtains of the bed. Then was heard the march of a great
multitude of men, striving to step lightly and noiselessly. The queen
raised with her own hand the tapestry that covered the doorway, and
placed her finger on her lips. On beholding her, the crowd paused,
struck with respect.

"Come in, gentlemen--come in," said the queen.

There was apparent in the mob a degree of hesitation which resembled
shame; they had expected resistance, had anticipated a contest with
the guards, bloodshed and violence; instead of that, the gates had
been peaceably opened, and the king, ostensibly at least, was
unguarded save by his mother. The men in front of the throng stammered
out an excuse, and attempted to retire.

"Come in, gentlemen," said Laporte, "since the queen desires it."

Upon this invitation, a man, bolder than the rest, entered the room,
and advanced on tiptoe towards the bed. He was followed by others, and
the chamber was rapidly filled, as silently as if the new-comers had
been the most humble and obsequious courtiers. D'Artagnan saw every
thing through a hole he had made in the curtain. In the man who had
first entered, he recognised his former servant Planchet, who, since
he had left his service, had been a sergeant in the regiment of
Piedmont, and who was now a confectioner in the Rue des Lombards, and
an active partisan of the Fronde.

"Sir," said the queen, who saw that Planchet was a leader of the mob,
"you wished to see the king, and the king is here. Approach, and look
at him, and say if we resemble persons who are going to escape."

"Certainly not, your majesty," said Planchet, a little astonished at
the honour done to him.

"You will tell my good and loyal Parisians," continued Anne of
Austria, with a smile of which D'Artagnan well understood the meaning,
"that you have seen the king in bed, and sleeping, and the queen about
to go to bed also."

"I will tell them so, madam, and those who accompany me will also bear
witness to it, but"----

"But what?" said the queen.

"I