in the garden, or enough to let
him understand why I was summoned to the morning audience.

"Thou art lucky, lad; here half a day and already have an appointment
with the King." "Yes," he roused half aloud, "Louis likes such things.
He grows suspicious with age, and doubts even his ministers. It is
quite possible he may question you of affairs in the colonies. If so,
speak out, and freely, too, my lad; Louis loves the plain truth when it
touches not his princely person or his vanities. God grant that we may
win."

Serigny then told me much of the petty trickery of the court in order
that I might understand how the land lay.

"It may be of service to you to know something of the many webs which
ambition, cupidity and malice have woven about us here in this great
government of France," he went on, speaking bitterly. "We never dare
speak our thoughts, for blindness, silence, flattery and fawning seem
surer passports to favor than are gallant deeds and honest service.
The King grows old, and it is feared his end is near. Of this, men
scarcely whisper. His death, as you know, would leave all France to
the frail little Duke of Anjou. Looking to this, the court here is
already divided in interest between the rivals for the regency, Philip
of Orleans, and the Duke of Maine. The Orleans party is the stronger,
though the Duke stands accused in the vulgar mind of poisoning all who
may come between himself and the throne, save this Anjou child, who
will probably die of sheer weakness. The King has recently had his de
Montespan children legitimated and rendered capable of inheriting the
crown, though the legality of this action is bitterly contested by the
Orleanists. He has also, it is said, left a will in favor of the Duke
of Maine, giving him all real power, while nominally making Orleans the
Regent. And strange as it may seem, it is said this will was made at
the persistent request of de Maintenon, so viciously hated by the proud
de Montespan. But you know she was the teacher of this little Duke,
and they are very much attached to each other. Were the Duke of Maine
a more vigorous man, there would be no doubt of his success. If 'that
little wasp of Sceaux,' as Madame Orleans calls the wife of the Duke of
Maine, were the man of the family, she would surely be the Regent.
She's a wonderful woman. Madame du Maine hates Bienville because she
can not use him in her dealings with Spain. She has duped the Bretons
b