means of concealing behind the door as he opened it, and
which he had not perceived as he entered. He advanced toward this
figure, whose presence in his room had not been announced to him; and as
he bowed, and inquired at the same moment who she was, she suddenly
raised her head, and removed the veil from her face, revealing her pale
and sorrow-stricken features. Raoul staggered back, as if he had seen a
ghost.

"Louise!" he cried, in a tone of such utter despair, that one could
hardly have thought that the human voice were capable of so desponding a
cry, without some fibers of the human heart snapping.

CHAPTER LXVIII.

WOUNDS UPON WOUNDS.

Mademoiselle de La Valliere--for it was indeed she--advanced a few steps
toward him. "Yes--Louise," she murmured.

But this interval, short as it had been, was quite sufficient for Raoul
to recover himself. "You, mademoiselle?" he said; and then added, in an
indefinable tone, "You here!"

"Yes, Raoul," the young girl replied, "I have been waiting for you."

"I beg your pardon. When I came into the room I was not aware--"

"I know--but I entreated Olivain not to tell you--" She hesitated; and
as Raoul did not attempt to interrupt her, a moment's silence ensued,
during which the sound of their throbbing hearts might have been heard,
not in unison with each other, but the one beating as violently as the
other. It was for Louise to speak, and she made an effort to do so.

"I wished to speak to you," she said. "It was absolutely necessary that
I should see you--myself--alone. I have not hesitated adopting a step
which must remain secret; for no one, except yourself, could understand
my motive, Monsieur de Bragelonne."

"In fact, mademoiselle," Raoul stammered out, almost breathless from
emotion, "as far as I am concerned, and despite the good opinion you
have of me, I confess--"

"Will you do me the great kindness to sit down and listen to me?" said
Louise, interrupting him with her soft, sweet voice.

Bragelonne looked at her for a moment; then, mournfully shaking his
head, he sat, or rather fell down, on a chair. "Speak," he said.

She cast a glance all round her. This look was a timid entreaty, and
implored secrecy far more effectually than her expressed words had done
a few minutes before. Raoul rose, and went to the door, which he opened.
"Olivain," he said, "I am not within for any one." And then, turning
toward Louise, he added, "Is not that what you wished?