ter despair to a
sorrow which would have been far from flattering for the king, if he had
been a witness of it from one of the corners of the room. Saint-Aignan,
in his character of ambassador, felt greatly offended at it, as his
master himself would have been, and returned to inform the king what he
had seen and heard; and it is there we shall now find him in a state of
great agitation, in the presence of the king, who was, if possible, in a
state of greater agitation than he.

"But," said the king to the courtier, when the latter had finished his
report, "what did she decide to do? Shall I at least see her presently
before supper? Will she come to me, or shall I be obliged to go to her
room?"

"I believe, sire, that if your majesty wishes to see her, you will not
only have to take the first step in advance, but will have to go the
whole way."

"That I do not mind. Do you think she has still a fancy for that
Bragelonne?" muttered the king between his teeth.

"Oh! sire, that is not possible; for it is you alone, I am convinced,
Mademoiselle de la Valliere loves, and that, too, with all her heart.
But you know that De Bragelonne belongs to that proud race who play the
part of Roman heroes."

The king smiled feebly; he knew how true the illustration was, for Athos
had just left him.

"As for Mademoiselle de la Valliere," Saint-Aignan continued, "she was
brought up under the care of the Dowager Madame; that is to say, in the
greatest austerity and formality. This young engaged couple coldly
exchanged their little vows in the presence of the moon and the stars,
and now, when they find they have to break those vows asunder, it plays
the very deuce with them."

Saint-Aignan thought he should have made the king laugh; but quite on
the contrary, from a mere smile Louis passed to the greatest seriousness
of manner. He already began to experience that remorse which the comte
had promised D'Artagnan he would inflict upon him. He reflected that, in
fact, these young persons had loved and sworn fidelity to each other;
that one of the two had kept his word, and that the other was too
conscientious not to feel her perjury most bitterly. And his remorse was
not unaccompanied; for bitter pangs of jealousy began to beset the
king's heart. He did not say another word, and instead of going to pay a
visit to his mother, or the queen, or Madame, in order to amuse himself
a little, and make the ladies laugh, as he himself used to say