, he threw
himself into the huge armchair in which his august father, Louis XIII.,
had passed so many weary days and years in company with Baradas and
Cinq-Mars. Saint-Aignan perceived that the king was not to be amused at
that moment: he tried a last resource and pronounced Louise's name,
which made the king look up immediately. "What does your majesty intend
to do this evening? Shall Mademoiselle de la Valliere be informed of
your intention to see her?"

"It seems she is already aware of that," replied the king. "No, no,
Saint-Aignan," he continued, after a moment's pause, "we will both of us
pass our time in thinking, and musing, and dreaming; when Mademoiselle
de la Valliere shall have sufficiently regretted what she now regrets,
she will deign, perhaps, to give us some news of herself."

"Ah! sire, is it possible you can so misunderstand her heart, which is
so full of devotion?"

The king rose, flushed from vexation and annoyance; he was a prey to
jealousy as well as to remorse. Saint-Aignan was just beginning to feel
that his position was becoming awkward, when the curtain before the door
was raised. The king turned hastily round; his first idea was that a
letter from Louise had arrived; but, instead of a letter of love, he
only saw his captain of musketeers standing upright and perfectly silent
in the doorway. "M. d'Artagnan," he said, "ah! Well, monsieur?"

D'Artagnan looked at Saint-Aignan; the king's eyes took the same
direction as those of his captain; these looks would have been clear to
any one, and for a still greater reason they were so for Saint-Aignan.
The courtier bowed and quitted the room, leaving the king and D'Artagnan
alone.

"Is it done?" inquired the king.

"Yes, sire," replied the captain of the musketeers in a grave voice, "it
is done!"

The king was unable to say another word. Pride, however, obliged him not
to pause at what he had done; whenever a sovereign has adopted a
decisive course, even though it be unjust, he is compelled to prove to
all who were witnesses of his having adopted it, and particularly to
prove it to himself, that he was quite right in so adopting it. A good
means for effecting that--an almost infallible means, indeed--is to try
and prove his victim to be in the wrong. Louis, brought up by Mazarin
and Anne of Austria, knew better than any one else his vocation as a
monarch; he therefore endeavored to prove it on the present occasion.
After a few moments' pause, w