mindful of the rules of etiquette, he mastered himself, still
listening, however, with rapt attention.

"What order?" inquired Saint-Aignan.

"The Carmelites of Chaillot."

"Who the deuce told you that?"

"She did herself."

"You have seen her, then?"

"Nay, I even went with her to the Carmelites."

The king did not lose a syllable of this conversation, and again he
could hardly control his feelings.

"But what was the cause of her flight?" inquired Saint-Aignan.

"Because the poor girl was driven away from the court yesterday,"
replied D'Artagnan.

He had no sooner said this, than the king, with an authoritative
gesture, said to the ambassador, "Enough, monsieur, enough!" Then,
advancing toward the captain, he exclaimed, "Who says that La Valliere
is going to take the religious vows?"

"M. d'Artagnan," answered the favorite.

"Is it true what you say?" said the king, turning toward the musketeer.

"As true as truth itself."

The king clenched his hands, and turned pale. "You have something
further to add, M. d'Artagnan?" he said.

"I know nothing more, sire."

"You added that Mademoiselle de la Valliere had been driven away from
the court."

"Yes, sire."

"Is that true also?"

"Ascertain it for yourself, sire."

"And from whom?"

"Oh!" said D'Artagnan, like a man declining to say anything further.

The king almost bounded from his seat, regardless of ambassadors,
ministers, courtiers, and politics. The queen-mother rose; she had heard
everything, or, if she had not heard everything, she had guessed it.
Madame, almost fainting from anger and fear, endeavored to rise as the
queen-mother had done; but she sank down again upon her chair, which, by
an instinctive movement, she made roll back a few paces.

"Gentlemen," said the king, "the audience is over; I will communicate my
answer, or rather my will, to Spain and to Holland;" and with a proud,
imperious gesture, he dismissed the ambassadors.

"Take care, my son," said the queen-mother, indignantly, "take care; you
are hardly master of yourself, I think."

"Ah, madame," returned the young lion, with a terrible gesture, "if I am
not master of myself, I will be, I promise you, of those who do me
outrage. Come with me, M. d'Artagnan, come." And he quitted the room in
the midst of a general stupefaction and dismay. The king hastily
descended the staircase, and was about to cross the courtyard.

"Sire," said D'Artagnan, "your majesty mistake