m, she tore herself from the king's
grasp, and returned to the stone crucifix, which she kissed, saying,
"Oh, Heaven! it was thou who drewest me hither! thou, who hast rejected
me; but thy grace is infinite. Whenever I shall again return, forget
that I have ever separated myself from thee, for, when I return, it will
be--never to leave thee again."

The king could not restrain his emotion, and D'Artagnan, even, was
overcome. Louis bore the young girl away, lifted her into the carriage,
and directed D'Artagnan to seat himself beside her, while he, mounting
his horse, spurred violently toward the Palais-Royal, where, immediately
on his arrival, he sent to request an audience of Madame.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

MADAME.

From the manner in which the king had dismissed the ambassadors, even
the least clear-sighted persons belonging to the court had imagined war
would ensue. The ambassadors themselves, but slightly acquainted with
the king's domestic disturbances, had interpreted as directed against
themselves the celebrated sentence: "If I be not master of myself, I, at
least, will be so of those who insult me." Happily for the destinies of
France and Holland, Colbert had followed them out of the king's
presence, for the purpose of explaining matters to them; but the two
queens and Madame, who were perfectly aware of every particular
circumstance that had taken place in their several households, having
heard the remark so full of dark meaning, retired to their own
apartments in no little fear and chagrin. Madame, especially, felt that
the royal anger might fall upon her; and, as she was brave and
exceedingly proud, instead of seeking support and encouragement from the
queen-mother, she had returned to her own apartments, if not without
some uneasiness, at least without any intention of avoiding the
encounter. Anne of Austria, from time to time at frequent intervals,
sent messages to learn if the king had returned. The silence which the
whole palace preserved upon the matter, and upon Louise's disappearance,
was indicative of a long train of misfortunes to all those who knew the
haughty and irritable humor of the king. But Madame remained perfectly
unmoved, in spite of all the flying rumors, shut herself up in her
apartments, sent for Montalais, and, with a voice as calm as she could
possibly command, desired her to relate all she knew about the event
itself. At the moment that the eloquent Montalais was concluding, with