with human nature.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

WHICH TREATS OF GARDENERS, OF LADDERS, AND MAIDS OF HONOR.

Miracles, unfortunately, could not always last forever, while Madame's
ill-humor still continued to last. In a week's time, matters had reached
such a point that the king could no longer look at La Valliere without a
look full of suspicion crossing his own. Whenever a promenade was
proposed, Madame, in order to avoid the recurrence of similar scenes to
that of the thunderstorm, or the royal oak, had a variety of
indispositions ready prepared; and, thanks to them, she was unable to go
out, and her maids of honor were obliged to remain indoors also. There
was not the slightest chance or means of paying a nocturnal visit; for,
in this respect, the king had, on the very first occasion, experienced a
severe check, which happened in the following manner. As at
Fontainebleau, he had taken Saint-Aignan with him one evening, when he
wished to pay La Valliere a visit; but he had found no one but
Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, who had begun to call out fire and
thieves in such a manner that a perfect legion of chambermaids,
attendants, and pages ran to her assistance; so that Saint-Aignan, who
had remained behind in order to save the honor of his royal master, who
had fled precipitately, was obliged to submit to a severe scolding from
the queen-mother, as well as from Madame herself. In addition, he had,
the next morning, received two challenges from the De Montemart family,
and the king had been obliged to interfere. This mistake had been owing
to the circumstance of Madame having suddenly ordered a change in the
apartments of her maids of honor, and directed La Valliere and Montalais
to sleep in her own cabinet. Nothing, therefore, was now possible, not
even any communication by letter; to write under the eyes of so
ferocious an Argus as Madame, whose kindness of disposition was so
uncertain, was to run the risk of exposure to the greatest dangers; and
it can well be conceived into what a state of continuous irritation, and
of ever increasing anger, all these petty annoyance threw the young
lion. The king almost tormented himself to death in endeavoring to
discover a means of communication; and, as he did not think proper to
call in the aid of Malicorne or D'Artagnan, the means were not
discovered at all. Malicorne had, indeed, some occasional brilliant
flashes of imagination, with which he tried to inspire the king with