down to him."

"We will live in hope," said Saint-Aignan; "and now I am off to his
majesty. At what time will the carpenter be here?"

"At eight o'clock."

"How long do you suppose he will take to make this opening?"

"About a couple of hours; only afterward he must have sufficient time to
effect what may be called the junction between the two rooms. One night
and a portion of the following day will do; we must not reckon upon less
than two days, including putting up the staircase."

"Two days! That is very long."

"Nay; when one undertakes to open a door into paradise itself, we must
at least take care it is properly done."

"Quite right; so farewell for a short time, dear M. Malicorne. I shall
begin to remove the day after to-morrow, in the evening."

CHAPTER XLI.

THE PROMENADE BY TORCHLIGHT.

Saint-Aignan, delighted with what he had just heard, and rejoiced at
what the future foreshadowed for him, bent his steps toward De Guiche's
two rooms. He who, a quarter of an hour previously, would not have
yielded up his own rooms for a million of francs, was now ready to
expend a million, if it were necessary, upon the acquisition of the two
happy rooms he coveted so eagerly. But he did not meet with so many
obstacles. M. de Guiche did not yet know whereabouts he was to lodge,
and, besides, was still far too suffering to trouble himself about his
lodgings; and so Saint-Aignan obtained De Guiche's two rooms without
difficulty. As for M. Dangeau, he was so immeasurably delighted that he
did not even give himself the trouble to think whether Saint-Aignan had
any particular reason for removing. Within an hour after Saint-Aignan's
new resolution, he was in possession of the two rooms; and ten minutes
later Malicorne entered, followed by the upholsterers. During this time,
the king asked for Saint-Aignan: the valet ran to his late apartments
and found M. Dangeau there; Dangeau sent him on to De Guiche's, and
Saint-Aignan was found there; but a little delay had of course taken
place, and the king had already exhibited once or twice evident signs of
impatience, when Saint-Aignan entered his royal master's presence, quite
out of breath. "You, too, abandon me, then," said Louis XIV., in a
similar tone of lamentation to that with which Caesar, eighteen hundred
years previously, had used the _tu quoque_.

"Sire, I am very far from abandoning you; for, on the contrary, I am
busily occupied in changing my lodgings."