"Really, Louise, you wound me by your suspicions."

Louise did not answer, she merely looked steadfastly at him with that
clear, piercing gaze which penetrates the very heart, and said softly to
herself, "Alas! alas! it is not you of whom I am afraid--it is not you
upon whom my doubts would fall."

"Well," said the king, sighing, "I agree; and M. de Saint-Aignan, who
enjoys the inestimable privilege of reassuring you, shall always be
present at our conversations, I promise you."

"You promise that, sire?"

"Upon my honor as a gentleman; and you, on your side--"

"Oh, wait, sire, that is not all yet; for such conversations ought, at
least, to have a reasonable motive of some kind for M. de Saint-Aignan."

"Dear Louise, every shade of delicacy of feeling is yours, and my only
wish is to equal you on that point. It shall be just as you wish;
therefore our conversations shall have a reasonable motive, and I have
already hit upon one; so that from to-morrow, if you like--"

"To-morrow?"

"Do you mean that that is not soon enough?" exclaimed the king,
caressing La Valliere's hand between his own.

At this moment the sound of steps was heard in the corridor.

"Sire, sire!" cried La Valliere, "some one is coming; do you hear? Oh,
fly! fly! I implore you."

The king made but one bound from the chair where he was sitting to his
hiding-place behind the screen. He had barely time; for as he drew one
of the folds before him, the handle of the door was turned, and
Montalais appeared at the threshold. As a matter of course, she entered
quite naturally, and without any ceremony, for she knew perfectly well
that to knock at the door beforehand would be showing a suspicion toward
La Valliere which would be displeasing to her. She accordingly entered,
and after a rapid glance round the room, whereby she observed two chairs
very close to each other, she was so long in shutting the door, which
seemed to be difficult to close, one can hardly tell how or why, that
the king had ample time to raise the trap-door, and to descend again to
Saint-Aignan's room.

"Louise," she said to her, "I want to talk to you, and seriously, too."

"Good heavens! my dear Aure, what is the matter now?"

"The matter is that Madame suspects everything."

"Explain yourself."

"Is there any occasion for us to enter into explanations, and do you not
understand what I mean? Come, you must have noticed the fluctuations in
Madame's humor during severa