through the opening he had made.

"A woman," said Aramis.

"And a man," said Fouquet.

"It is La Valliere and the king," they both exclaimed together.

"Oh, oh!" said Aramis, "is his majesty aware of your cavern as well? I
should not be astonished if he were, for he seems to be on very good
terms with the nymphs of Fontainebleau."

"It matters little," said Fouquet; "let us get there; if he is not aware
of it we shall see what he will do; if he should know it, as it has two
entrances, while he enters by one, we can leave by the other."

"Is it far?" asked Aramis, "for the rain is beginning to penetrate."

"We are there now," said Fouquet, as he put aside a few branches, and an
excavation of the rock could be observed, which had been entirely
concealed by heaths, ivy, and a thick covert of small shrubs.

Fouquet led the way, followed by Aramis; but as the latter entered the
grotto, he turned round, saying: "Yes, they are now entering the wood;
and, see, they are bending their steps this way."

"Very well; let us make room for them," said Fouquet, smiling and
pulling Aramis by his cloak; "but I do not think the king knows of my
grotto."

"Yes," said Aramis, "they are looking about them, but it is only for a
thicker tree."

Aramis was not mistaken, the king's looks were directed upward, and not
around him. He held La Valliere's arm within his own, and held her hand
in his. La Valliere's feet began to slip on the damp grass. Louis again
looked round him with greater attention than before, and perceiving an
enormous oak with wide-spreading branches, he hurriedly drew La
Valliere beneath its protecting shelter. The poor girl looked round her
on all sides, and seemed half afraid, half desirous, of being followed.
The king made her lean her back against the trunk of the tree, whose
vast circumference, protected by the thickness of the foliage, was as
dry as if at that moment the rain had not been falling in torrents. He
himself remained standing before her with his head uncovered. After a
few minutes, however, some drops of rain penetrated through the branches
of the tree and fell on the king's forehead, who did not pay any
attention to it.

"Oh, sire!" murmured La Valliere, pushing the king's hat toward him. But
the king simply bowed, and determinedly refused to cover his head.

"Now or never is the time to offer your place," said Fouquet in Aramis'
ear.

"Now or never is the time to listen, and not lose a syl