he heavens with the
speed of the wings of the wind. "Well, Louise," said the king, in a low
tone of voice, "will you still threaten me with the anger of Heaven?
and, since you wished to regard the storm as a presentiment, will you
still believe that presentiment to be one of misfortune?"

The young girl looked up, and saw that while they had been talking the
rain had penetrated the foliage above them, and was trickling down the
king's face. "Oh, sire, sire!" she exclaimed, in accents of eager
apprehension, which greatly agitated the king. "It is for me," she
murmured, "that the king remains thus uncovered, and exposed to the
rain. What am I, then?"

"You are, you perceive," said the king, "the divinity who dissipates the
storm, and brings back fine weather." In fact, a ray of sunlight
streamed through the forest, and caused the rain-drops which rested upon
the leaves, or fell vertically among the openings in the branches of the
trees, to glisten like diamonds.

"Sire," said La Valliere, almost overcome, but making a powerful effort
over herself, "think of the anxieties your majesty will have to submit
to on my account. At this very moment they are seeking you in every
direction. The queen must be full of uneasiness; and Madame--oh,
Madame!" the young girl exclaimed, with an expression which almost
resembled terror.

This name had a certain effect upon the king. He started, and disengaged
himself from La Valliere, whom he had, till that moment, held pressed
against his heart. He then advanced toward the path, in order to look
round, and returned, somewhat thoughtfully, to La Valliere. "Madame, did
you say?" he remarked.

"Yes, Madame; she, too, is jealous," said La Valliere, with a marked
tone of voice; and her eyes, so timorous in their expression, and so
modestly fugitive in their glance, for a moment ventured to look
inquiringly in the king's eyes.

"Still," returned Louis, making an effort over himself, "it seems to me
that Madame has no reason, no right to be jealous of me."

"Alas!" murmured La Valliere.

"Are you, too," said the king, almost in a tone of reproach, "are you
among those who think the sister has a right to be jealous of the
brother?"

"It is not for me, sire, to penetrate your majesty's secrets."

"You do believe it, then?" exclaimed the king.

"I do believe Madame is jealous, sire," La Valliere replied, firmly.

"Is it possible," said the king, with some anxiety, "that you have
perce