e it so. Come with me, then."

CHAPTER LX.

A DOMICILIARY VISIT.

The princess, preceding Raoul, led him through the courtyard toward that
part of the building which La Valliere inhabited, and, ascending the
same staircase which Raoul had himself ascended that very morning, she
paused at the door of the room in which the young man had been so
strangely received by Montalais. The opportunity had been well chosen to
carry out the project which Madame Henrietta had conceived, for the
chateau was empty. The king, the courtiers, and the ladies of the court
had set off for St. Germain; Madame Henrietta was the only one who knew
of Bragelonne's return, and, thinking over the advantages which might be
drawn from this return, had feigned indisposition in order to remain
behind. Madame was therefore confident of finding La Valliere's room and
Saint-Aignan's apartment perfectly empty. She took a pass-key from her
pocket and opened the door of her maid of honor's apartment.
Bragelonne's gaze was immediately fixed upon the interior of the room,
which he recognized at once; and the impression which the sight of it
produced upon him was one of the first tortures which awaited him. The
princess looked at him, and her practiced eye could at once detect what
was passing in the young man's heart.

"You asked me for proofs," she said, "do not be astonished, then, if I
give you them. But if you do not think you have courage enough to
confront them, there is still time to withdraw."

"I thank you, madame," said Bragelonne; "but I came here to be
convinced. You promised to convince me--do so."

"Enter, then," said Madame, "and shut the door behind you."

Bragelonne obeyed, and then turned toward the princess, whom he
interrogated by a look.

"You know where you are, I suppose?" inquired Madame Henrietta.

"Everything leads me to believe I am in Mademoiselle de la Valliere's
room."

"You are."

"But I would observe to your highness that this room is a room, and is
not a proof."

"Wait," said the princess, as she walked to the foot of the bed, folded
up the screen into its several compartments, and stooped down toward the
floor. "Look here," she continued; "stoop down, and lift up this
trap-door yourself."

"A trap-door!" said Raoul, astonished; for D'Artagnan's words began to
return to his memory, and he had an indistinct recollection that
D'Artagnan had made use of the same word. He looked, but uselessly so,
for some