Bragelonne, with a bitter smile.

"I bribed the locksmith, in whom the lovers had confided. You can just
as well have done so as myself, can you not?"

"Yes, madame. Your royal highness, however, has no other advice or
caution to give me, except that of not betraying you."

"None other."

"I am about, therefore, to beg your royal highness to allow me to remain
here for one moment."

"Without me?"

"Oh! no, madame. It matters very little; for what I have to do can be
done in your presence. I only ask one moment to write a line to some
one."

"It is dangerous, Monsieur de Bragelonne. Take care."

"No one can possibly know that your royal highness has done me the honor
to conduct me here. Besides, I shall sign the letter I am going to
write."

"Do as you please, then."

Raoul drew out his tablet, and wrote rapidly on one of the leaves the
following words:

"MONSIEUR LE COMTE--Do not be surprised to find here this
paper signed by me; the friend whom I shall very shortly send to
call on you will have the honor to explain the object of my visit
to you.

"VICOMTE RAOUL DE BRAGELONNE."

He rolled up the paper, slipped it into the lock of the door which
communicated with the room set apart for the two lovers, and satisfied
himself that the paper was so apparent that Saint-Aignan could not but
see it as he entered; he rejoined the princess, who had already reached
the top of the staircase. They then separated. Raoul pretending to thank
her highness; Henrietta pitying, or seeming to pity, with all her heart,
the poor, wretched young man she had just condemned to such fearful
torture. "Oh!" she said, as she saw him disappear, pale as death, and
his eyes injected with blood, "if I had known this, I should have
concealed the truth from that poor gentleman."

CHAPTER LXI.

PORTHOS' PLAN OF ACTION.

The numerous individuals we have introduced into this long story is the
cause of each of them being obliged to appear only in his own turn, and
according to the exigencies of the recital. The result is, that our
readers have had no opportunity of again meeting our friend Porthos
since his return from Fontainebleau. The honors which he had received
from the king had not changed the easy, affectionate character of that
excellent-hearted man; he may, perhaps, have held up his head a little
higher than usual, and a majesty of demeanor, as it were, may have
betrayed itself since the honor