lf from his embrace.

"Oh, heavens!" she murmured, "is not the sacrifice yet made?"

"No, no!" exclaimed the king, "and it shall _not_ be made, I swear."

Notwithstanding her weakness and utter despair, she rose from the
ground, saying, "It must be made, however; it must be; so do not stay me
in my purpose."

"I leave you to sacrifice yourself! I! never, never!" exclaimed the
king.

"Well," murmured D'Artagnan, "I may as well go now. As soon as they
begin to speak, we may as well prevent there being any listeners." And
he quitted the room, leaving the lovers alone.

"Sire," continued La Valliere, "not another word, I implore you. Do not
destroy the only future I can hope for--my salvation; do not destroy the
glory and brightness of your own future for a mere caprice."

"A caprice?" cried the king.

"Oh, sire! it is now, only, that I can see clearly into your heart."

"You, Louise, what mean you?"

"An inexplicable impulse, foolish and unreasonable in its nature, may
ephemerally appear to offer a sufficient excuse for your conduct; but
there are duties imposed upon you which are incompatible with your
regard for a poor girl such as I am. So, forget me."

"I forget you!"

"You have already done so, once."

"Rather would I die."

"You cannot love one whose peace of mind you hold so lightly, and whom
you so cruelly abandoned, last night, to the bitterness of death."

"What can you mean? Explain yourself, Louise."

"What did you ask me yesterday morning? To love you. What did you
promise me in return? Never to let midnight pass without offering me an
opportunity of reconciliation, if, by any chance, your anger should be
roused against me."

"Oh! forgive me, Louise, forgive me! I was mad from jealousy."

"Jealousy is a sentiment unworthy of a king--a man. You may become
jealous again, and will end by killing me. Be merciful, then, and leave
me now to die."

"Another word, mademoiselle, in that strain, and you will see me expire
at your feet."

"No, no, sire, I am better acquainted with my own demerits; and believe
me, that to sacrifice yourself for one whom all despise, would be
needless."

"Give me the names of those you have cause to complain of."

"I have no complaints, sire, to prefer against any one; no one but
myself to accuse. Farewell, sire; you are compromising yourself in
speaking to me in such a manner."

"Oh! be careful, Louise, in what you say; for you are reducing me to the
darknes