elate followed Louis in his escapade as
wary huntsmen might watch a young deer which gambols about in the meadow
under the impression that it is masterless, when every gap and path is
netted, and it is in truth as much in their hands as though it were
lying bound before them. They knew how short a time it would be before
some ache, some pain, some chance word, would bring his mortality home
to him again, and envelop him once more in those superstitious terrors
which took the place of religion in his mind. They waited, therefore,
and they silently planned how the prodigal might best be dealt with on
his return.

To this end it was that his confessor, Pere la Chaise, and Bossuet, the
great Bishop of Meaux, waited one morning upon Madame de Maintenon in
her chamber. With a globe beside her, she was endeavouring to teach
geography to the lame Due du Maine and the mischievous little Comte de
Toulouse, who had enough of their father's disposition to make them
averse to learning, and of their mother's to cause them to hate any
discipline or restraint. Her wonderful tact, however, and her
unwearying patience had won the love and confidence even of these little
perverse princes, and it was one of Madame de Montespan's most bitter
griefs that not only her royal lover, but even her own children, turned
away from the brilliancy and riches of her salon to pass their time in
the modest apartment of her rival.

Madame de Maintenon dismissed her two pupils, and received the
ecclesiastics with the mixture of affection and respect which was due to
those who were not only personal friends, but great lights of the
Gallican Church. She had suffered the minister Louvois to sit upon a
stool in her presence, but the two chairs were allotted to the priests
now, and she insisted upon reserving the humbler seat for herself. The
last few days had cast a pallor over her face which spiritualised and
refined the features, but she wore unimpaired the expression of sweet
serenity which was habitual to her.

"I see, my dear daughter, that you have sorrowed," said Bossuet,
glancing at her with a kindly and yet searching eye.

"I have indeed, your Grace. All last night I spent in prayer that this
trial may pass away from us."

"And yet you have no need for fear, madame--none, I assure you. Others
may think that your influence has ceased; but we, who know the king's
heart, we think otherwise. A few days may pass, a few weeks at the
most, and