the joys; but in the one
he took his part, knowing very well how to do without the other.

Now, he was leaning, as we have said, against the carved door-frame when
the melancholy, weary eyes of the king, by chance, met his.

It was not the first time, as it appeared, that the eyes of the officer
had met those eyes, and he was perfectly acquainted with the expression
of them; for, as soon as he had cast his own look upon the countenance
of Louis XIV., and had read by it what was passing in his heart--that is
to say, all the _ennui_ that oppressed him--all the timid desire to go
out which agitated him,--he perceived he must render the king a
service without his commanding it,--almost in spite of himself. Boldly,
therefore, as if he had given the word of command to cavalry in battle,
"On the king's service!" cried he, in a clear, sonorous voice.

At these words, which produced the effect of a peal of thunder,
prevailing over the orchestra, the singing and the buzz of the
promenaders, the cardinal and the queen-mother looked at each other with
surprise.

Louis XIV., pale, but resolved, supported as he was by that intuition
of his own thought which he had found in the mind of the officer of
musketeers, and which he had just manifested by the order given, arose
from his chair, and took a step towards the door.

"Are you going, my son?" said the queen, whilst Mazarin satisfied
himself with interrogating by a look which might have appeared mild if
it had not been so piercing.

"Yes, madame," replied the king; "I am fatigued, and, besides, wish to
write this evening."

A smile stole over the lips of the minister, who appeared, by a bend of
the head, to give the king permission.

Monsieur and Madame hastened to give orders to the officers who
presented themselves.

The king bowed, crossed the hall, and gained the door, where a hedge of
twenty musketeers awaited him. At the extremity of this hedge stood the
officer, impassible, with his drawn sword in his hand. The king passed,
and all the crowd stood on tip-toe, to have one more look at him.

Ten musketeers, opening the crowd of the ante-chambers and the steps,
made way for his majesty. The other ten surrounded the king and
Monsieur, who had insisted upon accompanying his majesty. The domestics
walked behind. This little _cortege_ escorted the king to the chamber
destined for him. The apartment was the same that had been occupied by
Henry III. during his sojourn in th