ire, and I shall owe you more than I owe my father,--my
poor father, who bought at so dear a rate the ruin of our house! You may
judge, sire, whether I am unhappy, whether I am in despair, for I accuse
my own father!"

And the blood mounted to the pale face of Charles II., who remained for
an instant with his head between his hands, and as if blinded by that
blood which appeared to revolt against the filial blasphemy.

The young king was not less affected than his elder brother; he threw
himself about in his _fauteuil_, and could not find a single word of
reply.

Charles II., to whom ten years in age gave a superior strength to master
his emotions, recovered his speech the first.

"Sire," said he, "your reply? I wait for it as a criminal waits for his
sentence. Must I die?"

"My brother," replied the French prince, "you ask of me for a
million--me, who was never possessed of a quarter of that sum! I possess
nothing. I am no more king of France than you are king of England. I am
a name, a cipher dressed in _fleur-de-lised_ velvet,--that is all. I am
upon a visible throne; that is my only advantage over your majesty. I
have nothing--I can do nothing."

"Can it be so?" exclaimed Charles II.

"My brother," said Louis, sinking his voice, "I have undergone miseries
with which my poorest gentlemen are unacquainted. If my poor Laporte
were here, he would tell you that I have slept in ragged sheets,
through the holes of which my legs have passed; he would tell you that
afterwards, when I asked for carriages, they brought me conveyances
half-destroyed by the rats of the coach-houses; he would tell you that
when I asked for my dinner, the servants went to the cardinal's kitchen
to inquire if there were any dinner for the king. And look! to-day, this
very day even, when I am twenty-two years of age,--to-day, when I have
attained the grade of the majority of kings,--to-day, when I ought to
have the key of the treasury, the direction of the policy, the supremacy
in peace and war,--cast your eyes around me, see how I am left! Look
at this abandonment--this disdain--this silence!--Whilst yonder--look
yonder! View the bustle, the lights, the homage! There!--there you see
the real king of France, my brother!"

"In the cardinal's apartments?"

"Yes, in the cardinal's apartments."

"Then I am condemned, sire?"

Louis XIV. made no reply.

"Condemned is the word; for I will never solicit him who left my mother
and sister to d