f to perform this service for your majesty. It is done;
now order as you please. M. Monk," added he, turning towards the
prisoner, "you are in the presence of his majesty Charles II., sovereign
lord of Great Britain."

Monk raised towards the prince his coldly stoical look, and replied: "I
know no king of Great Britain; I recognize even here no one worthy of
bearing the name of gentleman: for it is in the name of King Charles
II. that an emissary, whom I took for an honest man, came and laid an
infamous snare for me. I have fallen into that snare; so much the worse
for me. Now, you the tempter," said he to the king; "you the executor,"
said he to D'Artagnan; "remember what I am about to say to you: you have
my body, you may kill it, and I advise you to do so, for you shall never
have my mind or my will. And now, ask me not a single word, as from this
moment I will not open my mouth even to cry out. I have said."

And he pronounced these words with the savage, invincible resolution of
the most mortified Puritan. D'Artagnan looked at his prisoner like a man
who knows the value of every word, and who fixes that value according to
the accent with which it has been pronounced.

"The fact is," said he, in a whisper to the king, "the general is an
obstinate man; he would not take a mouthful of bread, nor swallow a drop
of wine, during the two days of our voyage. But as from this moment it
is your majesty who must decide his fate, I wash my hands of him."

Monk, erect, pale, and resigned, waited with his eyes fixed and his arms
folded. D'Artagnan turned towards him. "You will please to understand
perfectly," said he, "that your speech, otherwise very fine, does not
suit anybody, not even yourself. His majesty wished to speak to you, you
refused an interview; why, now that you are face to face, that you are
here by a force independent of your will, why do you confine yourself to
the rigors which I consider useless and absurd? Speak! what the devil!
speak, if only to say 'No.'"

Monk did not unclose his lips; Monk did not turn his eyes; Monk stroked
his mustache with a thoughtful air, which announced that matters were
going on badly.

During all this time Charles II. had fallen into a profound reverie. For
the first time he found himself face to face with Monk; with the man he
had so much desired to see; and, with that peculiar glance which God has
given to eagles and kings, he had fathomed the abyss of his heart. He
beheld