d his royal master. It
was a bold hazard, although the letter was weighted with the talisman of
a name that must needs recall an ancient friendship. Would that letter be
answered? Would that favor be granted? Would that appointment be kept?

For some time Lagardere paced the grass thoughtfully; for some
time--perhaps for a quarter of an hour--his solitude was undisturbed. At
the end of that time he emerged from the shadow of the trees, and,
standing at the foot of the bridge, surveyed the road that led to
Neuilly. What he saw upon the road seemed to give him the greatest
satisfaction. Three gentlemen were walking together in the direction of
the Inn. One was a very dandy-like young gentleman, very foppishly
habited, who seemed to skip through existence upon twinkling heels.
Another was a stiff, soldierly looking man of more than middle age, whom
Lagardere knew to be Captain Bonnivet, of the Royal Guards. The third,
who was the first of the group, was a man who, though still in the early
prime of life, looked as if he were fretted with the cares of many more
years than were his lot. He was a slender personage, with a long, pale
face. He was clad entirely in black, in emphasis of a mourning mind, and
as he walked he coughed from time to time, and shivered and looked about
him wistfully. But at the same time he seemed to affect a gay manner with
his companions, as one that aired a determination to be entertained. It
was seventeen years since Lagardere had seen the king, and he was
saddened at the change that the years had made in him. He could only pray
that those changing years had wrought no alteration in the affection of
Louis of France for Louis of Nevers.

XV

THE KING'S WORD

In a moment Lagardere enveloped himself in his gypsy's cloak and flung
himself on one of the benches of the Inn, where he lay as if wrapped in
the heavy sleep which is the privilege of those that live in the open air
and follow the stars with their feet. When the king, accompanied by
Chavernay and followed by Bonnivet, crossed the bridge and paused before
the Inn, nothing was to be noticed save the huddle of gray cloth which
represented some tired wayfarer.

Louis of France looked about him curiously. "Is this the Inn of the Three
Graces?" he asked.

He even allowed himself to laugh a small laugh.

The Marquis of Chavernay smiled a faint smile. "Yes, your majesty, and
since I have been privileged to behold two of its three attend