ant graces
in the flesh, and found them most commendable girls and goddesses, I
think, without indiscretion, I could hazard a guess as to your reason for
this visit."

The king looked at his impudent companion with the complaisant good-humor
which, since his much-talked-of bereavement, he was prepared to extend
to those most fortunate among his courtiers who could succeed in
diverting his melancholy. He was familiar with Chavernay's impertinences,
for Chavernay had soon discovered that the witticisms which would have
gained the frown of the cardinal earned the smiles of the king. "Truly,"
he said--"truly, I do come for an assignation, but it is with no woman.
You boys think of nothing in the world but women."

Chavernay made the king a most sweeping reverence. "Your majesty would,
if your majesty deigned to condescend so far, prove the most fatal rival
of your most amorous subject."

Since the death of the cardinal, Louis liked it to be hinted that he was
still the man of gallantry, irresistible when he pleased. So he smiled as
he caught Chavernay's ear and pinched it. "Imp, do you think you lads are
the only gallants, and that we old soldiers must give way to you?"

Chavernay saluted him again. "You are our general, your majesty--we win
our battles in your name."

Louis laughed and then looked grave, smiled again and then sighed. "My
dear Chavernay, when you are my age you will think that one pretty woman
is very like another pretty woman. But there is no pretty woman in this
case."

Chavernay made a still more ironical bow. "Your majesty!" he said, with
an air that implied: "Of course I must appear to believe you, but in
reality I do not believe you at all." Chavernay was thinking to himself
of the adorable creatures whom he had seen disappear within the walls of
the Inn and the walls of the caravan, and he drew his conclusions
accordingly, and drew them wrong. When the king answered him, he
answered, gravely, as one who objects to have his word questioned even by
a frivolous spirit like Chavernay.

"I come here," he said, "in reply to a letter I received two days ago--a
letter which appeals to me by a name which compels me to consider the
appeal. That is why I come here to-day. My correspondent makes it a
condition that I come alone. Take Bonnivet with you. Keep within call,
but out of sight."

Chavernay bowed very respectfully this time. The newest friends of Louis
of France knew that they best pleased him