possible, M. de Crillon,' he said gravely. 'Quite impossible at
present.'

'Impossible! Chut! I do not know the word,' Crillon retorted rudely.
'Come, take him at once, and blame me if ill comes of it. Do you hear?'

'But his Majesty--'

'Well?'

'Is at his devotions,' the secretary said stiffly.

'His Majesty's devotions be hanged!' Crillon rejoined--so loudly that
there was a general titter, and M. de Nevers laughed grimly. 'Do you
hear?' the Avennais continued, his face growing redder and his voice
higher, 'or must I pull your ears, my friend? Take this gentleman to the
closet, I say, and if his Majesty be angry, tell him it was by my order.
I tell you he comes from Rambouillet.'

I do not know whether it was the threat, or the mention of M. de
Rambouillet's name, which convinced the secretary. But at any rate,
after a moment's hesitation, he acquiesced.

He nodded sullenly to me to follow him, and led the way to a curtain
which masked the door of the closet. I followed him across the chamber,
after muttering a hasty word of acknowledgment to Crillon; and I had as
nearly as possible reached the door when the bustle of some one entering
the chamber caught my ear. I had just time to turn and see that this
was Bruhl, just time to intercept the dark look of chagrin and surprise
which he fixed on me, and then Revol, holding up the curtain, signed to
me to enter.

I expected to pass at once into the presence of the king, and had my
reverence ready. Instead, I found myself to my surprise in a small
chamber, or rather passage, curtained at both ends, and occupied by a
couple of guardsmen--members, doubtless, of the Band of the Forty-Five
who rose at my entrance and looked at me dubiously. Their guard-room,
dimly illumined by a lamp of red glass, seemed to me, in spite of its
curtains and velvet bench, and the thick tapestry which kept out every
breath of wholesome air, the most sombre I could imagine. And the most
ill-omened. But I had no time to make any long observation; for Revol,
passing me brusquely, raised the curtain at the other end, and, with his
finger on his lip, bade me by signs to enter.

I did so as silently, the heavy scent of perfumes striking me in the
face as I raised a second curtain, and stopped short a pace beyond
it; partly in reverence--because kings love their subjects best at a
distance--and partly in surprise. For the room, or rather that portion
of it in which I stood, was in darkness; o