stening. Before the door opened I had already conceived a score of
disasters. I wondered that I had not inquired earlier concerning the
king's safety, and in fine I experienced in a moment that complete
reaction of the spirits which is too frequently consequent upon an
excessive flow of gaiety.

I was prepared, therefore, for heavy looks, but not for the persons who
wore them nor the strange bearing the latter displayed on entering. My
visitors proved to be M. d'Agen and Simon Fleix. And so far well. But
the former, instead of coming forward to greet me with the punctilious
politeness which always characterised him, and which I had thought to
be proof against every kind of surprise and peril, met me with downcast
eyes and a countenance so gloomy as to augment my fears a hundredfold;
since it suggested all those vague and formidable pains which M. de
Rambouillet had hinted might await me in a prison. I thought nothing
more probable than the entrance after them of a gaoler laden with gyves
and handcuffs; and saluting M. Francois with a face which, do what I
would, fashioned itself upon his, I had scarce composure sufficient to
place the poor accommodation of my room at his disposal.

He thanked me; but he did it with so much gloom and so little
naturalness that I grew more impatient with each laboured syllable.
Simon Fleix had slunk to the window and turned his back on us. Neither
seemed to have anything to say. But a state of suspense was one which I
could least endure to suffer; and impatient of the constraint which
my friend's manner was fast imparting to mine, I asked him at once and
abruptly if his uncle had returned.

'He rode in about midnight,' he answered, tracing a pattern on the floor
with the point of his riding-switch.

I felt some surprise on hearing this, since d'Agen was still dressed
and armed for the road, and was without all those prettinesses
which commonly marked his attire. But as he volunteered no further
information, and did not even refer to the place in which he found me,
or question me as to the adventures which had lodged me there, I let it
pass, and asked him if his party had overtaken the deserters.

'Yes,' he answered, 'with no result.'

'And the king?'

'M. de Rambouillet is with him now,' he rejoined, still bending over his
tracing.

This answer relieved the worst of my anxieties, but the manner of
the speaker was so distrait and so much at variance with the studied
INSOUCIANCE w