THE

VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE.




CHAPTER I.

SHOWING WHAT NEITHER THE NAIAD NOR DRYAD HAD ANTICIPATED.


Saint-Aignan stopped at the foot of the staircase which led to the
_entresol_, where the maids of honor were lodged, and to the first
floor, where Madame's apartments were situated. Then, by means of one of
the servants who was passing, he sent to apprise Malicorne, who was
still with Monsieur. After having waited ten minutes, Malicorne arrived,
looking full of suspicion and importance. The king drew back toward the
darkest part of the vestibule. Saint-Aignan, on the contrary, advanced
to meet him, but at the first words, indicating his wish, Malicorne drew
back abruptly.

"Oh! oh!" he said, "you want me to introduce you into the rooms of the
maids of honor?"

"Yes."

"You know very well that I cannot do anything of the kind, without being
made acquainted with your object."

"Unfortunately, my dear Monsieur Malicorne, it is quite impossible for
me to give you any explanation: you must therefore confide in me as in a
friend who got you out of a great difficulty yesterday, and who now begs
you to draw him out of one to-day."

"Yet, I told you, monsieur, what my object was; that my object was not
to sleep out in the open air, and any man might express the same wish,
while you, however, admit nothing."

"Believe me, my dear Monsieur Malicorne," Saint-Aignan persisted, "that
if I were permitted to explain myself, I would do so."

"In that case, my dear monsieur, it is impossible for me to allow you to
enter Mademoiselle de Montalais's apartment."

"Why so?"

"You know why better than any one else, since you caught me on the wall
paying my addresses to Mademoiselle de Montalais; it would, therefore,
be an excess of kindness, on my part, you will admit, since I am paying
my attentions to her, to open the door of her room to you."

"But who told you it was on her account I asked you for the key?"

"For whom, then?"

"She does not lodge there alone, I suppose?"

"No, certainly; for Mademoiselle de la Valliere shares her rooms with
her; but, really, you have nothing more to do with Mademoiselle de la
Valliere than with Mademoiselle de Montalais, and there are only two men
to whom I would give this key; to M. de Bragelonne, if he begged me to
give it him, and to the king if he ordered me to do so."

"In that case, give me the key, monsieur, I order you to do so," said
the king, advancing from the obscurity, and partially opening his cloak.
"Mademoiselle de Montalais will step down to talk with you, while we go
upstairs to Mademoiselle de la Valliere, for, in fact, it is she only
whom we require."

"The king," exclaimed Malicorne, bowing down to the very ground.

"Yes, the king," said Louis, smiling, "the king, who is as pleased with
your resistance as with your capitulation. Rise, monsieur, and render
us the service we request of you."

"I obey your majesty," said Malicorne, leading the way up the staircase.

"Get Mademoiselle de Montalais to come down," said the king, "and do not
breathe a word to her of my visit."

Malicorne bowed in sign of obedience, and proceeded up the staircase.
But the king, after a hasty reflection, followed him, and that, too,
with such rapidity, that although Malicorne was already more than
half-way up the staircase, the king reached the room at the same moment
he did. He then observed by the door which remained half-opened behind
Malicorne, La Valliere, sitting in an armchair with her head thrown
back, and in the opposite corner Montalais, who, in her dressing-gown,
was standing before a looking-glass, engaged in arranging her hair, and
parleying all the while with Malicorne. The king hurriedly opened the
door, and entered the room. Montalais called out at the noise made by
the opening of the door, and, recognizing the king, made her escape. La
Valliere rose from her seat, like a dead person who had been galvanized,
and then fell back again in her armchair. The king advanced slowly
toward her.

"You wished for an audience, I believe," he said, coldly; "I am ready to
hear you. Speak."

Saint-Aignan, faithful to his character of being deaf, blind, and dumb,
had stationed himself in a corner of the door, upon a stool which he
fortuitously found there. Concealed by the tapestry which covered the
doorway, and leaning his back against the wall, he could in this way
listen without been seen; resigning himself to the post of a good