Amid these varied political and amorous interests, Malicorne was anxious to gain Montalais’s attention; but the latter preferred talking with Raoul, even if it were only to amuse herself with his innumerable questions and his astonishment. Raoul had gone directly to Mademoiselle de La Vallière, and had saluted her with the profoundest respect, at which Louise blushed, and could not say a word. Montalais, however, hurried to her assistance.
“Well, Monsieur le Vicomte, here we are, you see.”
“I do, indeed, see you,” said Raoul smiling, “and it is exactly because you are here that I wish to ask for some explanation.”
Malicorne approached the group with his most fascinating smile.
“Go away, Malicorne; really you are exceedingly indiscreet.” At this remark Malicorne bit his lips and retired a few steps, without making any reply. His smile, however, changed its expression, and from its former frankness, became mocking in its expression.
“You wished for an explanation, M. Raoul?” inquired Montalais.
“It is surely worth one, I think; Mademoiselle de La Vallière is a maid of honor to Madame!”
“Why should she not be a maid of honor, as well as myself?” inquired Montalais.
“Pray accept my compliments, young ladies,” said Raoul, who fancied he perceived they were not disposed to answer him in a direct manner.
“Your remark was not made in a very complimentary manner, vicomte.”
“Mine?”
“Certainly; I appeal to Louise.”
“M. de Bragelonne probably thinks the position is above my condition,” said Louise, hesitatingly.
“Assuredly not,” replied Raoul, eagerly, “you know very well that such is not my feeling; were you called upon to occupy a queen’s throne, I should not be surprised; how much greater reason, then, such a position as this? The only circumstance that amazes me is, that I should have learned it only today, and that by the merest accident.”
“That is true,” replied Montalais, with her usual giddiness; “you know nothing about it, and there is no reason you should. M. de Bragelonne had written several letters to you, but your mother was the only person who remained behind at Blois, and it was necessary to prevent these letters from falling into her hands; I intercepted them, and returned them to M. Raoul, so that he believed you were still at Blois while you were here in Paris, and had no idea whatever, indeed, how high you had risen in rank.”
“Did you not inform M. Raoul, as I begged you to do?”
“Why should I? to give him opportunity of making some of his severe remarks and moral reflections, and to undo what we have had so much trouble in effecting? Certainly not.”
“Am I so very severe, then?” said Raoul, inquiringly.
“Besides,” said Montalais, “it is sufficient to say that it suited me. I was about setting off for Paris—you were away; Louise was weeping her eyes out; interpret that as you please; I begged a friend, a protector of mine, who had obtained the appointment for me, to solicit one for Louise; the appointment arrived. Louise left in order to get her costume prepared; as I had my own ready, I remained behind; I received your letters, and returned them to you, adding a few words, promising you a surprise. Your surprise is before you, Monsieur, and seems to be a fair one enough; you have nothing more to ask. Come, M. Malicorne, it is now time to leave these young people together: they have many things to talk about; give me your hand; I trust that you appreciate the honor conferred upon you, M. Malicorne.”
“Forgive me,” said Raoul, arresting the giddy girl, and giving to his voice an intonation, the gravity of which contrasted with that of Montalais; “forgive me, but may I inquire the name of the protector you speak of; for if protection be extended towards you, Mademoiselle de Montalais—for which, indeed, so many reasons exist,” added Raoul, bowing, “I do not see that the same reasons exist why Mademoiselle de La Vallière should be similarly cared for.”
“But, M. Raoul,” said Louise, innocently, “there is no difference in the matter, and I do not see why I should not tell it you myself; it was M. Malicorne who obtained it for me.”
Raoul remained for a moment almost stupefied, asking himself if they were trifling with him; he then turned round to interrogate Malicorne, but he had been hurried away by Montalais, and was already at some distance from them. Mademoiselle de La Vallière attempted to follow her friend, but Raoul, with gentle authority, detained her.
“Louise, one word, I beg.”
“But, M. Raoul,” said Louise, blushing, “we are alone. Everyone has left. They will become anxious, and will be looking for us.”
“Fear nothing,” said the young man, smiling, “we are neither of us of sufficient importance for our absence to be remarked.”
“But I have my duty to perform, M. Raoul.”
“Do not be alarmed, I am acquainted with these usages of the court; you will not be on duty until tomorrow; a few minutes are at your disposal, which will enable you to give me the information I am about to have the honor to ask you for.”
“How serious you are, M. Raoul!” said Louise.
“Because the circumstances are serious. Are you listening?”
“I am listening; I would only repeat, Monsieur, that we are quite alone.”
“You are right,” said Raoul, and, offering her his hand, he led the young girl into the gallery adjoining the reception-room, the windows of which looked out upon the courtyard. Everyone hurried towards the middle window, which had a balcony outside, from which all the details of the slow and formal preparations for departure could be seen. Raoul opened one of the side
