“Monsieur le Comte de la Fère,” said the king rapidly, “you are so seldom here, that it is a real piece of good fortune to see you.”
Athos bowed and replied, “I should wish always to enjoy the happiness of being near Your Majesty.”
The tone, however, in which this reply was conveyed, evidently signified, “I should wish to be one of Your Majesty’s advisers, to save you the commission of faults.” The king felt it so, and determined in this man’s presence to preserve all the advantages which could be derived from his command over himself, as well as from his rank and position.
“I see you have something to say to me,” he said.
“Had it not been so, I should not have presumed to present myself before Your Majesty.”
“Speak quickly, I am anxious to satisfy you,” returned the king, seating himself.
“I am persuaded,” replied Athos, in a somewhat agitated tone of voice, “that Your Majesty will give me every satisfaction.”
“Ah!” said the king, with a certain haughtiness of manner, “you have come to lodge a complaint here, then?”
“It would be a complaint,” returned Athos, “only in the event of Your Majesty—but if you will deign to permit me, sire, I will begin the conversation from the very commencement.”
“Do so, I am listening.”
“Your Majesty will remember that at the period of the Duke of Buckingham’s departure, I had the honor of an interview with you.”
“At or about that period, I think I remember you did; only, with regard to the subject of the conversation, I have quite forgotten it.”
Athos started, as he replied. “I shall have the honor to remind Your Majesty of it. It was with regard to a formal demand I had addressed to you respecting a marriage which M. de Bragelonne wished to contract with Mademoiselle de La Vallière.”
Ah!
thought the king, we have come to it now.
—“I remember,” he said, aloud.
“At that period,” pursued Athos, “Your Majesty was so kind and generous towards M. de Bragelonne and myself, that not a single word which then fell from your lips has escaped my memory; and, when I asked Your Majesty to accord me Mademoiselle de La Vallière’s hand for M. de Bragelonne, you refused.”
“Quite true,” said Louis, dryly.
“Alleging,” Athos hastened to say, “that the young lady had no position in society.”
Louis could hardly force himself to listen with an appearance of royal propriety.
“That,” added Athos, “she had but little fortune.”
The king threw himself back in his armchair.
“That her extraction was indifferent.”
A renewed impatience on the part of the king.
“And little beauty,” added Athos, pitilessly.
This last bolt buried itself deep in the king’s heart, and made him almost bound from his seat.
“You have a good memory, Monsieur,” he said.
“I invariably have, on occasions when I have had the distinguished honor of an interview with Your Majesty,” retorted the comte, without being in the least disconcerted.
“Very good: it is admitted that I said all that.”
“And I thanked Your Majesty for your remarks at the time, because they testified an interest in M. de Bragelonne which did him much honor.”
“And you may possibly remember,” said the king, very deliberately, “that you had the greatest repugnance for this marriage.”
“Quite true, sire.”
“And that you solicited my permission, much against your own inclination?”
“Yes, sire.”
“And finally, I remember, for I have a memory nearly as good as your own; I remember, I say, that you observed at the time: ‘I do not believe that Mademoiselle de La Vallière loves M. de Bragelonne.’ Is that true?”
The blow told well, but Athos did not draw back. “Sire,” he said, “I have already begged Your Majesty’s forgiveness; but there are certain particulars in that conversation which are only intelligible from the denouement.”
“Well, what is the denouement, Monsieur?”
“This: that Your Majesty then said, ‘that you would defer the marriage out of regard for M. de Bragelonne’s own interests.’ ”
The king remained silent. “M. de Bragelonne is now so exceedingly unhappy that he cannot any longer defer asking Your Majesty for a solution of the matter.”
The king turned pale; Athos looked at him with fixed attention.
“And what,” said the king, with considerable hesitation, “does M. de Bragelonne request?”
“Precisely the very thing that I came to ask Your Majesty for at my last audience, namely, Your Majesty’s consent to his marriage.”
The king remained perfectly silent. “The questions which referred to the different obstacles in the way are all now quite removed for us,” continued Athos. “Mademoiselle de La Vallière, without fortune, birth, or beauty, is not the less on that account the only good match in the world for M. de Bragelonne, since he loves this young girl.”
The king pressed his hands impatiently together. “Does Your Majesty hesitate?” inquired the comte, without losing a particle of either his firmness or his politeness.
“I do not hesitate—I refuse,” replied the king.
Athos paused a moment, as if to collect himself: “I have had the honor,” he said, in a mild tone, “to observe to Your Majesty that no obstacle now interferes with M. de Bragelonne’s affections, and that his determination seems unalterable.”
“There is my will—and that is an obstacle, I should imagine!”
“That is the most serious of all,” Athos replied quickly.
“Ah!”
“And may we, therefore, be permitted to ask Your Majesty, with the greatest
