"Sire, look well into the case as it stands; we were living on the most friendly understanding, and by the artfulness of her tales and complaints, she has set your majesty against me."
"I swear to you," said the king, "that on no occasion has a bitter word ever pa.s.sed her lips; I swear that, even in my wildest bursts of pa.s.sion, she would not allow me to menace any one; and I swear, too, that you do not possess a more devoted and respectful friend than she is."
"Friend!" said Madame, with an expression of supreme disdain.
"Take care, Madame!" said the king; "you forget that you now understand me, and that from this moment everything is equalized. Mademoiselle de la Valliere will be whatever I may choose her to become; and to-morrow, if I were determined to do so, I could seat her on a throne."
"She was not born to a throne, at least, and whatever you may do can affect the future alone, but cannot affect the past."
"Madame, towards you I have shown every kind consideration, and every eager desire to please you; do not remind me that I am master."
"It is the second time, sire, that you have made that remark, and I have already informed you I am ready to submit."
"In that case, then, you will confer upon me the favor of receiving Mademoiselle de la Valliere back again."
"For what purpose, sire, since you have a throne to bestow upon her? I am too insignificant to protect so exalted a personage."
"Nay, a truce to this bitter and disdainful spirit. Grant me her forgiveness."
"_Never!_"
"You drive me, then, to open warfare in my own family."
"I, too, have a family with whom I can find refuge."
"Do you mean that as a threat, and could you forget yourself so far? Do you believe that, if you push the affront to that extent, your family would encourage you?"
"I hope, sire, that you will not force me to take any step which would be unworthy of my rank."
"I hoped that you would remember our recent friendship, and that you would treat me as a brother."
Madame paused for a moment. "I do not disown you for a brother," she said, "in refusing your majesty an injustice."
"An injustice!"
"Oh, sire! if I informed others of La Valliere"s conduct; if the queen knew--"
"Come, come, Henrietta, let your heart speak; remember that, for however brief a time, you once loved me; remember, too, that human hearts should be as merciful as the heart of a sovereign Master. Do not be inflexible with others; forgive La Valliere."
"I cannot; she has offended me."
"But for my sake."
"Sire, it is for your sake I would do anything in the world, except that."
"You will drive me to despair--you compel me to turn to the last resource of weak people, and seek counsel of my angry and wrathful disposition."
"I advise you to be reasonable."
"Reasonable!--I can be so no longer."
"Nay, sire! I pray you--"
"For pity"s sake, Henrietta; it is the first time I entreated any one, and I have no hope in any one but in you."
"Oh, sire! you are weeping."
"From rage, from humiliation. That I, the king, should have been obliged to descend to entreaty. I shall hate this moment during my whole life.
You have made me suffer in one moment more distress and more degradation than I could have antic.i.p.ated in the greatest extremity in life." And the king rose and gave free vent to his tears, which, in fact, were tears of anger and shame.
Madame was not touched exactly--for the best women, when their pride is hurt, are without pity; but she was afraid that the tears the king was shedding might possibly carry away every soft and tender feeling in his heart.
"Give what commands you please, sire," she said; "and since you prefer my humiliation to your own--although mine is public and yours has been witnessed but by myself alone--speak, I will obey your majesty."
"No, no, Henrietta!" exclaimed Louis, transported with grat.i.tude, "you will have yielded to a brother"s wishes."
"I no longer have any brother, since I obey."
"All that I have would be too little in return."
"How pa.s.sionately you love, sire, when you do love!"
Louis did not answer. He had seized upon Madame"s hand and covered it with kisses. "And so you will receive this poor girl back again, and will forgive her; you will find how gentle and pure-hearted she is."
"I will maintain her in my household."
"No, you will give her your friendship, my sister."
"I never liked her."
"Well, for my sake, you will treat her kindly, will you not, Henrietta?"
"I will treat her as your--_mistress_."
The king rose suddenly to his feet. By this word, which had so infelicitously escaped her, Madame had destroyed the whole merit of her sacrifice. The king felt freed from all obligations. Exasperated beyond measure, and bitterly offended, he replied:
"I thank you, Madame; I shall never forget the service you have rendered me." And, saluting her with an affectation of ceremony, he took his leave of her. As he pa.s.sed before a gla.s.s, he saw that his eyes were red, and angrily stamped his foot on the ground. But it was too late, for Malicorne and D"Artagnan, who were standing at the door, had seen his eyes.
"The king has been crying," thought Malicorne. D"Artagnan approached the king with a respectful air, and said in a low tone of voice:
"Sire, it would be better to return to your own apartments by the small staircase."
"Why?"
"Because the dust of the road has left its traces on your face," said D"Artagnan. "By heavens!" he thought, "when the king has given way like a child, let those look to it who may make the lady weep for whom the king sheds tears."