The three now rose in silence with dry eyes. The tears had been scorched away by contact with their burning cheeks and eyelids. They had not the strength to address their thanks to the king, who himself cut short their solemn reverences by entrenching himself suddenly behind the fauteuil.

D’Artagnan remained alone with the king.

“Well,” said he, approaching the young prince, who interrogated him with his look. “Well, my master!

If you had not the device which belongs to your sun, I would recommend you one which M. Conrart might translate into eclectic Latin, ‘Calm with the lowly; stormy with the strong.’“

The king smiled, and passed into the next apartment, after having said to D’Artagnan,