for
himself, let Charles II. keep quiet. Your majesty will give him a little
income here; give him one of your chateaux. Yes, yes--wait awhile. But
I forgot the treaty--that famous treaty of which we were just now
speaking. Your majesty has not even the right to give him a chateau."

"How is that?"

"Yes, yes, your majesty is bound not to grant hospitality to King
Charles, and to compel him to leave France even. It was on this account
we forced him to quit you, and yet here he is again. Sire, I hope you
will give your brother to understand that he cannot remain with us; that
it is impossible he should be allowed to compromise us, or I myself----"

"Enough, my lord," said Louis XIV, rising. "In refusing me a million,
perhaps you may be right; your millions are your own. In refusing me two
hundred gentlemen, you are still further in the right; for you are prime
minister, and you have, in the eyes of France, the responsibility of
peace and war. But that you should pretend to prevent me, who am king,
from extending my hospitality to the grandson of Henry IV., to my
cousin-german, to the companion of my childhood--there your power stops,
and there begins my will."

"Sire," said Mazarin, delighted at being let off so cheaply, and who
had, besides, only fought so earnestly to arrive at that,--"sire, I
shall always bend before the will of my king. Let my king, then, keep
near him, or in one of his chateaux, the king of England; let Mazarin
know it, but let not the minister know it."

"Good-night, my lord," said Louis XIV., "I go away in despair."

"But convinced, and that is all I desire, sire," replied Mazarin.

The king made no answer, and retired quite pensive, convinced, not of
all Mazarin had told him, but of one thing which he took care not to
mention to him; and that was, that it was necessary for him to study
seriously both his own affairs and those of Europe, for he found them
very difficult and very obscure. Louis found the king of England seated
in the same place where he had left him. On perceiving him, the English
prince arose; but at the first glance he saw discouragement written
in dark letters upon his cousin's brow. Then, speaking first, as if to
facilitate the painful avowal that Louis had to make to him,--

"Whatever it may be," said he, "I shall never forget all the kindness,
all the friendship you have exhibited towards me."

"Alas!" replied Louis, in a melancholy tone, "only barren good-will, my