e of
a bureau, or office, than aught else.

Two were seated at a table facing each other; behind each of these was
one of the others, who handed them papers rapidly drawn from
portfolios which they carried. Of the men who were seated, the one
with his hat on and wearing a costume of brown velvet--because already
the days were very cold--was Louis the Fourteenth; the other, whose
manner was extremely rough and coarse--indeed brutal, except when
addressing the king himself--was Louvois, the Minister of War,
ostensibly, but in reality the one minister who had his fingers in all
the business of the state. Those standing behind each of the others
were Pajot and Rouillier, who farmed the postal service from the
crown.

"_Finissons_," said Louis, in the low clear voice that expressed,
according to all reports, more authority than even the trumpet tones
of many of his great commanders--"_finissons_. The morning wears away.
What remains to be done?" Then in a rich murmur he said: "It has not
been too interesting to-day. My subjects are losing the art of
letter-writing."

On the table there lay five large portfolios bound in purple leather
and impressed with a crown and the letters L. R. Also upon each was
stamped a description of its contents. On one was inscribed, in French
of course, "Letters opened at the Post"; another "Conduct of Princes
and Lords"; a third bore upon it "Private Life of Bishops and
Prelates"; a fourth, "Private Life of Ecclesiastics"; and the fifth,
"Report of the Lieutenant of the Police."

Furnished thus with these five reports, which reached his august hands
and were inspected weekly by his august eyes, Louis considered that
the whole of his subjects' existences were, if not known to him, at
least very likely at some period or other to come under his
supervision. What he did not know, however, was that Louvois, who was
the originator of the odious system of opening letters sent through
the post, did not always show to him those epistles which came first
into his own hands. Therefore in this case, as in many others before
and after the days of Louis _le Dieudonne_, the valet was a greater
man than his master.

It was the case now--as it had often been!--the king had seen some
threescore letters marked with the senders' names or initials; and
there was one he had not seen.

He seemed a little weary this morning--nay, had he not been so great a
king, as well as a man who had almost every impulse un