ho with so much
pleasure saw himself repeated in one, was in despair about two; fearing
that the second might dispute the first's claim to seniority, which had
been recognized only two hours before; and so this second son, relying
on party interests and caprices, might one day sow discord and engender
civil war throughout the kingdom; by these means destroying the very
dynasty he should have strengthened."

"Oh, I understand!--I understand!" murmured the young man.

"Well," continued Aramis; "this is what they relate, what they declare;
this is why one of the queen's two sons, shamefully parted from his
brother, shamefully sequestered, is buried in profound obscurity; this
is why that second son has disappeared, and so completely, that not a
soul in France, save his mother, is aware of his existence."

"Yes! his mother, who has cast him off," cried the prisoner in a tone of
despair.

"Except, also," Aramis went on, "the lady in the black dress; and,
finally, excepting--"

"Excepting yourself--is it not? You who come and relate all this; you,
who rouse in my soul curiosity, hatred, ambition, and, perhaps, even the
thirst of vengeance; except you, monsieur, who, if you are the man to
whom I expect, whom the note I have received applies to, whom, in short,
Heaven ought to send me, must possess about you--"

"What?" asked Aramis.

"A portrait of the king, Louis XIV., who at this moment reigns upon the
throne of France."

"Here is the portrait," replied the bishop, handing the prisoner a
miniature in enamel, on which Louis was depicted life-like, with a
handsome, lofty mien. The prisoner eagerly seized the portrait, and
gazed at it with devouring eyes.

"And now, monseigneur," said Aramis, "here is a mirror." Aramis left the
prisoner time to recover his ideas.

"So high!--so high!" murmured the young man, eagerly comparing the
likeness of Louis with his own countenance reflected in the glass.

"What do you think of it?" at length said Aramis.

"I think that I am lost," replied the captive; "the king will never set
me free."

"And I--I demand to know," added the bishop, fixing his piercing eyes
significantly upon the prisoner, "I demand to know which of these two is
king; the one this miniature portrays, or whom the glass reflects?"

"The king, monsieur," sadly replied the young man, "is he who is on
the throne, who is not in prison; and who, on the other hand, can cause
others to be entombed there. Royalty