asked.

"If you please, sir; the cup that was poured out for me."

"With all my heart," I cried, and, remembering my manners, I added, "and
with most dutiful thanks to Your Majesty for this signal honour."

A stir, hardly to be seen, yet certain, ran round the table. Madame
stretched out a hand towards the cup as though with a sudden impulse to
seize it; the King caught her hand and held it prisoner. M. de
Perrencourt suddenly dragged his chair back and, passing in front of it,
stood close over the table. Colbert looked up at him, but his eyes were
fixed on me, and the Envoy went unnoticed.

"Then come and take it," said the King.

I advanced after a low bow. Darrell, to my fresh wonder, kept pace with
me, and when I reached the table was still at my side. Before I could
move his sword might be through me or the ball from his pistol in my
brains. The strange scene began to intoxicate me, its stirring
suggestion mounting to my head like fumes of wine. I seized the cup and
held it high in my hand. I looked down in the King's face, and thence to
Madame's; to her I bowed low and cried:

"By His Majesty's permission I will drain this cup to the honour of the
fairest and most illustrious Princess, Madame the Duchess of Orleans."

The Duchess half-rose from her seat, crying in a loud whisper, "Not to
me, no, no! I can't have him drink it to me."

The King still held her hand.

"Drink it to me, Mr Dale," said he.

I bowed to him and put the cup to my lips. I was in the act to drink,
when M. de Perrencourt spoke.

"A moment, sir," he said calmly. "Have I the King's permission to tell
Mr Dale a secret concerning this wine?"

The Duke of York looked up with a frown, the King turned to M. de
Perrencourt as if in doubt, the Frenchman met his glance and nodded.

"M. de Perrencourt is our guest," said the King. "He must do as he
will."

M. de Perrencourt, having thus obtained permission (when was his will
denied him?), leant one hand on the table and, bending across towards
me, said in slow, calm, yet impressive tones:

"The King, sir, was wearied with business and parched with talking; of
his goodness he detected in me the same condition. So he bade my good
friend and his good subject Mr Darrell furnish him with a bottle of
wine, and Mr Darrell brought a bottle, saying that the King's cellar
was shut and the cellarman in bed, but praying the King to honour him by
drinking his wine, which was good French wine, such