"How so?"

"Every way."

"What do you mean?"

"In the first place, through the Vicomte de Bragelonne."

"Explain yourself."

"You do not forget, I hope, that Monsieur de Bragelonne has written many
letters to Mademoiselle de la Valliere."

"I forget nothing."

"Well, then, it was I who received, and I who intercepted those
letters."

"And, consequently, it is you who have them still?"

"Yes."

"Where,--here?"

"Oh, no; I have them safe at Blois, in the little room you know well
enough."

"That dear little room,--that darling little room, the ante-chamber of
the palace I intend you to live in one of these days. But, I beg your
pardon, you said that all those letters are in that little room?"

"Yes."

"Did you not put them in a box?"

"Of course; in the same box where I put all the letters I received from
you, and where I put mine also when your business or your amusements
prevented you from coming to our rendezvous."

"Ah, very good," said Malicorne.

"Why are you satisfied?"

"Because I see there is a possibility of not having to run to Blois
after the letters, for I have them here."

"You have brought the box away?"

"It was very dear to me, because it belonged to you."

"Be sure and take care of it, for it contains original documents that
will be of priceless value by and by."

"I am perfectly well aware of that indeed, and that is the very reason
why I laugh as I do, and with all my heart, too."

"And now, one last word."

"Why _last?_"

"Do we need any one to assist us?"

"No one."

"Valets or maid-servants?"

"Bad policy. You will give the letters,--you will receive them. Oh!
we must have no pride in this affair, otherwise M. Malicorne and
Mademoiselle Aure, not transacting their own affairs themselves, will
have to make up their minds to see them done by others."

"You are quite right; but what is going on yonder in M. de Guiche's
room?"

"Nothing; he is only opening his window."

"Let us be gone." And they both immediately disappeared, all the terms
of the contract being agreed on.

The window just opened was, in fact, that of the Comte de Guiche. It
was not alone with the hope of catching a glimpse of Madame through her
curtains that he seated himself by the open window for his preoccupation
of mind had at that time a different origin. He had just received, as
we have already stated, the courier who had been dispatched to him by
Bragelonne, the latter having writt