as not as yet
familiar to him.
"Sire," replied Malicorne, "at all events I have a horse here which is
at your majesty's service."
And Malicorne pointed at Monsieur's bay horse, which Madame had
observed. It was a beautiful creature royally caparisoned.
"This is not one of my horses, monsieur," said the king.
"Sire, it is a horse out of his royal highness's stables; but he does
not ride when the weather is as hot as it is now."
Louis did not reply, but approached the horse, which stood pawing the
ground with its foot. Malicorne hastened to hold the stirrup for him,
but the king was already in the saddle. Restored to good-humor by this
lucky accident, the king hastened towards the queen's carriage, where he
was anxiously expected; and notwithstanding Maria Theresa's thoughtful
and preoccupied air, he said: "I have been fortunate enough to find
this horse, and I intend to avail myself of it. I felt stifled in the
carriage. Adieu, ladies."
Then bending gracefully over the arched neck of his beautiful steed,
he disappeared in a second. Anne of Austria leaned forward, in order
to look after him as he rode away; he did not get very far, for when he
reached the sixth carriage, he reined in his horse suddenly and took off
his hat. He saluted La Valliere, who uttered a cry of surprise as
she saw him, blushing at the same time with pleasure. Montalais, who
occupied the other seat in the carriage, made the king a most respectful
bow. And then, with all the tact of a woman, she pretended to be
exceedingly interested in the landscape, and withdrew herself into the
left-hand corner. The conversation between the king and La Valliere
began, as all lovers' conversations generally do, namely, by eloquent
looks and by a few words utterly devoid of common sense. The king
explained how warm he had felt in his carriage, so much so indeed that
he could almost regard the horse he then rode as a blessing thrown in
his way. "And," he added, "my benefactor is an exceedingly intelligent
man, for he seemed to guess my thoughts intuitively. I have now only
one wish, that of learning the name of the gentleman who so cleverly
assisted his king out of his dilemma, and extricated him from his cruel
position."
Montalais, during this colloquy, the first words of which had awakened
her attention, had slightly altered her position, and contrived so as
to meet the king's look as he finished his remark. It followed very
naturally that the king
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