.

"And is to be found, I think, at the court of Charles II.; am I right?"

"Yes."

"Well, this evening a letter has been dispatched by Madame to Saint
James's, with directions for the courier to go straight to Hampton
Court, which I believe is one of the royal residences, situated about a
dozen miles from London."

"Yes, well?"

"Well; as Madame writes regularly to London once a fortnight, and as the
ordinary courier left for London not more than three days ago, I have
been thinking that some serious circumstance alone could have induced
her to write again so soon, for you know she is a very indolent
correspondent."

"Yes."

"This letter has been written, therefore, something tells me so, at
least, on your account."

"On my account?" repeated the unhappy girl, mechanically.

"And I, who saw the letter lying on Madame's desk before she sealed it,
fancied I could read--"

"What did you fancy you could read?"

"I might possibly have been mistaken, though--"

"Tell me,--what was it?"

"The name of Bragelonne."

La Valliere rose hurriedly from her chair, a prey to the most painful
agitation. "Montalais," she said, her voice broken by sobs, "all my
smiling dreams of youth and innocence have fled already. I have nothing
now to conceal, either from you or any one else. My life is exposed to
every one's inspection, and can be opened like a book, in which all
the world can read, from the king himself to the first passer-by. Aure,
dearest Aure, what can I do--what will become of me?"

Montalais approached close to her, and said, "Consult your own heart, of
course."

"Well; I do not love M. de Bragelonne; when I say I do not love him,
understand that I love him as the most affectionate sister could love
the best of brothers, but that is not what he requires, nor what I
promised him."

"In fact, you love the king," said Montalais, "and that is a
sufficiently good excuse."

"Yes, I do love the king," hoarsely murmured the young girl, "and I have
paid dearly enough for pronouncing those words. And now, Montalais, tell
me--what can you do either for me, or against me, in my position?"

"You must speak more clearly still."

"What am I to say, then?"

"And so you have nothing very particular to tell me?"

"No!" said Louise, in astonishment.

"Very good; and so all you have to ask me is my advice respecting M.
Raoul?"

"Nothing else."

"It is a very delicate subject," replied Montalais.

"No, it is n