rs than the king a single
minute."

Malicorne began to laugh aloud. "Come, dear Monsieur Malicorne," said
Saint-Aignan, "laugh less at me, and speak a little more freely, I beg."

"Well, then, monsieur le comte, if you wish the king to be a little more
satisfied the next time he comes--"

"'_Ventre saint-gris!_' as his grandfather used to say; of course I wish
it."

"Well, all you have to do is, when the king comes to-morrow, to be
obliged to go away on a most pressing matter of business, which cannot
possibly be postponed, and stay away for twenty minutes."

"What! leave the king alone for twenty minutes?" cried Saint-Aignan, in
alarm.

"Very well, do as you like; don't pay any attention to what I say," said
Malicorne, moving towards the door.

"Nay, nay, dear Monsieur Malicorne; on the contrary, go on--I begin to
understand you. But the painter--"

"Oh! the painter must be half an hour late."

"Half an hour--do you really think so?"

"Yes, I do, decidedly."

"Very well, then, I will do as you tell me."

"And my opinion is, that you will be doing perfectly right. Will you
allow me to call upon you for the latest news to-morrow?"

"Of course."

"I have the honor to be your most respectful servant, M. de
Saint-Aignan," said Malicorne, bowing profoundly and retiring from the
room backwards.

"There is no doubt that fellow has more invention than I have," said
Saint-Aignan, as if compelled by his conviction to admit it.

Chapter XXXVII. Hampton Court.

The revelation we have witnessed, that Montalais made to La Valliere,
in a preceding chapter, very naturally makes us return to the principal
hero of this tale, a poor wandering knight, roving about at the king's
caprice. If our readers will be good enough to follow us, we will, in
his company, cross that strait, more stormy than the Euripus, which
separates Calais from Dover; we will speed across that green and fertile
country, with its numerous little streams; through Maidstone, and many
other villages and towns, each prettier than the other; and, finally,
arrive at London. From thence, like bloodhounds following a track, after
having ascertained that Raoul had made his first stay at Whitehall,
his second at St. James's, and having learned that he had been warmly
received by Monk, and introduced to the best society of Charles II.'s
court, we will follow him to one of Charles II.'s summer residences near
the lively little village of Kingston, at H