"Louise!" murmured Bragelonne,--"Louise! is it true, then? Oh, you have
never loved me, for never have you looked at me in that manner." And he
felt as if his heart were crushed within his bosom.

Madame Henrietta looked at him, almost envious of his extreme grief,
although she well knew there was nothing to envy in it, and that she
herself was as passionately loved by De Guiche as Louise by Bragelonne.
Raoul interpreted Madame Henrietta's look.

"Oh, forgive me, forgive me, Madame; in your presence I know I ought to
have greater self-control. But Heaven grant that you may never be struck
by similar misery to that which crushes me at this moment, for you are
but a woman, and would not be able to endure so terrible an affliction.
Forgive me, I again entreat you, Madame; I am but a man without rank or
position, while you belong to a race whose happiness knows no bounds,
whose power acknowledges no limit."

"Monsieur de Bragelonne," replied Henrietta, "a mind such as your merits
all the consideration and respect which a queen's heart even can bestow.
Regard me as your friend, monsieur; and as such, indeed, I would not
allow your whole life to be poisoned by perfidy, and covered with
ridicule. It was I, indeed, who, with more courage than any of your
pretended friends,--I except M. de Guiche,--was the cause of your return
from London; it is I, also, who now give you the melancholy proofs,
necessary, however, for your cure if you are a lover with courage in his
heart, and not a weeping Amadis. Do not thank me; pity me, even, and do
not serve the king less faithfully than you have done."

Raoul smiled bitterly. "Ah! true, true; I was forgetting that; the king
is my master."

"Your liberty, nay, your very life, is in danger."

A steady, penetrating look informed Madame Henrietta that she was
mistaken, and that her last argument was not a likely one to affect the
young man. "Take care, Monsieur de Bragelonne," she said, "for if you do
not weigh well all your actions, you might throw into an extravagance
of wrath a prince whose passions, once aroused, exceed the bounds of
reason, and you would thereby involve your friends and family in the
deepest distress; you must bend, you must submit, and you must cure
yourself."

"I thank you, Madame; I appreciate the advice your royal highness is
good enough to give me, and I will endeavor to follow it; but one final
word, I beg."

"Name it."

"Should I be indiscreet in asking