him."

"You confess it, then?"

"I cannot help confessing it, for it is true."

"In that case, you are wrong; and if he were to kill you, he would be
doing perfectly right."

"Ah! that is your majesty's way of reasoning, then!"

"Do you think it a bad way?"

"It is a very expeditious way, at all events."

"'Good justice is prompt;' so my grandfather Henry IV. used to say."

"In that case, your majesty will, perhaps, be good enough to sign my
adversary's pardon, for he is now waiting for me at the Minimes, for the
purpose of putting me out of my misery."

"His name, and a parchment!"

"There is a parchment upon your majesty's table; and for his name--"

"Well, what is it?"

"The Vicomte de Bragelonne, sire."

"'The Vicomte de Bragelonne!'" exclaimed the king; changing from a fit
of laughter to the most profound stupor, and then, after a moment's
silence, while he wiped his forehead, which was bedewed with
perspiration, he again murmured, "Bragelonne!"

"No other, sire."

"Bragelonne, who was affianced to--"

"Yes, sire."

"But--he has been in London."

"Yes; but I can assure you, sire, he is there no longer."

"Is he in Paris, then?"

"He is at Minimes, sire, where he is waiting for me, as I have already
had the honor of telling you."

"Does he know all?"

"Yes; and many things besides. Perhaps your majesty would like to look
at the letter I have received from him;" and Saint-Aignan drew from his
pocket the note we are already acquainted with. "When your majesty has
read the letter, I will tell you how it reached me."

The king read it in a great agitation, and immediately said, "Well?"

"Well, sire; your majesty knows a certain carved lock, closing a certain
door of carved ebony, which separates a certain apartment from a certain
blue and white sanctuary?"

"Of course; Louise's boudoir."

"Yes, sire. Well, it was in the keyhole of that lock that I found yonder
note."

"Who placed it there?"

"Either M. de Bragelonne, or the devil himself; but, inasmuch as the
note smells of musk and not of sulphur, I conclude that it must be, not
the devil, but M. de Bragelonne."

Louis bent his head, and seemed absorbed in sad and bitter thought.
Perhaps something like remorse was at that moment passing through his
heart. "The secret is discovered," he said.

"Sire, I shall do my utmost that the secret dies in the breast of the
man who possesses it!" said Saint-Aignan, in a tone of bravado, as h