early hour of the morning De Gency
in his hunting-dress took up his position in one of the ante-chambers
through which the king must pass: not alone, however; at his side there
stood a lovely boy, also dressed in the costume of the chase. He wore
a velvet doublet of green, slashed with gold, and ornamented by a
broad belt, from which hung his _couteau de chasse_; even to the falcon
feather in his cap, nothing was forgotten.

"He had not waited long when the folding-doors were thrown wide, and
a moment after Louis appeared, accompanied by a single attendant,
the Marquis de Verneuil, unhappily one of the very few enemies Arnoud
possessed in the world.

"'Ah, De Gency! you here?' said the king, gayly. 'They told me "brelan"
had been unfavorable lately, and that we should not see you.'

"'It is true, Sire,' said he, with a sad effort at a smile; 'it is only
on your Majesty fortune always smiles.'

"'_Pardieu!_ you must not say so; I lost a rouleau last night. But whom
have we here?'

"'My son; so please you, Sire, my only son, who desires, at an earlier
age than even his father did, to serve your Majesty.'

[Illustration: 230]

"'How like his mother!' said the king, pushing back the fair ringlets
from the boy's forehead, and gazing almost fondly on his handsome
features,--'how like her! She was a Courcelles?'

"'She was, Sire,' said Arnoud, as the tears fell on his cheek and
coursed slowly along his face.

"'And you want something for him?' said the king, resuming his wonted
tone, while he busied himself with his sword-knot; 'is it not so?'

"'If I might dare to ask--'

"'Assuredly you may. The thing is, what can we do? Eh, Verneuil, what
say you? He is but an infant.'

"'True, Sire,' replied the marquis, with a look of respect, in which
the most subtle could not discover a trait of his sarcastic nature; 'but
there is a place vacant.'

"'Ah, indeed,' said the king, quickly. 'What is it? He shall have it.'

"'Monsieur Jacotot, your Majesty's head cook, stands in need of a
turnspit,' said he, in a low whisper, only audible to the king.

"'A turnspit!' said the king. And scarcely was the word uttered when,
as if the irony was his own, he burst into a most immoderate fit of
laughter,--an emotion that seemed to increase as he endeavored to
repress it; when at the instant the _cor de chasse_, then heard
without, gave a new turn to his thoughts, and he hurried forward with
De Yerneuil, leaving De Gency and his s