as
it met the baleful eye of the king.

"Well, Louvois, what now?" he asked impatiently. "Has some new state
matter arisen?"

"There is but one new state matter which has arisen, sire, but it is of
such importance as to banish all others from our mind."

"What then?"

"Your marriage, sire."

"You disapprove of it?"

"Oh, sire, can I help it?"

"Out of my room, sir! Am I to be tormented to death by your
importunities? What! You dare to linger when I order you to go!"
The king advanced angrily upon the minister, but Louvois suddenly
flashed out his rapier. Louis sprang back with alarm and amazement upon
his face, but it was the hilt and not the point which was presented to
him.

"Pass it through my heart, sire!" the minister cried, falling upon his
knees, his whole great frame in a quiver with emotion. "I will not live
to see your glory fade!"

"Great heaven!" shrieked Louis, throwing the sword down upon the ground,
and raising his hands to his temples, "I believe that this is a
conspiracy to drive me mad. Was ever a man so tormented in his life?
This will be a private marriage, man, and it will not affect the state
in the least degree. Do you hear me? Have you understood me? What more
do you want?"

Louvois gathered himself up, and shot his rapier back into its sheath.

"Your Majesty is determined?" he asked.

"Absolutely."

"Then I say no more. I have done my duty." He bowed his head as one in
deep dejection when he departed, but in truth his heart was lightened
within him, for he had the king's assurance that the woman whom he hated
would, even though his wife, not sit on the throne of the Queens of
France.

These repeated attacks, if they had not shaken the king's resolution,
had at least irritated and exasperated him to the utmost. Such a blast
of opposition was a new thing to a man whose will had been the one law
of the land. It left him ruffled and disturbed, and without regretting
his resolution, he still, with unreasoning petulance, felt inclined to
visit the inconvenience to which he had been put upon those whose advice
he had followed. He wore accordingly no very cordial face when the
usher in attendance admitted the venerable figure of Father la Chaise,
his confessor.

"I wish you all happiness, sire," said the Jesuit, "and I congratulate
you from my heart that you have taken the great step which must lead to
content both in this world and the next."

"I have had neither h