ernon, who remained in his
room to the last, expecting thanks at least, went away in a very bad
humor.

At two o'clock every one slept in the Louvre. The next day, Henri took
four bouillons in bed instead of two, and then sent for MM. de Villeguie
and D'O to come to his room, to speak about a new financial edict. The
queen received the order to dine alone, but it was added that in the
evening the king would receive. All day he played with Love, saying,
every time that the animal showed his white teeth, "Ah, rebel! you want
to bite me also; you attack your king also; but you are conquered, M.
Love--conquered, wretched leaguer--conquered." His secretaries of state
were somewhat astonished at all this, particularly as he said nothing
else, and signed everything without looking at it. At three o'clock in
the afternoon he asked for D'Epernon. They replied that he was reviewing
the light horse; then he inquired for De Loignac, but he also was
absent. He asked for lunch, and, while he ate, had an edifying discourse
read to him, which he interrupted by saying to the reader, "Was it not
Plutarch who wrote the life of Sylla?"

"Yes, sire," said the reader, much astonished at being interrupted in
his pious reading by this profane question.

"Do you remember that passage where the historian recounts how the
dictator avoided death?"

The reader hesitated.

"Not precisely, sire; it is a long time since I read Plutarch."

At this moment, the Cardinal de Joyeuse was announced.

"Ah! here is a learned man, he will tell me at once!" cried the king.

"Sire," said the cardinal, "am I lucky enough to arrive apropos--it is a
rare thing in this world."

"Ma foi! yes; you heard my question?"

"Your majesty asked, I think, in what manner, and when, Sylla narrowly
escaped death?"

"Just so--can you answer me, cardinal?"

"Nothing more easy, sire."

"So much the better."

"Sylla, who had killed so many men, never risked his life but in
combats; did your majesty mean in one of those?"

"Yes; in one in which I think I recollect he was very near death. Open a
Plutarch, cardinal; there should be one there translated by Amyot, and
read me the passage where he escaped the javelins of his enemies, thanks
to the swiftness of his white horse."

"Sire, there is no need of opening Plutarch; the event took place in the
combat with Telescrius the Samnite, and Lamponius the Lucanian."

"You are so learned, my dear cardinal."

"Your maje