nne comes of a valiant race, sire."

"Then he is the son of that nobleman who came to me, or rather to M.
Mazarin, on the part of King Charles II., to offer me his alliance?"

"Exactly, sire."

"And the Comte de la Fere is a great soldier, say you?"

"Sire, he is a man who has drawn his sword more times for the king, your
father, than there are, at present, months in the happy life of your
majesty."

It was Louis XIV. who now bit his lip.

"That is well, M. d'Artagnan, very well! And M. le Comte de la Fere is
your friend, say you?"

"For about forty years; yes, sire. Your majesty may see that I do not
speak to you of yesterday."

"Should you be glad to see this young man, M. d'Artagnan?"

"Delighted, sire."

The king touched his bell, and an usher appeared. "Call M. de
Bragelonne," said the king.

"Ah! ah! he is here?" said D'Artagnan.

"He is on guard to-day, at the Louvre, with the company of the gentlemen
of monsieur le prince."

The king had scarcely ceased speaking, when Raoul presented himself,
and, on seeing D'Artagnan, smiled on him with that charming smile which
is only found upon the lips of youth.

"Come, come," said D'Artagnan, familiarly, to Raoul, "the king will
allow you to embrace me; only tell his majesty you thank him."

Raoul bowed so gracefully, that Louis, to whom all superior qualities
were pleasing when they did not overshadow his own, admired his beauty,
strength, and modesty.

"Monsieur," said the king, addressing Raoul, "I have asked monsieur
le prince to be kind enough to give you up to me; I have received his
reply, and you belong to me from this morning. Monsieur le prince was a
good master, but I hope you will not lose by the exchange."

"Yes, yes, Raoul, be satisfied; the king has some good in him," said
D'Artagnan, who had fathomed the character of Louis, and who played
with his self-love, within certain limits; always observing, be it
understood, the proprieties and flattering, even when he appeared to be
bantering.

"Sire," said Bragelonne, with voice soft and musical, and with the
natural and easy elocution he inherited from his father; "Sire, it is
not from to-day that I belong to your majesty."

"Oh! no, I know," said the king, "you mean your enterprise of the Greve.
That day, you were truly mine, monsieur."

"Sire, it is not of that day I would speak; it would not become me
to refer to so paltry a service in the presence of such a man as M.
d'Artagnan. I w