k, with her two friends, when the sound of a wolf or a robber had
terrified them, and made them run away."

"But," inquired the king, anxiously, "what are the names of these two
friends?"

"Sire," said Saint-Aignan, "will your majesty send me forthwith to the
Bastile?"

"What for?"

"Because I am an egotist and a fool. My surprise was so great at such a
conquest, and at so fortunate a discovery, that I went no further in my
inquiries. Besides, I did not think that your majesty would attach any
very great importance to what you heard, knowing how much your attention
was taken up by Mademoiselle de la Valliere; and then, Mademoiselle de
Tonnay-Charente left me precipitately, to return to Mademoiselle de la
Valliere."

"Let us hope, then, that I shall be as fortunate as yourself. Come,
Saint-Aignan."

"Your majesty is ambitions, I perceive, and does not wish to allow any
conquest to escape you. Well, I assure you that I will conscientiously
set about my inquiries; and, moreover, from one or the other of those
Three Graces we shall learn the names of the rest, and by the names
their secrets."

"I, too," said the king, "only require to hear her voice to know it
again. Come, let us say no more about it, but show me where poor La
Valliere is."

"Well," thought Saint-Aignan, "the king's regard is beginning to display
itself, and for that girl too. It is extraordinary; I should never have
believed it." And with this thought passing through his mind, he showed
the king the room to which La Valliere had been carried; the king
entered, followed by Saint-Aignan. In a low chamber, near a large
window looking out upon the gardens, La Valliere, reclining in a large
armchair, was inhaling deep draughts of the perfumed evening breeze.
From the loosened body of her dress, the lace fell in tumbled folds,
mingling with the tresses of her beautiful fair hair, which lay
scattered upon her shoulders. Her languishing eyes were filled with
tears; she seemed as lifeless as those beautiful visions of our dreams,
that pass before the mental eye of the sleeper, half-opening their wings
without moving them, unclosing their lips without a sound escaping
them. The pearl-like pallor of La Valliere possessed a charm it would
be impossible to describe. Mental and bodily suffering had produced
upon her features a soft and noble expression of grief; from the perfect
passiveness of her arms and bust, she more resembled one whose soul had
passed a