I exclaimed, and I grew cold with
apprehension, knowing as I did the licence of that woman's tongue.

"Seen her?" he echoed whimsically. "I have seen her, heard her,
well-nigh felt her. The air of this room is still disturbed as a
consequence of her presence. She was here an hour ago."

"And it seemed," lisped La Fosse, turning from his hunting-book, "as if
the three daughters of Acheron had quitted the domain of Pluto to take
embodiment in a single woman."

"I would not have seen her," the King resumed as though La Fosse had not
spoken, "but she would not be denied. I heard her voice blaspheming in
the antechamber when I refused to receive her; there was a commotion at
my door; it was dashed open, and the Swiss who held it was hurled
into my room here as though he had been a mannikin. Dieu! Since I have
reigned in France I have not been the centre of so much commotion. She
is a strong woman, Marcel the saints defend you hereafter, when she
shall come to be your mother-in-law. In all France, I'll swear, her
tongue is the only stouter thing than her arm. But she's a fool."

"What did she say, Sire?" I asked in my anxiety.

"Say? She swore--Ciel! how she did swear! Not a saint in the calendar
would she let rest in peace; she dragged them all by turns from their
chapter-rolls to bear witness to the truth of what she said."

"That was--"

"That her husband was the foulest traitor out of hell. But that he was a
fool with no wit of his own to make him accountable for what he did, and
that out of folly he had gone astray. Upon those grounds she besought
me to forgive him and let him go. When I told her that he must stand his
trial, and that I could offer her but little hope of his acquittal,
she told me things about myself, which in my conceit, and thanks to you
flatterers who have surrounded me, I had never dreamed.

"She told me I was ugly, sour-faced, and malformed; that I was
priest-ridden and a fool; unlike my brother, who, she assured me, is a
mirror of chivalry and manly perfections. She promised me that Heaven
should never receive my soul, though I told my beads from now till
Doomsday, and she prophesied for me a welcome among the damned when my
time comes. What more she might have foretold I cannot say. She wearied
me at last, for all her novelty, and I dismissed her--that is to say,"
he amended, "I ordered four musketeers to carry her out. God pity you,
Marcel, when you become her daughter's husband!"

But