y rate he has certainly passed through Madame de
Maine's room we shall have some news at last."

At these words Pompadour made a sign to Malezieux, but the worthy
chancellor was so gallant that he must first acquit himself of his duty
toward the ladies. After he had bowed to them, he came toward the group,
among which were Pompadour, D'Harmental, and Valef.

"Come, my dear Malezieux," said Pompadour, "we are waiting for you most
impatiently. We have just arrived from the four quarters of the globe,
it appears. Valef from the south, D'Harmental from the west, Laval from
the east, I from the north, you from I do not know where; so that we
confess that we are very curious to know what we are going to do here at
Sceaux."

"You have come to assist at a great solemnity, at the reception of a new
knight of the order of the honey-bee."

"Peste!" said D'Harmental, a little piqued that they should not have
left him time to go to the Rue du Temps-Perdu before coming to Sceaux;
"I understand now why Madame de Maine told us to be so exact to the
rendezvous; as to myself, I am very grateful to her highness."

"First of all you must know, young man," interrupted Malezieux, "that
there is no Madame de Maine nor highness in the question. There is only
the beautiful fairy Ludovic, the queen of the bees, whom every one must
obey blindly. Our queen is all-wise and all-powerful, and when you know
who is the knight we are to receive you will not regret your diligence."

"And who is it?" asked Valef, who, arriving from the greatest distance,
was naturally the most anxious to know why he had been brought home.

"His excellency the Prince de Cellamare."

"Ah!" said Pompadour, "I begin to understand."----"And I," said Valef.

"And I," said D'Harmental.

"Very well," said Malezieux, smiling; "and before the end of the evening
you will understand still better; meanwhile, do not try to see further.
It is not the first time you have entered with your eyes bandaged,
Monsieur d'Harmental?"

At these words, Malezieux advanced toward a little man, with a flat
face, flowing hair, and a discontented expression. D'Harmental inquired
who it was, and Pompadour replied that it was the poet Lagrange-Chancel.
The young men looked at the new-comer with a curiosity mixed with
disgust; then, turning away, and leaving Pompadour to advance toward the
Cardinal de Polignac, who entered at this moment, they went into the
embrasure of a window to talk over t