nd then, in a voice, the music
of which I had hitherto deemed exaggerated, the King spoke; and in that
voice there was something so kind and encouraging that I felt reassured
at once. Perhaps its tone was not the less conciliating from the evident
effect which the royal presence had produced upon me.

"You have given us, Count Devereux," said the King, "a pleasure which
we are glad, in person, to acknowledge to you. And it has seemed to us
fitting that the country in which your brave father acquired his fame
should also be the asylum of his son."

"Sire," answered I, "Sire, it shall not be my fault if that country is
not henceforth my own; and in inheriting my father's name, I inherit
also his gratitude and his ambition."

"It is well said, Sir," said the King; and I once more raised my eyes,
and perceived that his were bent upon me. "It is well said," he repeated
after a short pause; "and in granting to you this audience, we were
not unwilling to hope that you were desirous to attach yourself to our
court. The times do not require" (here I thought the old King's voice
was not so firm as before) "the manifestation of your zeal in the same
career as that in which your father gained laurels to France and to
himself. But we will not neglect to find employment for your abilities,
if not for your sword."

"That sword which was given to me, Sire," said I, "by your Majesty,
shall be ever drawn (against all nations but one) at your command; and,
in being your Majesty's petitioner for future favours, I only seek some
channel through which to evince my gratitude for the past."

"We do not doubt," said Louis, "that whatever be the number of the
ungrateful we may make by testifying our good pleasure on your behalf,
_you_ will not be among the number." The King here made a slight but
courteous inclination and turned round. The observant Bishop of Frejus,
who had retired to a little distance and who knew that the King never
liked talking more than he could help it, gave me a signal. I obeyed,
and backed, with all due deference, out of the royal presence.

So closed my interview with Louis XIV. Although his Majesty did not
indulge in prolixity, I spoke of him for a long time afterwards as the
most eloquent of men. Believe me, there is no orator like a king; one
word from a royal mouth stirs the heart more than Demosthenes could have
done. There was a deep moral in that custom of the ancients, by which
the Goddess of Persuasion w