said the king, in an ironical tone.
"But, sire, it is only half-past six, and her majesty never rings before seven."
"And you are sure that her majesty is asleep in bed?"
"I cannot affirm that she is asleep, sire, but I can that she is in bed."
The king could contain himself no longer, but went straight to the door, which he opened with some noise. The room was in complete darkness, the shutters closed, and the curtains drawn. A night lamp burned on a bracket, but it only gave a dim and feeble light.
The king walked rapidly towards the bed.
"Oh, Madame de Misery," said the queen, "how noisy you are – you have disturbed me!"
The king remained stupefied. "It is not Madame de Misery," he murmured.
"What, is it you, sire?" said Marie Antoinette, raising herself up.
"Good morning, madame," said the king, in a surly tone.
"What good wind blows you here, sire? Madame de Misery, come and open the shutters."
She came in instantly, as usual, opened all the doors and windows, to let in light and fresh air.
"You sleep well, madame," said the king, seating himself, and casting scrutinizing glances round the room.
"Yes, sire, I read late, and had your majesty not disturbed me, might have slept for some time longer."
"How was it that you did not receive visitors yesterday?" asked the king.
"Whom do you mean? – M. de Provence," said the queen, with great presence of mind.
"Yes, exactly; he wished to pay his respects to you, and was refused."
"Well!"
"They said you were out."
"Did they say that?" asked the queen carelessly. "Madame de Misery – "
The lady appeared, bringing in with her a number of letters on a gold salver. "Did your majesty call?" she asked.
"Yes. Did they tell M. de Provence yesterday that I was out? Will you tell the king, for really I forget."
"Sire," said Madame de Misery, while the queen took her letters and began to read, "I told Monseigneur le Comte de Provence that her majesty did not receive."
"And by whose orders?"
"By the queen's, sire."
Meanwhile, the queen had opened one of the letters, and read these lines: "You returned from Paris yesterday, and entered the château at eight o'clock in the evening; Laurent saw you."
Madame de Misery left the room.
"Pardon, sire," said the queen, "but will you answer me one question?"
"What, madame?"
"Am I, or am I not, at liberty to see M. de Provence only when it pleases me?"
"Oh, perfectly at liberty, madame, but – "
"Well, his conversation wearies me; besides, he does not love me, and I like him no better. I expected his visit, and went to bed at eight o'clock to avoid it. But you look disturbed, sire."
"I believed you to be in Paris yesterday."
"At what time?"
"At the time at which you pretend to have gone to bed."
"Doubtless, I went to Paris; but what of that?"
"All, madame, depends on what time you returned."
"Oh, you wish to know at what time exactly I returned?"
"Yes."
"It is easy. Madame de Misery – "
The Lady reappeared.
"What time was it when I returned from Paris yesterday?"
"About eight o'clock, your majesty."
"I do not believe it," said the king, "you make a mistake, Madame de Misery."
The lady walked to the door, and called, "Madame Dural!"
"Yes, madame," replied a voice.
"At what time did her majesty return from Paris yesterday?"
"About eight o'clock, madame," replied the other.
"The king thinks we are mistaken."
Madame Dural put her head out of the window, and cried, "Laurent!"
"Who is Laurent?" asked the king.
"The porter at the gate where her majesty entered," said Madame de Misery.
"Laurent," said Madame Dural, "what time was it when her majesty came home last evening?"
"About eight o'clock," answered Laurent.
Madame de Misery then left the room, and the king and queen remained alone.
He felt ashamed of his suspicions.
The queen, however, only said coldly, "Well, sire, is there anything else you wish to know?"
"Oh, nothing!" cried he, taking her hands in his; "forgive me; I do not know what came into my head – my joy is as great as my repentance. You will not be angry, will you? I am in despair at having annoyed you."
The queen withdrew her hand, and said; "Sire, a queen of France must not tell a falsehood."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I did not return at eight o'clock last evening."
The king drew back in surprise.
"I mean," continued the queen in the same cold manner, "that I only returned at six o'clock this morning."
"Madame!"
"And that, but for the kindness of M. le Comte d'Artois, who gave me an asylum, and lodged me out of pity in one of his houses, I should have been left all night at the door of the château like a beggar."
"Ah! you had not then returned?" said the king, gloomily; "then I was right."
"Sire, you have not behaved towards me as a gentleman should."
"In what, madame?"
"In this – that if you wish to know whether I return late or early, you have no need to close the gates, with orders not to open them, but simply to come to me and ask, 'Madame, at what time did you return?' You have no more reason to doubt, sire. Your spies have been deceived, your precautions nullified, and your suspicions dissipated. I saw you ashamed of the part you had played, and I might have continued to triumph in my victory, but I think your proceedings shameful for a king, and unworthy of a gentleman; and I would not refuse myself the satisfaction of telling you so.
"It is
