style="font-size:15px;"> "Well!" repeated Monsieur; "what is going on then?"
M. de Saint-Remy, who had just introduced his head through the doorway, took advantage of the moment.
"Why am I to be disturbed?" said Gaston, helping himself to a thick slice of one of the largest salmon that had ever ascended the Loire to be captured between Painboeuf and Saint-Nazaire.
"There is a messenger from Paris. Oh! but after monseigneur has breakfasted will do; there is plenty of time."
"From Paris!" cried the prince, letting his fork fall. "A messenger from Paris, do you say? And on whose part does this messenger come?"
"On the part of M. le Prince," said the maitre d'hotel promptly.
Every one knows that the Prince de Conde was so called.
"A messenger from M. le Prince!" said Gaston, with an inquietude that escaped none of the assistants, and consequently redoubled the general curiosity.
Monsieur, perhaps, fancied himself brought back again to the happy times when the opening of a door gave him an emotion, in which every letter might contain a state secret, – in which every message was connected with a dark and complicated intrigue. Perhaps, likewise, that great name of M. le Prince expanded itself, beneath the roofs of Blois, to the proportions of a phantom.
Monsieur pushed away his plate.
"Shall I tell the envoy to wait?" asked M. de Saint-Remy.
A glance from Madame emboldened Gaston, who replied: "No, no! let him come in at once, on the contrary. A propos, who is he?"
"A gentleman of this country, M. le Vicomte de Bragelonne."
"Ah, very well! Introduce him, Saint-Remy – introduce him."
And when he had let fall these words, with his accustomed gravity, Monsieur turned his eyes, in a certain manner, upon the people of his suite, so that all, pages, officers, and equerries, quitted the service, knives and goblets, and made towards the second chamber a retreat as rapid as it was disorderly.
This little army had dispersed in two files when Raoul de Bragelonne, preceded by M. de Saint-Remy, entered the refectory.
The short interval of solitude which this retreat had left him, permitted Monsieur the time to assume a diplomatic countenance. He did not turn round, but waited till the maitre d'hotel should bring the messenger face to face with him.
Raoul stopped even with the lower end of the table, so as to be exactly between Monsieur and Madame. From this place he made a profound bow to Monsieur and a very humble one to Madame; then, drawing himself up into military pose, he waited for Monsieur to address him.
On his part the Prince waited till the doors were hermetically closed; he would not turn round to ascertain the fact, as that would have been derogatory to his dignity, but he listened with all his ears for the noise of the lock, which would promise him at least an appearance of secrecy.
The doors being closed, Monsieur raised his eyes towards the vicomte, and said, "It appears that you come from Paris, monsieur?"
"This minute, monseigneur."
"How is the king?"
"His majesty is in perfect health, monseigneur."
"And my sister-in-law?"
"Her majesty the queen-mother still suffers from the complaint in her chest, but for the last month she has been rather better."
"Somebody told me you came on the part of M. le Prince. They must have been mistaken, surely?"
"No, monseigneur; M. le Prince has charged me to convey this letter to your royal highness, and I am to wait for an answer to it."
Raoul had been a little annoyed by this cold and cautious reception, and his voice insensibly sank to a low key.
The prince forgot that he was the cause of this apparent mystery, and his fears returned.
He received the letter from the Prince de Conde with a haggard look, unsealed it as he would have unsealed a suspicious packet, and in order to read it so that no one should remark the effects of it upon his countenance, he turned round.
Madame followed, with an anxiety almost equal to that of the prince, every maneuver of her august husband.
Raoul, impassible, and a little disengaged by the attention of his hosts, looked from his place through the open window at the gardens and the statues which peopled them.
"Well!" cried Monsieur, all at once, with a cheerful smile; "here is an agreeable surprise, and a charming letter from M. le Prince. Look, Madame!"
The table was too large to allow the arm of the prince to reach the hand of Madame; Raoul sprang forward to be their intermediary, and did it with so good a grace as to procure a flattering acknowledgment from the princess.
"You know the contents of this letter, no doubt?" said Gaston to Raoul.
"Yes, monseigneur; M. le Prince at first gave me the message verbally, but upon reflection his highness took up his pen."
"It is beautiful writing," said Madame, "but I cannot read it."
"Will you read it to Madame, M. de Bragelonne?" said the duke.
"Yes, read it, if you please, monsieur."
Raoul began to read, Monsieur giving again all his attention. The letter was conceived in these terms:
"Monseigneur – The king is about to set out for the frontiers. You are aware that the marriage of his majesty is concluded upon. The king has done me the honor to appoint me his marechal-des-logis for this journey, and as I knew with what joy his majesty would pass a day at Blois, I venture to ask your royal highness's permission to mark the house you inhabit as our quarters. If, however, the suddenness of this request should create to your royal highness any embarrassment, I entreat you to say so by the messenger I send, a gentleman of my suite, M. le Vicomte de Bragelonne. My itinerary will depend upon your royal highness's determination, and instead of passing through Blois, we shall come through Vendome and Romorantin. I venture to hope that your royal highness will be pleased with my arrangement, it being the expression of my boundless desire to make myself agreeable to you."
"Nothing can be more gracious toward us," said Madame, who had more than once consulted the looks of her husband during the reading of the letter. "The king here!" exclaimed she, in a rather louder tone than would have been necessary to preserve secrecy.
"Monsieur," said his royal highness in his turn, "you will offer my thanks to M. de Conde, and express to him my gratitude for the honor he has done me."
Raoul bowed.
"On what day will his majesty arrive?" continued the prince.
"The king, monseigneur, will in all probability arrive this evening."
"But how, then, could he have known my reply if it had been in the negative?"
"I was desired, monseigneur, to return in all haste to Beaugency, to give counter-orders to the courier, who was himself to go back immediately with counter-orders to M. le Prince."
"His majesty is at Orleans, then?"
