Chapter 11 - Page 2

Malicorne. "Well, and in the other direction, what is
stirring?"

"The king wished, this evening, after the lottery, to see Mademoiselle de
la Valliere."

"Well, and he has seen her?"

"No, indeed!"

"What do you mean by that?"

"The door was shut and locked."

"So that - "

"So that the king was obliged to go back again, looking very sheepish,
like a thief who has forgotten his crowbar."

"Good."

"And in the third place?" inquired Montalais.

"The courier who has just arrived for De Guiche came from M. de
Bragelonne."

"Excellent," said Montalais, clapping her hands together.

"Why so?"

"Because we have work to do. If we get weary now, something unlucky will
be sure to happen."

"We must divide the work, then," said Malicorne, "in order to avoid
confusion."

"Nothing easier," replied Montalais. "Three intrigues, carefully nursed,
and carefully encouraged, will produce, one with another, and taking a
low average, three love letters a day."

"Oh!" exclaimed Malicorne, shrugging his shoulders, "you cannot mean what
you say, darling; three letters a day, that may do for sentimental common
people. A musketeer on duty, a young girl in a convent, may exchange
letters with their lovers once a day, perhaps, from the top of a ladder,
or through a hole in the wall. A letter contains all the poetry their
poor little hearts have to boast of. But the cases we have in hand
require to be dealt with very differently."

"Well, finish," said Montalais, out of patience with him. "Some one may
come."

"Finish! Why, I am only at the beginning. I have still three points as
yet untouched."

"Upon my word, he will be the death of me, with his Flemish
indifference," exclaimed Montalais.

"And you will drive me mad with your Italian vivacity. I was going to
say that our lovers here will be writing volumes to each other. But what
are you driving at?"

"At this. Not one of our lady correspondents will be able to keep the
letters they may receive."

"Very likely."

"M. de Guiche will not be able to keep his either."

"That is probable."

"Very well, then; I will take care of all that."

"That is the very thing that is impossible," said Malicorne.

"Why so?"

"Because you are not your own mistress; your room is as much La
Valliere's as yours; and there are certain persons who will think nothing
of visiting and searching a maid of honor's room; so that I am terribly
afraid of the queen, who is as jealous as a Spaniard; of the queen-
mother, who is as jealous as a couple of Spaniards; and, last of all, of
Madame herself, who has jealousy enough for ten