Chapter 28 - Page 2

of the
maids of honor, - a circumstance which in no way astonished D'Artagnan,
for he more than suspected, although La Valliere had not breathed a
syllable on the subject, that the king had some kind of reparation to
make. Saint-Aignan followed him as he had done the previous evening,
rather less uneasy in his mind, though still slightly agitated, for he
fervently trusted that at seven o'clock in the morning there might be
only himself and the king awake amongst the august guests at the palace.
D'Artagnan stood at the window, careless and perfectly calm in his
manner. One could almost have sworn that he noticed nothing, and was
utterly ignorant who were these two hunters after adventures, passing
like shadows across the courtyard, wrapped up in their cloaks. And yet,
all the while that D'Artagnan appeared not to be looking at them at all,
he did not for one moment lose sight of them, and while he whistled that
old march of the musketeers, which he rarely recalled except under great
emergencies, he conjectured and prophesied how terrible would be the
storm which would be raised on the king's return. In fact, when the king
entered La Valliere's apartment and found the room empty and the bed
untouched, he began to be alarmed, and called out to Montalais, who
immediately answered the summons; but her astonishment was equal to the
king's. All that she could tell his majesty was, that she had fancied
she had heard La Valliere's weeping during a portion of the night, but,
knowing that his majesty had paid her a visit, she had not dared to
inquire what was the matter.

"But," inquired the king, "where do you suppose she is gone?"

"Sire," replied Montalais, "Louise is of a very sentimental disposition,
and as I have often seen her rise at daybreak in order to go out into the
garden, she may, perhaps, be there now."

This appeared probable, and the king immediately ran down the staircase
in search of the fugitive. D'Artagnan saw him grow very pale, and
talking in an excited manner with his companion, as he went towards the
gardens; Saint-Aignan following him, out of breath. D'Artagnan did not
stir from the window, but went on whistling, looking as if he saw
nothing, yet seeing everything. "Come, come," he murmured, when the king
disappeared, "his majesty's passion is stronger than I thought; he is now
doing, I think, what he never did for Mademoiselle de Mancini."

In a quarter of an hour the king again appeared: he had looked
everywhere, was completely out of breath, and, as a matter of course, had
not discovered anything. Saint-Aignan, who still followed him, was
fanning himself with his hat, and in a gasping voice, asking for
information about La Valliere from such of the servants as were about, in