Chapter 29 - Page 2

Hungary water, etc., etc.,
and ordered that all the doors should immediately be closed, a command
which was just in time, for the king's distress was fast becoming of a
most clamorous and despairing character. He had almost decided to send
for his own physician, when La Valliere exhibited signs of returning
animation. The first object which met her gaze, as she opened her eyes,
was the king at her feet; in all probability she did not recognize him,
for she uttered a deep sigh full of anguish and distress. Louis fixed
his eyes devouringly upon her face; and when, in the course of a few
moments, she recognized Louis, she endeavored to tear herself from his
embrace.

"Oh, heavens!" she murmured, "is not the sacrifice yet made?"

"No, no!" exclaimed the king, "and it shall _not_ be made, I swear."

Notwithstanding her weakness and utter despair, she rose from the ground,
saying, "It must be made, however; it must be; so do not stay me in my
purpose."

"I leave you to sacrifice yourself! I! never, never!" exclaimed the king.

"Well," murmured D'Artagnan, "I may as well go now. As soon as they
begin to speak, we may as well prevent there being any listeners." And
he quitted the room, leaving the lovers alone.

"Sire," continued La Valliere, "not another word, I implore you. Do not
destroy the only future I can hope for - my salvation; do not destroy the
glory and brightness of your own future for a mere caprice."

"A caprice?" cried the king.

"Oh, sire! it is now, only, that I can see clearly into your heart."

"You, Louise, what mean you?"

"An inexplicable impulse, foolish and unreasonable in its nature, may
ephemerally appear to offer a sufficient excuse for your conduct; but
there are duties imposed upon you which are incompatible with your regard
for a poor girl such as I am. So, forget me."

"I forget you!"

"You have already done so, once."

"Rather would I die."

"You cannot love one whose peace of mind you hold so lightly, and whom
you so cruelly abandoned, last night, to the bitterness of death."

"What can you mean? Explain yourself, Louise."

"What did you ask me yesterday morning? To love you. What did you
promise me in return? Never to let midnight pass without offering me an
opportunity of reconciliation, if, by any chance, your anger should be
roused against me."

"Oh! forgive me, Louise, forgive me! I was mad from jealousy."

"Jealousy is a sentiment unworthy of a king - a man. You may become
jealous again, and will end by killing me. Be merciful, then, and leave
me now to die."

"Another word, mademoiselle, in that strain, and you will see me expire
at your feet."

"No, no, sire, I am