Chapter 32

Chapter XXXII:
Which Treats of Gardeners, of Ladders, and Maids of Honor.

Miracles, unfortunately, could not be always happening, whilst Madame's
ill-humor still continued. In a week's time, matters had reached such a
point, that the king could no longer look at La Valliere without a look
full of suspicion crossing his own. Whenever a promenade was proposed,
Madame, in order to avoid the recurrence of similar scenes to that of the
thunder-storm, or the royal oak, had a variety of indispositions ready
prepared; and, thanks to them, she was unable to go out, and her maids of
honor were obliged to remain indoors also. There was not the slightest
chance of means of paying a nocturnal visit; for in this respect the king
had, on the very first occasion, experienced a severe check, which
happened in the following manner. As at Fontainebleau, he had taken
Saint-Aignan with him one evening when he wished to pay La Valliere a
visit; but he had found no one but Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, who
had begun to call out "Fire!" and "Thieves!" in such a manner that a
perfect legion of chamber-maids, attendants, and pages, ran to her
assistance; so that Saint-Aignan, who had remained behind in order to
save the honor of his royal master, who had fled precipitately, was
obliged to submit to a severe scolding from the queen-mother, as well as
from Madame herself. In addition, he had, the next morning, received two
challenges from the De Mortemart family, and the king had been obliged to
interfere. This mistake had been owing to the circumstance of Madame
having suddenly ordered a change in the apartments of her maids of honor,
and directed La Valliere and Montalais to sleep in her own cabinet. No
gateway, therefore, was any longer open - not even communication by
letter; to write under the eyes of so ferocious an Argus as Madame, whose
temper and disposition were so uncertain, was to run the risk of exposure
to the greatest danger; and it can well be conceived into what a state of
continuous irritation, and ever increasing anger, all these petty
annoyances threw the young lion. The king almost tormented himself to
death endeavoring to discover a means of communication; and, as he did
not think proper to call in the aid of Malicorne or D'Artagnan, the means
were not discovered at all. Malicorne had, indeed, occasional brilliant
flashes of imagination, with which he tried to inspire the king with
confidence; but, whether from shame or suspicion, the king, who had at
first begun to nibble at the bait, soon abandoned the hook. In this way,
for instance, one evening, while the king was crossing the garden, and
looking up at Madame's windows, Malicorne stumbled over a ladder lying
beside a border of box, and said to Manicamp, then