At the moment when, despairing of extricating myself, I was stooping over Madame de Bruhl begging her to assist me, I heard, amid the babel of laughter and raillery which surrounded me--certain of the courtiers having already formed hands in a circle and sworn I should not depart without satisfying the ladies--a voice which struck a chord in my memory. I turned to see who the speaker was, and encountered no other than M. de Bruhl himself; who, with a flushed and angry face, was listening to the explanation which a friend was pouring into his ear. Standing at the moment with my knee on Madame de Bruhl’s stool, and remembering very well the meeting on the stairs, I conceived in a flash that the man was jealous; but whether he had yet heard my name, or had any clew to link me with the person who had rescued Mademoiselle de la Vire from his clutches, I could not tell. Nevertheless his presence led my thoughts into a new channel. The determination to punish him began to take form in my mind, and very quickly I regained my composure. Still I was for giving him one chance. Accordingly I stooped once more to Madame de Bruhl’s ear, and begged her to spare me the embarrassment of telling my tale. But then, finding her pitiless, as I expected, and the rest of the company growing more and more insistent, I hardened my heart to go through with the fantastic notion which had occurred to me. Indicating by a gesture that I was prepared to obey, and the duchess crying for a hearing, this was presently obtained, the sudden silence adding the king himself to my audience. ‘What is it?’ he asked, coming up effusively, with a lap-dog in his arms. ‘A new scandal, eh?’ ‘No, sire, a new tale-teller,’ the duchess answered pertly. ‘If your Majesty will sit, we shall hear him the sooner.’ He pinched her ear and sat down in the chair which a page presented. ‘What! is it Rambouillet’s GRISON again?’ he said with some surprise. ‘Well, fire away, man. But who brought you forward as a Rabelais?’ There was a general cry of ‘Madame de Bruhl!’ whereat that lady shook her fair hair, about her face, and cried out for someone to bring her a mask. ‘Ha, I see!’ said the king drily, looking pointedly at M. de Bruhl, who was as black as thunder. ‘But go on, man.’