Entering the chamber, I found matters little better there. His Majesty was not present, nor were any of the Court ladies; but half a dozen gentlemen, among whom I recognised Revol, one of the King’s secretaries, stood near the alcove. They looked up on my entrance, as though expecting news, and then, seeing who it was, looked away again impatiently. The Duke of Nevers was walking moodily to and fro before one of the windows, his hands clasped behind his back: while Biron and Crillon, reconciled by the common peril, talked loudly on the hearth. I hesitated a moment, uncertain how to proceed, for I was not yet so old at Court as to feel at home there. But, at last making up my mind, I walked boldly up to Crillon and requested his good offices to procure me an immediate audience of the king. ‘An audience? Do you mean you want to see him alone?’ he said, raising his eyebrows and looking whimsically at Biron. ‘That is my petition, M. de Crillon,’ I answered firmly, though my heart sank. ‘I am here on M. de Rambouillet’s business, and I need to see his Majesty forthwith.’ ‘Well, that is straightforward,’ he replied, clapping me on the shoulder. ‘And you shall see him. In coming to Crillon you have come to the right man. Revol,’ he continued, turning to the secretary, ‘this gentleman bears a message from M. de Rambouillet to the king. Take him to the closet without delay, my friend, and announce him. I will be answerable for him.’ But the secretary shrugged his shoulders up to his ears. ‘It is quite impossible, M. de Crillon,’ he said gravely. ‘Quite impossible at present.’ ‘Impossible! Chut! I do not know the word,’ Crillon retorted rudely. ‘Come, take him at once, and blame me if ill comes of it. Do you hear?’ ‘But his Majesty--’ ‘Well?’ ‘Is at his devotions,’ the secretary said stiffly. ‘His Majesty’s devotions be hanged!’ Crillon rejoined--so loudly that there was a general titter, and M. de Nevers laughed grimly. ‘Do you hear?’ the Avennais continued, his face growing redder and his voice higher, ‘or must I pull your ears, my friend? Take this gentleman to the closet, I say, and if his Majesty be angry, tell him it was by my order. I tell you he comes from Rambouillet.’ I do not know whether it was the threat, or the mention of M. de Rambouillet’s name, which convinced the secretary. But at any rate, after a moment’s hesitation, he acquiesced. He nodded sullenly to me to follow him, and led the way to a curtain which masked the door of the closet. I followed him across the chamber, after muttering a hasty word of acknowledgment to Crillon; and I had as nearly as possible reached the door when the bustle of some one entering the chamber caught my ear. I had just time to turn and see that this was Bruhl, just time to intercept the dark look of chagrin and surprise which he fixed on me, and then Revol, holding up the curtain, signed to me to enter.