“Yes, it is my king who disquiets me; you must know, M. Aurilly, that at chess the king is a very insignificant person, who has no will, who can only go one step forward or back, or one to the right or left, while he is surrounded by active enemies, by knights who jump three squares at a time, by a crowd of pawns who surround him, so that if he be badly counseled he is a ruined king in no time, ma foi.” “But, M. Chicot, how does it happen that you are studying this at the door of his royal highness’ room?” “Because I am waiting for M. Quelus, who is in there.” “Where?” “With his highness.” “With his highness! What is he doing there? I did not think they were such friends.” “Hush!” then he whispered in Aurilly’s ear “he is come to ask pardon of the duke for a little quarrel they had yesterday.” “Really!” “It was the king who insisted on it; you know on what excellent terms the brothers are just now. The king would not suffer an impertinence of Quelus’s to pass, and ordered him to apologize.” “Really!” “Ah! M. Aurilly, I think that we are entering the golden age; the Louvre is about to become Arcadia, and the two brothers Arcades ambo.” Aurilly smiled, and passed into the ante-chamber, where he was courteously saluted by Quelus, between whose hands a superb cup and ball of ebony inlaid with ivory was making rapid evolutions. “Bravo! M. Quelus,” said Aurilly. “Ah! my dear M. Aurilly, when shall I play cup and ball as well as you play the lute?” “When you have studied your plaything as long as I have my instrument. But where is monseigneur? I thought you were with him.” “I have an audience with him, but Schomberg comes first.” “What! M. de Schomberg, also!” “Oh! mon Dieu; yes. The king settled all that. He is in the next room. Enter, M. Aurilly, and remind the prince that we are waiting for him.” Aurilly opened the second door and saw Schomberg reclining on a kind of couch, from which he amused himself by sending from a tube little balls of earth through a gold ring, suspended from the ceiling by a silk thread, while a favorite dog brought him back the balls as they fell. “Ah! guten morgen, M. Aurilly, you see I am amusing myself while I wait for my audience.” “But where is monseigneur?” “Oh! he is occupied in pardoning D’Epernon and Maugiron. But will you not enter, you who are privileged?” “Perhaps it would be indiscreet.” “Not at all; enter, M. Aurilly, enter.” And he pushed him into the next room, where the astonished musician perceived D’Epernon before a mirror, occupied in stiffening his mustachios, while Maugiron, seated near the window, was cutting out engravings, by the side of which the bas-reliefs on the temple of Venus Aphrodite would have looked holy. The duke, without his sword, was in his armchair between these two men, who only looked at him to watch his movements, and only spoke to him to say something disagreeable: seeing Aurilly, he got up to meet him.