"Sire, if I do not marry Lauzun," groaned Mademoiselle, almost inaudibly, "I shall die. I never loved any other man. I ask my life of you, cousin. Do not take my life. You are sacrificing me to a court intrigue," she added faintly, catching at his hand, for she was fast losing heart; "but believe me, and let others know, that much as I love and respect your Majesty, and desire to obey you, I will never, never marry another man." Holding the King's hand, she kissed it, and gazed imploringly at him. "Dear cousin, do not be so unhappy," he replied, at a loss what answer to make to such a home-thrust, which he knew to be so true. "Believe me, your obedience in this matter of Lauzun will make you doubly dear to me. You can command me in all other ways." "Nothing—nothing can give life a value without Lauzun!" broke in Mademoiselle vehemently. "My cousin," answered the King gravely, "I cannot permit you to be sacrificed. You are made a tool of. I cannot permit it. Now," he continued, rising,—and with difficulty suppressing a yawn—"you can have nothing more to say to me. I shall not alter my determination." Mademoiselle wrung her hands, the King drew her to him and kissed her on the forehead. As he did so, a tear dropped upon her cheek. "Oh, Sire!" cried Mademoiselle, "you pity me, and you have the heart to refuse me! You are the master of my fate. Have mercy on me! Do not give heed to others. Ah, Sire, you are destroying me!" "Come to me to-morrow, my cousin," said Louis soothingly, much affected, but unshaken by her prayers. "Come and tell me you have forgiven me. Now, good night," and again he tenderly embraced her. Then he summoned his attendants to conduct her to her coach. * * * * * "Lauzun had played deep for a great prize, and he had lost the game. He broke out into savage abuse and called the King opprobrious names. Absolutely maddened by rage, he rushed to the palace. He was refused admittance. Yet he swore and cursed at the attendants until he forced them to let him pass. Then he strode up-stairs to the apartments of Madame de Montespan. Here he found the King seated by her side." Louis rose, placed himself in front of the Marquise, and faced him with a look of the gravest displeasure. "Sire," cried Lauzun, his face swollen with passion, "I am come to ask you what I have done that you should dishonour me?" "Come, come, Lauzun," replied Louis, still standing before Madame de Montespan; "calm yourself." Lauzun was too deep in the royal secrets to make an open breach with him either advisable or safe. "No, Sire," roared Lauzun, emboldened by the King's calmness; "permit me to say I will _not_ calm myself. I will not permit this humiliation. There is my sword," and he drew it from its scabbard; "your Majesty has made me unworthy to wear it. Take it—take my life also." Lauzun presented his sword. The King put it from him with an imperious gesture.