“I trust,” said the young man, treading his way daintily into the room, as if that humble chamber had been the boudoir of a princess, “I trust that the affair of yesterday has left no bad effect on Dame Tillery or mademoiselle?” “Oh, monsieur! do not think of us,” said the dame; “but relieve our minds about her majesty, the queen.” “I have not seen her highness this morning; but Madame Campan reports her in no degree injured by her adventure. The king, she says, is most disturbed of the two, and declares the Swiss cottages shall be razed to the ground, and all the pretty cows butchered.” “Oh! that would be cruel!” protested the dame; “just as her majesty was getting such a knack at churning, too.” “True, it would be a great privation; for her highness loves these rustic amusements. All her ladies have been trying to make the king understand that there was no malice in the beast; but he will not be convinced.” “How should he,” cried the dame; “it was a savage monster, and would have led the whole drove into mischief, if I had not flung myself before her, heaven only knows at what peril. I hope the king understands all about that.” A mischievous smile came into the blue eyes of Richelieu, but his lips gave no evidence of amusement. On the contrary, he answered, with great appearance of interest, that the king knew how much he was indebted to the landlady of the Swan, and it was that he might be assured of her safety, and that of her fair protégée, that he had himself ventured to call upon them. The young duke took a chair as he said this, begged Marguerite to sit down with his eyes, and Dame Tillery to oblige him in the same way, with his voice. When they had obeyed him, he dropped into a conversation, which soon arose far above Dame Tillery’s capacity, though she listened attentively, and occasionally raised her plump hands in admiration. At first Marguerite answered him shyly, and with blushes; but, after a little, her interest deepened, and she spoke with less restraint. He had found the way to her heart, and was talking of the queen—of her goodness, her beauty, and the gratitude she was sure to feel for the fair girl who had thrown herself, with such heroic self-sacrifice, between her and danger.