“What, our strange locksmith!” he muttered. “Can this man have been of service to the queen?” “Sire,” said Marie Antoinette, “this is the person who conquered that wild animal. The heroic girl would have died for me, but his strength saved us both.” Louis hesitated, cleared his throat, and, after a moment, addressed the man as if he had never seen him before. “You have rendered the queen a great service,” he said, “and for that we are glad to thank you, not in words alone. A king has always the power to be grateful, and here he has the wish. Name the thing you most want without hesitation.” “Sire, I wish to speak with the King and Queen of France alone.” Again Louis frowned; he had not forgotten that interview in his work-shop, and the bold words spoken there. “It is an unusual request,” he said, glancing uneasily at the queen; “and one which her majesty must decide upon, after she has been fairly warned of the free speech which may await her compliance.” “Ah, Louis! I can deny nothing to this man—he has saved my life.” “I know,” answered the king; “but that does not give him a right to lecture his monarch.” “He will never attempt that,” answered Marie Antoinette, smiling. “Let us go to your private cabinet, sire; this good man has some favor to ask, and is modest. Why not see him alone?” CHAPTER XXXII. MONSIEUR JACQUES PLEADS BEFORE ROYALTY. Louis made a motion with his hand. A door was opened, and he led the queen from her presence-chamber into a small cabinet, to which he was followed by Monsieur Jacques. Here the king seated himself after first conducting the queen to a chair. He was very grave, and seemed to be dreading that some unpleasant subject might be forced upon them; but Jacques stood in the presence, modest, grave, and unpresuming as a child. The king could hardly recognize in that still face the man who had almost terrified him the day before. “Now speak freely,” said Marie Antoinette, who had no idea that this person was not an entire stranger to her husband, “speak out your wishes. It is our desire to gratify them.” “Lady, I but ask the privilege of free speech.” The king moved uneasily in his seat. He had grave fears that even gratitude would not make Marie Antoinette tolerant of such bold language as he had listened to the day before; but the lady answered, “But a moment since we desired you to speak freely.” “Then I will ask his majesty to remember all that I said to him yesterday.” “Yesterday!” exclaimed the queen; “and you saw his highness yesterday?” “Yes, madame. I intruded myself upon him, rudely, perhaps, for I am but one of the people; and I said things that would have cost me life or liberty had they been uttered to his grandfather; but they were honestly said, and our good king forgave their roughness because of the truth that was in them.”