Louis was evidently puzzled. Now the best way to cut the Gordian knot of an _embarras_, is to run away from it, and let it settle itself. It is sure to get unravelled somehow; and by the time you come back, a thousand to one the fracas is over. Louis the Thirteenth, who of all men on earth hated what is called in the vulgar tongue _a piece of work_, except when he made it himself, was very much in the habit of adopting the expedient above mentioned, and, indeed, had been somewhat a loser by the experiment. However, it was a habit now, confirmed by age, and therefore more powerful than Nature. Accordingly, after thinking for a moment about the Queen and the Cardinal, and their mutual hatred, and their being pent up together in the small space of Chantilly, like two game cocks in a cock-pit; and seeing no end to it whatever, he suddenly burst forth-- "Come, Messieurs, I'll go hunt. Quick! saddle the horses!" and casting kingly care from his mind, he began humming the old air _Que ne suis je un Berger!_ while he walked across the manège towards the stables. But just at that moment, Chavigni presented himself, doffing his hat with all respect to the King, who could not avoid seeing him. Louis was brought to bay, but still he stood his ground. "Ah! good day, Monsieur de Chavigni," exclaimed he, moving on towards the stables. "Come in good time to hunt with us. We know you are free of the forest." "I humbly thank your Majesty," replied the Statesman; "but I am attending the Cardinal." "And why not attend the King, Sir? Ha!" exclaimed Louis, his brow gathering into a heavy frown. "It is our will that you attend us, Sir." Chavigni did not often commit such blunders, but it was not very easy to remember at all times to pay those external marks of respect which generally attend real power, to a person who had weakly resigned his authority into the hands of another: and as the Cardinal not only possessed kingly sway, but maintained kingly state, it sometimes happened that the King himself was treated with scanty ceremony. This, however, always irritated Louis not a little. He cared not for the splendour of a throne, he cared not even for the luxuries of royalty; but of the personal reverence due to his station, he would not bate an iota, and clung to the shadow when he had let the substance pass away. The Statesman now hastened to repair his error, and bowing profoundly, he replied, "Had I not thought that in serving the Cardinal I best served your Majesty, I should not have ventured on so bold an answer; but as your Majesty is good enough to consider my pleasure in the chase, and the still greater pleasure of accompanying you, your invitation will be more than an excuse for breaking my appointment with the Cardinal."