“And he is named?” “Monsieur d’Artagnan, formerly lieutenant of the musketeers of your majesty.” Anne of Austria colored; Mazarin became yellow with shame; Louis XIV. was deeply thoughtful, and a drop of moisture fell from his pale brow. “What men!” murmured he. And, involuntarily, he darted a glance at the minister which would have terrified him, if Mazarin, at the moment, had not concealed his head under his pillow. “Monsieur,” said the young Duc d’Anjou, placing his hand, delicate and white as that of a woman, upon the arm of Athos, “tell that brave man, I beg you, that Monsieur, brother of the king, will to-morrow drink his health before five hundred of the best gentlemen of France.” And, on finishing these words, the young man, perceiving that his enthusiasm had deranged one of his ruffles, set to work to put it to rights with the greatest care imaginable. “Let us resume business, sire,” interrupted Mazarin who never was enthusiastic, and who wore no ruffles. “Yes, monsieur,” replied Louis XIV. “Pursue your communication, monsieur le comte,” added he, turning towards Athos. Athos immediately began and offered in due form the hand of the Princess Henrietta Stuart to the young prince, the king’s brother. The conference lasted an hour; after which the doors of the chamber were thrown open to the courtiers, who resumed their places as if nothing had been kept from them in the occupations of that evening. Athos then found himself again with Raoul, and the father and son were able to clasp each other’s hands. CHAPTER 42. In which Mazarin becomes Prodigal Whilst Mazarin was endeavoring to recover from the serious alarm he had just experienced, Athos and Raoul were exchanging a few words in a corner of the apartment. “Well, here you are at Paris, then, Raoul?” said the comte. “Yes, monsieur, since the return of M. le Prince.” “I cannot converse freely with you here, because we are observed; but I shall return home presently, and shall expect you as soon as your duty permits.”