“No, certainly not; I have not seen a pen in either of their hands for the last week.” “On what terms are you with Madame?” “The very best.” “And with the king?” “The king always smiles at me whenever I pass him.” “Good. Now tell me whom have the two lovers selected to serve as their screen?” “La Vallière.” “Oh, oh, poor girl! We must prevent that!” “Why?” “Because, if M. Raoul Bragelonne were to suspect it, he would either kill her or kill himself.” “Raoul, poor fellow! do you think so?” “Women pretend to have a knowledge of the state of people’s affections,” said Malicorne, “and they do not even know how to read the thoughts of their own minds and hearts. Well, I can tell you that M. de Bragelonne loves La Vallière to such a degree that, if she deceived him, he would, I repeat, either kill himself or kill her.” “But the king is there to defend her,” said Montalais. “The king!” exclaimed Malicorne; “Raoul would kill the king as he would a common thief.” “Good heavens!” said Montalais; “you are mad, M. Malicorne.” “Not in the least. Everything I have told you is, on the contrary, perfectly serious; and, for my own part, I know one thing.” “What is that?” “That I shall quietly tell Raoul of the trick.” “Hush!” said Montalais, mounting another round of the ladder, so as to approach Malicorne more closely, “do not open your lips to poor Raoul.” “Why not?” “Because, as yet you know nothing at all.” “What is the matter, then?” “Why, this evening--but no one is listening, I hope?” “No.” “This evening, then, beneath the royal oak, La Vallière said aloud, and innocently enough, ‘I cannot conceive that when one has once seen the king, one can ever love another man.’” Malicorne almost jumped off the wall. “Unhappy girl! did she really say that?” “Word for word.” “And she thinks so?” “La Vallière always thinks what she says.” “That positively cries aloud for vengeance. Why, women are the veriest serpents,” said Malicorne. “Compose yourself, my dear Malicorne, compose yourself.” “No, no; let us take the evil in time, on the contrary. There is time enough yet to tell Raoul of it.” “Blunderer, on the contrary, it is too late,” replied Montalais. “How so?” “La Vallière’s remark, which was intended for the king, reached its destination.” “The king knows it, then? The king was told of it, I suppose?” “The king heard it.” “_Ahime!_ as the cardinal used to say.” “The king was hidden in the thicket close to the royal oak.” “It follows, then,” said Malicorne, “that for the future, the plan which the king and Madame have arranged, will go as easily as if it were on wheels, and will pass over poor Bragelonne’s body.” “Precisely so.” “Well,” said Malicorne, after a moment’s reflection, “do not let us interpose our poor selves between a large oak-tree and a great king, for we should certainly be ground to pieces.” “The very thing I was going to say to you.” “Let us think of ourselves, then.” “My own idea.”