"Indeed, . . . is it you, my child? You have returned, then?" cried Louis XV., in a tone of great pleasure. Then reflecting that he should expose the Marquis to the danger of contagion in permitting him to enter his chamber, he added: "No . . . no . . . the air of this apartment is fatal . . . don't come in; I forbid it." . . . "For the first time in my life I shall dare to disobey an order of the king. . . . But I have a duty to accomplish, and I will accomplish it," cried Létorière; and raising the curtain, he advanced towards the monarch's bed. "Go out . . . go out this instant, ill-fated child!" cried the prince, raising himself to a sitting posture, and extending his hand towards the door with an imperious air. But Létorière threw himself on the king's hand; which, despite his majesty's resistance, he kissed respectfully several times. Then he knelt near the bed, saying: "May the king pardon my audacity . . . but there is now no longer any reason for forbidding my presence." . . . "Go away . . . leave me;" replied Louis XV. "Four years ago I was happier . . . the king deigned to allow me to kiss his royal hand in the garden of Versailles," said the Marquis, with an accent of filial veneration. "But four years ago . . . my hand could not communicate a frightful disease . . . death, perhaps!" said the sovereign, much moved. The courageous pertinacity of Létorière touched more deeply this excellent prince, because, save by some inside servants, he had been abandoned by nearly all the courtiers. The high officials of the crown, whose duty it was to remain near his person, had obeyed only too faithfully his orders, which forbade them to stay. The fine features of the king, disfigured by his disease, already indicated the approach of death. At this supreme moment the unfortunate dissensions, the threatening political agitation which had darkened the latter part of his reign, filled him with new anxieties. Létorière's noble devotion for a moment diverted his thoughts from these painful themes which saddened his last moments. "You are a madman, . . . you deserve all my anger for daring to disobey me and expose yourself thus," . . . cried Louis XV., with an expression rather of grief than of wrath, and casting a tender look on Létorière, who, still kneeling near the bed, kept profound silence. "Oh, may the king have pity on me! this may perhaps be the last time I can show him my gratitude." "Again, I tell you this disease is contagious. . . . Do you not see that they have abandoned me . . . that I am alone . . . that I wish to be alone?" the prince hastened to add with bitterness, as if he wished to disguise from himself his first thought; the devotion of the Marquis made the ingratitude of the courtiers appear yet more shameful to him. "Brave and noble heart!" added Louis XV., looking at the Marquis tenderly. "That hast no fear; thou art faithful!"