“Monsieur le vicomte, I will push my interrogatory no further, and reproach myself with having carried it so far. I had desired you to avoid Mademoiselle de la Vallière, and not to see her without my permission. Oh, I am quite sure you have told me the truth, and that you took no measures to approach her. Chance has done me this injury; I do not accuse you of it. I will be content, then, with what I formerly said to you concerning this young lady. I do not reproach her with anything—God is my witness! only it is not my intention or wish that you should frequent her place of residence. I beg you once more, my dear Raoul, to understand that.” It was plain the limpid eyes of Raoul were troubled at this speech. “Now, my friend,” said the comte, with his soft smile, and in his customary tone, “let us talk of other matters. You are returning, perhaps, to your duty?” “No, monsieur, I have no duty for to-day, except the pleasure of remaining with you. The prince kindly appointed me no other: which was so much in accord with my wish.” “Is the king well?” “Perfectly.” “And monsieur le prince also?” “As usual, monsieur.” The comte forgot to inquire after Mazarin; that was an old habit. “Well, Raoul, since you are entirely mine, I will give up my whole day to you. Embrace me—again, again! You are at home, vicomte! Ah, there is our old Grimaud! Come in, Grimaud: monsieur le vicomte is desirous of embracing you likewise.” The good old man did not require to be twice told; he rushed in with open arms, Raoul meeting him half-way. “Now, if you please, we will go into the garden, Raoul. I will show you the new lodging I have had prepared for you during your leave of absence; and whilst examining the last winter’s plantations, and two saddle-horses I have just acquired, you will give me all the news of our friends in Paris.” The comte closed his manuscript, took the young man’s arm, and went out into the gardens with him. Grimaud looked at Raoul with a melancholy air as the young man passed out; observing that his head nearly touched the traverse of the doorway, stroking his white royale, he slowly murmured:—“How he has grown!” Chapter V. In which Something will be said of Cropoli. Whilst the Comte de la Fere with Raoul visits the new buildings he has erected, and the new horses he has bought, with the reader’s permission we will lead him back to the city of Blois, and make him a witness of the unaccustomed activity which pervades that city. It was in the hotels that the surprise of the news brought by Raoul was most sensibly felt. In fact, the king and the court at Blois, that is to say, a hundred horsemen, ten carriages, two hundred horses, as many lackeys as masters—where was this crowd to be housed? Where were to be lodged all the gentry of the neighborhood, who would gather in two or three hours after the news had enlarged the circle of its report, like the increasing circumferences produced by a stone thrown into a placid lake?