Louis' anger, increased by the bitterness of his own personal sufferings, hardly required this additional circumstance to foment it. Every one saw, from the kindling passion in the king's eyes, that an explosion was most imminent. A look from Colbert kept back the storm from bursting forth. The ambassador ventured to frame excuses by saying that the vanity of nations was a matter of little consequence; that Holland was proud that, with such limited resources, she had maintained her rank as a great nation, even against powerful monarchs, and that if a little smoke had intoxicated his country men, the king would be kindly disposed, and would excuse this intoxication. The king seemed as if he would be glad of some one's advice; he looked at Colbert, who remained impassible; then at D'Artagnan, who simply shrugged his shoulders, a movement which was like the opening of the flood-gates, whereby the king's anger, which he had restrained for so long a period, now burst forth. As no one knew what direction his anger might take, all preserved a dead silence. The second ambassador took advantage of it to begin his excuses also. While he was speaking, and while the king, who had again gradually returned to his own personal reflections, listened to the voice, full of nervous anxiety, with the air of an absent man listening to the murmuring of a cascade, D'Artagnan, on whose left hand Saint-Aignan was standing, approached the latter, and, in a voice which was loud enough to reach the king's ears, said: "Have you heard the news?" "What news?" said Saint-Aignan. "About La Valliere?" The king started, and involuntarily advanced a step nearer to them. "What has happened to La Valliere?" inquired Saint-Aignan, in a tone which can very easily be imagined. "Ah, poor girl! she is going to take the veil." "The veil!" exclaimed Saint-Aignan. "The veil!" cried the king, in the midst of the ambassador's discourse; but then, mindful of the rules of etiquette, he mastered himself, still listening, however, with rapt attention. "What order?" inquired Saint-Aignan. "The Carmelites of Chaillot." "Who the deuce told you that?" "She did herself." "You have seen her, then?" "Nay, I even went with her to the Carmelites." The king did not lose a syllable of this conversation, and again he could hardly control his feelings. "But what was the cause of her flight?" inquired Saint-Aignan. "Because the poor girl was driven away from the court yesterday," replied D'Artagnan. He had no sooner said this, than the king, with an authoritative gesture, said to the ambassador, "Enough, monsieur, enough!" Then, advancing toward the captain, he exclaimed, "Who says that La Valliere is going to take the religious vows?" "M. d'Artagnan," answered the favorite. "Is it true what you say?" said the king, turning toward the musketeer. "As true as truth itself." The king clenched his hands, and turned pale. "You have something further to add, M. d'Artagnan?" he said.