"I know nothing more, sire." "You added that Mademoiselle de la Valliere had been driven away from the court." "Yes, sire." "Is that true also?" "Ascertain it for yourself, sire." "And from whom?" "Oh!" said D'Artagnan, like a man declining to say anything further. The king almost bounded from his seat, regardless of ambassadors, ministers, courtiers, and politics. The queen-mother rose; she had heard everything, or, if she had not heard everything, she had guessed it. Madame, almost fainting from anger and fear, endeavored to rise as the queen-mother had done; but she sank down again upon her chair, which, by an instinctive movement, she made roll back a few paces. "Gentlemen," said the king, "the audience is over; I will communicate my answer, or rather my will, to Spain and to Holland;" and with a proud, imperious gesture, he dismissed the ambassadors. "Take care, my son," said the queen-mother, indignantly, "take care; you are hardly master of yourself, I think." "Ah, madame," returned the young lion, with a terrible gesture, "if I am not master of myself, I will be, I promise you, of those who do me outrage. Come with me, M. d'Artagnan, come." And he quitted the room in the midst of a general stupefaction and dismay. The king hastily descended the staircase, and was about to cross the courtyard. "Sire," said D'Artagnan, "your majesty mistakes the way." "No; I am going to the stables." "That is useless, sire, for I have horses ready for your majesty." The king's only answer was a look, but this look promised more than the ambition of three D'Artagnans could have dared to hope. CHAPTER XXXVI. CHAILLOT.