"But, sire," returned La Valliere, "I cannot visit M. de Saint-Aignan's rooms any more than I could M. de Guiche's. It is impossible--impossible." "And yet, Louise, I should have thought that under the safeguard of the king you could venture anything." "Under the safeguard of the king," she said, with a look full of tenderness. "You have faith in my word, I hope, Louise." "Yes, sire, when you are not present; but when you are present--when you speak to me--when I look upon you, I have faith in nothing." "What can possibly be done to reassure you?" "It is scarcely respectful, I know, to doubt the king, but you are not the king for me." "Thank Heaven!--I, at least, hope so most fervently; you see how anxiously I am trying to find or invent a means of removing all difficulty. Stay; would the presence of a third person reassure you?" "The presence of M. de Saint-Aignan would, certainly." "Really, Louise, you wound me by your suspicions." Louise did not answer, she merely looked steadfastly at him with that clear, piercing gaze which penetrates the very heart, and said softly to herself, "Alas! alas! it is not you of whom I am afraid--it is not you upon whom my doubts would fall." "Well," said the king, sighing, "I agree; and M. de Saint-Aignan, who enjoys the inestimable privilege of reassuring you, shall always be present at our conversations, I promise you." "You promise that, sire?" "Upon my honor as a gentleman; and you, on your side--" "Oh, wait, sire, that is not all yet; for such conversations ought, at least, to have a reasonable motive of some kind for M. de Saint-Aignan." "Dear Louise, every shade of delicacy of feeling is yours, and my only wish is to equal you on that point. It shall be just as you wish; therefore our conversations shall have a reasonable motive, and I have already hit upon one; so that from to-morrow, if you like--" "To-morrow?" "Do you mean that that is not soon enough?" exclaimed the king, caressing La Valliere's hand between his own. At this moment the sound of steps was heard in the corridor. "Sire, sire!" cried La Valliere, "some one is coming; do you hear? Oh, fly! fly! I implore you." The king made but one bound from the chair where he was sitting to his hiding-place behind the screen. He had barely time; for as he drew one of the folds before him, the handle of the door was turned, and Montalais appeared at the threshold. As a matter of course, she entered quite naturally, and without any ceremony, for she knew perfectly well that to knock at the door beforehand would be showing a suspicion toward La Valliere which would be displeasing to her. She accordingly entered, and after a rapid glance round the room, whereby she observed two chairs very close to each other, she was so long in shutting the door, which seemed to be difficult to close, one can hardly tell how or why, that the king had ample time to raise the trap-door, and to descend again to Saint-Aignan's room.