At this announcement of a battle having taken place, the princess opened her mouth as though to ask a question of interest; but her lips closed again without articulating a word, while the color gradually faded from her cheeks. The queen saw this, and doubtless her maternal heart translated the emotion, for addressing Raoul again: “And no evil has happened to the young Count de Guiche?” she asked; “for not only is he our servant, as you say, sir, but more—he is one of our friends.” “No, madame,” replied Raoul; “on the contrary, he gained great glory and had the honor of being embraced by his highness, the prince, on the field of battle.” The young princess clapped her hands; and then, ashamed of having been betrayed into such a demonstration of joy, she half turned away and bent over a vase of roses, as if to inhale their odor. “Let us see,” said the queen, “what the count says.” And she opened the letter and read: “Madame,—Being unable to have the honor of writing to you myself, by reason of a wound I have received in my right hand, I have commanded my son, the Count de Guiche, who, with his father, is equally your humble servant, to write to tell you that we have just gained the battle of Lens, and that this victory cannot fail to give great power to Cardinal Mazarin and to the queen over the affairs of Europe. If her majesty will have faith in my counsels she ought to profit by this event to address at this moment, in favor of her august husband, the court of France. The Vicomte de Bragelonne, who will have the honor of remitting this letter to your majesty, is the friend of my son, who owes to him his life; he is a gentleman in whom your majesty may confide entirely, in case your majesty may have some verbal or written order to remit to me. “I have the honor to be, with respect, etc., “Maréchal de Grammont.” At the moment mention occurred of his having rendered a service to the count, Raoul could not help turning his glance toward the young princess, and then he saw in her eyes an expression of infinite gratitude to the young man; he no longer doubted that the daughter of King Charles I. loved his friend. “The battle of Lens gained!” said the queen; “they are lucky here indeed; they can gain battles! Yes, the Maréchal de Grammont is right; this will change the aspect of French affairs, but I much fear it will do nothing for English, even if it does not harm them. This is recent news, sir,” continued she, “and I thank you for having made such haste to bring it to me; without this letter I should not have heard till to-morrow, perhaps after to-morrow—the last of all Paris.” “Madame,” said Raoul, “the Louvre is but the second palace this news has reached; it is as yet unknown to all, and I had sworn to the Count de Guiche to remit this letter to your majesty before even I should embrace my guardian.” “Your guardian! is he, too, a Bragelonne?” asked Lord de Winter. “I once knew a Bragelonne—is he still alive?”