“Enter, gentlemen, enter,” said the queen. There was then amongst that crowd a moment’s hesitation, which looked like shame. They had expected resistance, they had expected to be thwarted, to have to force the gates, to overturn the guards. The gates had opened of themselves, and the king, ostensibly at least, had no other guard at his bed-head but his mother. The foremost of them stammered and attempted to fall back. “Enter, gentlemen,” said Laporte, “since the queen desires you so to do.” Then one more bold than the rest ventured to pass the door and to advance on tiptoe. This example was imitated by the rest, until the room filled silently, as if these men had been the humblest, most devoted courtiers. Far beyond the door the heads of those who were not able to enter could be seen, all craning to their utmost height to try and see. D’Artagnan saw it all through an opening he had made in the curtain, and in the very first man who entered he recognized Planchet. “Sir,” said the queen to him, thinking he was the leader of the band, “you wished to see the king and therefore I determined to show him to you myself. Approach and look at him and say if we have the appearance of people who wish to run away.” “No, certainly,” replied Planchet, rather astonished at the unexpected honor conferred upon him. “You will say, then, to my good and faithful Parisians,” continued Anne, with a smile, the expression of which did not deceive D’Artagnan, “that you have seen the king in bed, asleep, and the queen also ready to retire.” “I shall tell them, madame, and those who accompany me will say the same thing; but——” “But what?” asked Anne of Austria. “Will your majesty pardon me,” said Planchet, “but is it really the king who is lying there?” Anne of Austria started. “If,” she said, “there is one among you who knows the king, let him approach and say whether it is really his majesty lying there.” A man wrapped in a cloak, in the folds of which his face was hidden, approached and leaned over the bed and looked. For one second, D’Artagnan thought the man had some evil design and he put his hand to his sword; but in the movement made by the man in stooping a portion of his face was uncovered and D’Artagnan recognized the coadjutor. “It is certainly the king,” said the man, rising again. “God bless his majesty!” “Yes,” repeated the leader in a whisper, “God bless his majesty!” and all these men, who had entered enraged, passed from anger to pity and blessed the royal infant in their turn. “Now,” said Planchet, “let us thank the queen. My friends, retire.” They all bowed, and retired by degrees as noiselessly as they had entered. Planchet, who had been the first to enter, was the last to leave. The queen stopped him. “What is your name, my friend?” she said. Planchet, much surprised at the inquiry, turned back.