Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente and Montalais, who stood a few paces from the king and La Valliere, motionless and almost petrified at the recollection of their conversation with La Valliere, did not even think of offering their assistance, feeling restrained by the presence of the king, who, with one knee on the ground, held La Valliere round the waist with his arm.
"You heard, sire!" murmured Athenais.

But the king did not reply; he remained with his eyes fixed upon La Valliere's half-closed eyes, and held her quiescent hand in his own.
"Of course," replied Saint-Aignan, who, on his side, hoping that Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, too, would faint, advancing towards her, holding his arms extended,--"of course; we did not even lose a single word." But the haughty Athenais was not a woman to faint easily; she darted a terrible look at Saint-Aignan, and fled.

Montalais, with more courage, advanced hurriedly towards Louise, and received her from the king's hands, who was already fast losing his presence of mind, as he felt his face covered by the perfumed tresses of the seemingly dying girl.

"Excellent," whispered Saint-Aignan.

"This is indeed an adventure; and it will be my own fault if I am not the first to relate it." The king approached him, and, with a trembling voice and a passionate gesture, said, "Not a syllable, comte." The poor king forgot that, only an hour before, he had given him a similar recommendation, but with the very opposite intention; namely, that the comte should be indiscreet.