University of Virginia Library

3. CHAPTER III.
SHOWING HOW THE KING OF FRANCE WENT UP A LADDER.

The King descended into the garden. Proceeding
cautiously along the terraced walk, he came to
the wall immediately below the windows of Madame.
To the left were two windows, concealed by vines.
They opened into the apartments of La Valliere.

The King sighed.

“It is about nineteen feet to that window,” said
the King. “If I had a ladder about nineteen feet
long, it would reach to that window. This is logic.”

Suddenly the King stumbled over something. “St.
Denis!” he exclaimed, looking down. It was a ladder,
just nineteen feet long.

The King placed it against the wall. In so doing,
he fixed the lower end upon the abdomen of a man
who lay concealed by the wall. The man did not
utter a cry or wince. The King suspected nothing.
He ascended the ladder.

The ladder was too short. Louis the Grand was
not a tall man. He was still two feet below the window.

“Dear me!” said the King.

Suddenly the ladder was lifted two feet from below.
This enabled the King to leap in the window.
At the further end of the apartment stood a young
girl, with red hair and a lame leg. She was trembling
with emotion.

“Louise!”

“The King!”

“Ah, my God, mademoiselle.”

“Ah, my God, sire.”

But a low knock at the door interrupted the lovers.
The King uttered a cry of rage; Louise one of
despair.

The door opened and D'Artagnan entered.

“Good evening, sire,” said the musketeer.

The King touched a bell. Porthos appeared in
the doorway.

“Good evening, sire.”

“Arrest M. D'Artagnan.”

Porthos looked at D'Artagnan, and did not move.

The King almost turned purple with rage. He
again touched the bell. Athos entered.

“Count, arrest Porthos and D'Artagnan.”

The Count de la Fere glanced at Porthos and
D'Artagnan, and smiled sweetly.

“Sacre! Where is Aramis?” said the King, violently.

“Here sire,” and Aramis entered.

“Arrest Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan.

Aramis bowed and folded his arms.

“Arrest yourself!”

Aramis did not move.

The King shuddered and turned pale. “Am I
not King of France?”

“Assuredly sire, but we are also severally, Porthos,
Aramis, D'Artagnan, and Athos.”

“Ah!” said the King.

“Yes, sire.”

“What does this mean?”

“It means, your majesty,” said Aramis, stepping
forward, “that your conduct as a married man is
highly improper. I am an Abbé, and I object to
these improprieties. My friends here, D'Artagnan,
Athos and Porthos, pure-minded young men, are
also terribly shocked. Observe sire, how they
blush!”

Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan blushed.

“Ah,” said the King, thoughtfully. “You teach
me a lesson. You are devoted and noble young
gentlemen, but your only weakness is your excessive
modesty. From this moment I make you all Marshals
and Dukes, with the exception of Aramis.

“And me, sire?” said Aramis.

“You shall be an Archbishop!”

The four friends looked up and then rushed into
each other's arms. The King embraced Louise de la
Valliere, by way of keeping them company. A
pause ensued. At last Athos spoke:

“Swear, my children, that next to yourselves, you
will respect—the King of France; and remember
that `Forty years after' we will meet again.”