At this moment the door opened, and Zamore announced:
"The King."
"The King!" cried Madame du Barry, seizing Monsieur de Chauvelin's hand; "the King! Not a word. We will resume the subject another time."
The King entered; his eyes travelled straight to Madame du Barry, yet it was the Marquis he first accosted.
"Ah! Chauvelin, Chauvelin! " exclaimed the King, struck by the alteration in the Marquis's features, "are you really and truly going to die. 'Pon my life, you look like a ghost, my friend."
"Die! Monsieur de Chauvelin die!" cried the light-hearted young Countess with a laugh; "no, I forbid that possitively. So you forget, Sire, the horoscope they drew him, five years ago, at the Fair of the Loges de Saint-Germain? "
"What horoscope?" asked the King.
"Must I repeat it?"
"Certainly."
"You do not believe in horoscopes, Sire, I hope."
"No; besides, if I did, I should ask you to tell me all the same."
"Well, it was predicted that Monsieur de Chauvelin would die two months before your Majesty."
"And who is the fool who predicted that?" the King asked with a tinge of anxiety in his voice.
"Why a very skilful sorcerer, the same man who predicted that I . . ."
"'Tis all foolishness together all this," broke in the King with an unmistakable gesture of annoyance. "Come, let us look at the mirror."
"In that case, Sire, we must pass into the next room."
"Let us do so."
"Show us the way. Sire; you know it, for it leads to the bedchamber of your very humble servant."
It was quite true; the King was perfectly well acquainted with the way, and took the lead. The mirror stood on the dressing-table, hidden under a heavy drapery, which was removed by the King's order, leaving open to admiration a veritable masterpiece worthy of Benvenuto Cellini. The frame was of massive gold and was surmounted by two Cupids in full relief holding up a Royal crown, just under which came naturally the head of the person looking in the glass.
"Magnificent, magnificent! " cried the King. " Really Rotiers has surpassed himself. I will tell him how fine I think it is. It is I who make you this present, Countess, you understand."
"You give it me complete."
"Of course I do."
"Glass and frame? "
"Yes, glass and frame."
"Including this?" persisted the Countess with a cajoling smile that horrified the Marquis, especially after what he had just read, and pointing to the Royal crown.
"That gewgaw?" said the King. "Oh! you can play with it as much as ever you please. Countess; only I warn you, it is heavy. Now shame on you, Chauvelin! you won't unbend, even when you have the Countess to look at, and the Countess's mirror; why, man 'tis a double favour she bestows on you, for you see her twice over."
This graceful compliment from the King was rewarded by a kiss from the fair Countess's lips; but the Marquis made no sign.
"What do you think of the mirror, Marquis? Give us the benefit of your opinion, come."
"Why should I, Sire?" asked the Marquis.
"Why? because you are a man of taste, egad!"
"I wish I had never seen it."
"So! now why do you say that?"
"Because I could at any rate have denied its existence then."
"Which means?"
"Sire, the Royal crown is ill placed in the hands of Cupid," replied the Marquis, bowing low. Madame du Barry grew purple with anger, while the King, at a loss what to say, pretended not to see the point.
"Nay, but on the contrary those Cupids are charming," returned Louis XV.; "they hold the crown with an unparalleled grace. Look at their little arms; you would think they were carrying a wreath of flowers."
"That is just what they should carry; Cupids are only good for such work."
"Cupids are good for any task, Monsieur de Chauvelin," said the Countess; " you knew it well enough once, but at your age one forgets these things."
"No doubt; and it belongs to young men like me to remember them," put in
