J:X)UISE DE LA YALLIERE. 423 on the ground and rolled to D'Artagnan's feet. Notwith- standing the perfect mastery which D'Artagnan exercised over himself, he, too, in his turn, became pale, and, trem- bling with indignation, said: "A king may disgrace a soldier — he may exile him, and may even condemn him to death; but were he a hundred times a king, he has no right to insult him by casting dis- honor upon his sword! Sire, a King of France has never repulsed with contempt the sword of such a man as I am! Stained with disgrace as this sword now is, it has hence- forth no other sheath than either your heart or my own! I choose my own, sire; and you have to thank Heaven and my own patience that I do so!" Then snatching up his sword he cried: "My blood be upon your head!" and with a rapid ges- ture, he placed the hilt upon the floor and directed the point of the blade toward his breast. The king, however, with a movement far more rapid than that of D'Artagnan, threw his right arm around the mus- keteer's neck, and with his left hand seized hold of the blade by the middle, and returned it silently to the scab- bard. D'Artagnan, upright, pale, and still trembling, let the king do all to the very end. Louis, overcome, and softened by gentler feelings, returned to the table, took a pen in his hand, wrote a few lines, signed them, and then held it out to D'Artagnan. "What is this paper, sire?" inquired the captain. "An order for Monsieur d'Artagnan to set the Comte de la Fere at liberty immediately." D'Artagnan seized the king's hand, and imprinted a kiss upon it; he then folded the order, placed it in his belt, and quitted the room. Neither the king nor the captain had said a syllable. "Oh, human heart! the guide and director of kings," murmured Louis, when alone, "when shall I learn to read in your inmost recesses, as in the leaves of a book? Oh! 1 am not a bad king — nor am I a poor king; but I am still a child, after all."
