“No! you shall return like a queen. No one knows of your having left—except, indeed, D’Artagnan.”
“He has betrayed me, then?”
“In what way?”
“He promised faithfully—”
“I promised not to say anything to the king,” said D’Artagnan, putting his head through the half-opened door, “and I kept my word; I was speaking to M. de Saint-Aignan, and it was not my fault if the king overheard me; was it, sire?”
“It is quite true,” said the king; “forgive him.”
La Valliere smiled, and held out her small white hand to the musketeer.
“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” said the king, “be good enough to see if you can find a carriage for Mademoiselle de la Valliere.”
“Sire,” said the captain, “the carriage is waiting at the gate.”
“You are a magic mould of forethought,” exclaimed the king.