“Nonsense; call him,” said Charles II., knitting his black brows together; “every one seems to be sentimental here. There, look at Miss Stewart, who is wiping her eyes,—now deuce take the French fellow!”
The duke called to Raoul, and taking Miss Grafton by the hand, he led her towards the king.
“Monsieur de Bragelonne,” said Charles II., “did you not ask me the day before yesterday for permission to return to Paris?”
“Yes, sire,” replied Raoul, greatly puzzled by this address.
“And I refused you, I think?”
“Yes, sire.”
“For which you were angry with me?”
“No, sire; your majesty had no doubt excellent reasons for withholding it; for you are so wise and so good that everything you do is well done.”
“I alleged, I believe, as a reason, that the king of France had not recalled you?”
“Yes, sire, that was the reason you assigned.”