“Bragelonne, who was affianced to—”
“Yes, sire.”
“But—he has been in London.”
“Yes; but I can assure you, sire, he is there no longer.”
“Is he in Paris, then?”
“He is at Minimes, sire, where he is waiting for me, as I have already had the honor of telling you.”
“Does he know all?”
“Yes; and many things besides. Perhaps your majesty would like to look at the letter I have received from him;” and Saint-Aignan drew from his pocket the note we are already acquainted with. “When your majesty has read the letter, I will tell you how it reached me.”
The king read it in a great agitation, and immediately said, “Well?”
“Well, sire; your majesty knows a certain carved lock, closing a certain door of carved ebony, which separates a certain apartment from a certain blue and white sanctuary?”