"Of course; Louise's boudoir."
"Yes, sire. Well, it was in the keyhole of that lock that I found that note."
"Who placed it there?"
"Either M. de Bragelonne, or the devil himself; but, inasmuch as the note smells of amber and not of sulphur, I conclude that it must be, not the devil, but M. de Bragelonne."
Louis bent down his head, and seemed absorbed in sad and melancholy reflections. Perhaps something like remorse was at that moment passing through his heart. "The secret is discovered," he said.
"Sire, I shall do my utmost, that the secret dies in the breast of the man who possesses it," said Saint-Aignan, in a tone of bravado, as he moved toward the door; but a gesture of the king made him pause.
"Where are you going?" he inquired.
"Where I am waited for, sire."
"What for?"
"To fight, in all probability."