"Then," said Aramis, "you know that the last reigning monarch was Louis XIII.?"
"I do," answered the youth, slightly reddening.
"Well, he was a prince full of noble ideas and great projects, always, alas! deferred by the troubles of the times and the struggle that his minister Richelieu had to maintain against the great nobles of France. The king himself was of a feeble character; and died young and unhappy."
"I know it."
"He had been long anxious about having an heir; a care which weighs heavily on princes, who desire to leave behind them more than one pledge that their thoughts and their works will be continued."
"Did the king, then, die childless?" asked the prisoner, smiling.
"No, but he was long without one, and for a long while thought he should be the last of his race. This idea had reduced him to the depths of despair, when suddenly, his wife, Anne of Austria—"
The prisoner trembled.
"Did you know," said Aramis, "that Louis XIII.'s wife was called Anne of Austria?"
"Continue," said the young man, without replying to the question.