“And who is this cavalier, Henrietta?” asked the queen.
“I saw him from the window, madame; he is a young man that appears scarce sixteen years of age, and is called the Viscount de Bragelonne.”
The queen, smiling, made a sign with her head; the young princess opened the door and Raoul appeared on the threshold.
Advancing a few steps toward the queen, he knelt down.
“Madame,” said he, “I bear to your majesty a letter from my friend the Count de Guiche, who told me he had the honor of being your servant; this letter contains important news and the expression of his respect.”
At the name of the Count de Guiche a blush spread over the cheeks of the young princess and the queen glanced at her with some degree of severity.
“You told me that the letter was from the Marechal de Grammont, Henrietta!” said the queen.
“I thought so, madame,” stammered the young girl.
“It is my fault, madame,” said Raoul. “I did announce myself, in truth, as coming on the part of the Marechal de Grammont; but being wounded in the right arm he was unable to write and therefore the Count de Guiche acted as his secretary.”
“There has been fighting, then?” asked the queen, motioning to Raoul to rise.