“How is that?”
“Yes, yes, your majesty is bound not to grant hospitality to King Charles, and to compel him to leave France even. It was on this account we forced him to quit you, and yet here he is again. Sire, I hope you will give your brother to understand that he cannot remain with us; that it is impossible he should be allowed to compromise us, or I myself——”
“Enough, my lord,” said Louis XIV, rising. “In refusing me a million, perhaps you may be right; your millions are your own. In refusing me two hundred gentlemen, you are still further in the right; for you are prime minister, and you have, in the eyes of France, the responsibility of peace and war. But that you should pretend to prevent me, who am king, from extending my hospitality to the grandson of Henry IV., to my cousin-german, to the companion of my childhood—there your power stops, and there begins my will.”
“Sire,” said Mazarin, delighted at being let off so cheaply, and who had, besides, only fought so earnestly to arrive at that,—“sire, I shall always bend before the will of my king. Let my king, then, keep near him, or in one of his chateaux, the king of England; let Mazarin know it, but let not the minister know it.”
“Good-night, my lord,” said Louis XIV., “I go away in despair.”
“But convinced, and that is all I desire, sire,” replied Mazarin.
The king made no answer, and retired quite pensive, convinced, not of all Mazarin had told him, but of one thing which he took care not to mention to him; and that was, that it was necessary for him to study seriously both his own affairs and those of Europe, for he found them very difficult and very obscure. Louis found the king of England seated in the same place where he had left him. On perceiving him, the English prince arose; but at the first glance he saw discouragement written in dark letters upon his cousin’s brow. Then, speaking first, as if to facilitate the painful avowal that Louis had to make to him,—
“Whatever it may be,” said he, “I shall never forget all the kindness, all the friendship you have exhibited towards me.”
“Alas!” replied Louis, in a melancholy tone, “only barren good-will, my brother.”
Charles II. became extremely pale; he passed his cold hand over his brow, and struggled for a few instants against a faintness that made him tremble. “I understand,” said he at last; “no more hope!”