No voice replying, the man picked up the candle and went on tiptoe to light it at the night-lamp.
Then it was that Gilbert’s attention was so concentrated on this strange night visitor that his eyes would have pierced a wall.
Suddenly he started and drew back a step although he was in concealment.
By the light of the two flames he had recognized in the man holding the candle—the King! All was clear to him: the flight of Nicole, the money counted down between her and Beausire, and all the dark plot of Richelieu and Taverney of which Andrea was the object.
He understood why the King should call upon Nicole, the complaisant female Judas who had sold her mistress.
At the thought of what the royal villain had come to commit in this room, the blood rushing to the young man’s head blinded him.
He meant to call out; but the reflection that this was the Lord’s anointed, the being still full of awe as the King of France—that froze the tongue of Gilbert to his mouth-roof.
Meanwhile, Louis XV. entered the room once more, bearing the light. He perceived Andrea, in the white muslin wrapper, with her head thrown back on the sofa pillow, with one foot on another cushion and the other, cold and stiff, out of the slipper, on the carpet.
At this sight the King smiled. The candle lit up this evil smile; but almost instantly a smile as sinister lighted up Andrea’s face.
Louis uttered some words, probably of love; and placing the light on the table, he cast a glance out at the enflamed sky, before kneeling to the girl, whose hand he kissed.