“He had not waited long when the folding-doors were thrown wide, and a moment after Louis appeared, accompanied by a single attendant, the Marquis de Verneuil, unhappily one of the very few enemies Arnoud possessed in the world.
“'Ah, De Gency! you here?' said the king, gayly. 'They told me “brelan” had been unfavorable lately, and that we should not see you.'
“'It is true, Sire,' said he, with a sad effort at a smile; 'it is only on your Majesty fortune always smiles.'
“'Pardieu! you must not say so; I lost a rouleau last night. But whom have we here?'
“'My son; so please you, Sire, my only son, who desires, at an earlier age than even his father did, to serve your Majesty.'
“'How like his mother!' said the king, pushing back the fair ringlets from the boy's forehead, and gazing almost fondly on his handsome features,—'how like her! She was a Courcelles?'
“'She was, Sire,' said Arnoud, as the tears fell on his cheek and coursed slowly along his face.
“'And you want something for him?' said the king, resuming his wonted tone, while he busied himself with his sword-knot; 'is it not so?'