"Sire, I will not sleep. Rather may I crave to be allowed to keep guard in the antechamber."
"Nay! nay! Sleep. Rest is needful to all. Extinguish all light, except the night-lamp. Good-night, De la Ruffardière."
"Good-night, your Majesty. God bless your Majesty and grant you a peaceful night's rest."
"Amen," the King said, sighing deeply.
When, however, the guard was being changed in front of the château, and the exchange of sign and countersign could be plainly heard by the Marquis who was lying wide awake on the lounge at the foot of the great ruelle of the King's bed, Louis spoke and called him by name.
"Here, sire," the other said, springing off the couch. "How fares it with your Majesty?"
"Sad at heart. Sad. Sad. De la Ruffardière, tell me frankly; here to-night and alone as we are--tell me as man to man--what is the character I bear with my people? Do they deem me a cruel ruler?"
"Ah, sire! The noblest King who has ever adorned a throne. Bountiful, magnanimous----"
"What," the king continued, scarcely pausing to hear the answer he knew must come from a courtier, "what is thought of De Beaurepaire's punishment? Am I deemed implacable?"
"Sire," the other said, hardly daring to answer him, yet forcing himself to do so, "if he should go free what shall be the reward of those who have never wavered in their loyalty to, and love of, your Majesty?"