He could not sleep. The future lowered dark and threatening before him, and day had not brought comfort to his anxious mind. Great drops of sweat stood upon his brow, and his face, never at the best of tunes handsome, to-day was less attractive than ever. "I am so young!" thought he, despondently. "I know of no man at this court, in whose honesty I can confide. Every man of them has curried favor with that shameless woman whose presence has defiled the throne of my ancestors, and disgraced the declining years of my grandfather. To whom shall I turn? Who will give counsel to a poor, inexperienced youth?"
A slight knock was heard at the door. The king rose and opened it.
"Monsieur de Nicolai," said Louis, surprised, as the old man stood. before him with head inclined. "What brings you to me?"
"The will of your deceased father, sire."
The king stepped back and motioned him to enter. "Now speak," said he. "I know that you were with my father on his death-bed; and I have often sought to win your friendship, but until now leave sought in vain."
"Sire, I was afraid that if I betrayed an interest in your majesty, I might not be allowed to live long enough to fulfil the trust confided to me by your father. I had sworn that on the day you ascended the throne of France I would deliver his will to your majesty."
"And you have preserved it? You have brought it to me?"
"Sire, here it is," said the old nobleman, taking from his breast a sealed package, and laying it in the king's hands.
Louis grasped it eagerly, and deeply moved, read the address "Papers to be delivered to whichever one of my sons ascends the throne of France."
"Your majesty sees that I have kept my trust," said De Nicolai.