“I trust that it may prove so, madame.”

“But such dreams are not very fortunate to the dreamer.  Go, tell the king that I am here, and would have a word with him.”

“Impossible, madame.”

“And why?”

“I have been forbidden to carry a message.”

“To carry any message?”

“Any from you, madame.”

“Come, captain, you improve.  It only needed this insult to make the thing complete.  You may carry a message to the king from any adventuress, from any decayed governess”—­she laughed shrilly at her description of her rival—­“but none from Francoise de Mortemart, Marquise de Montespan?”

“Such are my orders, madame.  It pains me deeply to be compelled to carry them out.”

“You may spare your protestations, captain.  You may yet find that you have every reason to be deeply pained.  For the last time, do you refuse to carry my message to the king?”

“I must, madame.”

“Then I carry it myself.”

She sprang forward at the door, but he slipped in front of her with outstretched arms.

“For God’s sake, consider yourself, madame!” he entreated.  “Other eyes are upon you.”

“Pah!  Canaille!” She glanced at the knot of Switzers, whose sergeant had drawn them off a few paces, and who stood open-eyed, staring at the scene.

“I tell you that I will see the king.”

“No lady has ever been at the morning lever.”

“Then I shall be the first.”

“You will ruin me if you pass.”

“And none the less, I shall do so.”

The matter looked serious.  De Catinat was a man of resource, but for once he was at his wits’ end.  Madame de Montespan’s resolution, as it was called in her presence, or effrontery, as it was termed behind her back, was proverbial.  If she attempted to force her way, would he venture to use violence upon one who only yesterday had held the fortunes of the whole court in the hollow of her hand, and who, with her beauty, her wit, and her energy, might very well be in the same position to-morrow?  If she passed him, then his future was ruined with the king, who never brooked the smallest deviation from his orders.  On the other hand, if he thrust her back, he did that which could never be forgiven, and which would entail some deadly vengeance should she return to power.  It was an unpleasant dilemma.  But a happy thought flashed into his mind at the very moment when she, with clenched hand and flashing eyes, was on the point of making a fresh attempt to pass him.

“If madame would deign to wait,” said he soothingly, “the king will be on his way to the chapel in an instant.”

“It is not yet time.”

“I think the hour has just gone.”

“And why should I wait, like a lackey?”

“It is but a moment, madame.”

“No, I shall not wait.”  She took a step forward towards the door.