“Not a king, Sire, but an emperor,—­the Emperor of Constantinople and Trebizond, accompanied by the Prince Imperial, his son.  You shall see two Greek profiles of the best sort, two finely cut noses, albeit hooked, and almond-shaped eyes, like those of Achilles and Agamemnon.”

Then the King said, “Send for your groom of the chambers at once, and tell him to give orders that my incognito be strictly observed.  You must introduce me to these dignitaries as your brother, M. de Vivonne.  Under these conditions, I will join your party at table; otherwise, I should be obliged to leave the castle immediately.”

The King’s wishes were promptly complied with; the footmen were let into the secret, and I introduced “Monsieur de Vivonne” to my guests.

The talk, without being sparkling, was pleasant enough until dessert.  When the men-servants left us, it assumed a very different character.  The King induced the Chancellor to converse, and asked him if his exile were owing to the English monarch personally, or to some parliamentary intrigue.

“King Charles,” replied his lordship, “is a prince to gauge whose character requires long study.  Apparently, he is the very soul of candour, but no one is more deceitful than he.  He fawns and smiles upon you when in his heart of hearts he despises and loathe you.  When the Duke of York, unfortunately, became violently enamoured of my daughter, he did not conceal his attachment from his brother, the King, and at last asked for his approval to join his fortunes to my daughter’s, when the King, without offering opposition, contented himself by pointing out the relative distance between their rank and position; to which the Duke replied, ’But at one time you did everything you possibly could to get Olympia Mancini, who was merely Mazarin’s niece!’ And King Charles, who could not deny this, left his brother complete liberty of action.

“As my daughter was far dearer and more precious to me than social grandeur, I begged the Duke of York to find for himself a partner of exalted rank.  He gave way to despair, and spoke of putting an end to his existence; in fact, he behaved as all lovers do whom passion touches to madness; so this baleful marriage took place.  God is my witness that I opposed it, urged thereto by wisdom, by modesty, and by foresight.  Now, as you see, from that cruel moment I have been exiled to alien lands, robbed of the sight of my beloved child, who has been raised to the rank of a princess, and whom I shall never see again.  Why did my sovereign not say to me frankly, I do not like this marriage; you must oppose it, Chancellor, to please me?

“How different was his conduct from that of his cousin, the French King!  Mademoiselle d’Orleans wanted to make an unsuitable match; the King opposed it, as he had a right to do, and the marriage did not take place.”

My “brother,” the King, smiled as he told his lordship he was right.