Gaston perceived his nephew's desire.

"Look, sire," said he, taking a flambeau from the hands of
M. de Saint-Remy, "this is where he fell. There was a bed
there, the curtains of which he tore with catching at them."

"Why does the floor seem hollowed out at this spot?" asked
Louis.

"Because it was here the blood flowed," replied Gaston; "the
blood penetrated deeply into the oak, and it was only by
cutting it out that they succeeded in making it disappear.
And even then," added Gaston, pointing the flambeau to the
spot, "even then this red stain resisted all the attempts
made to destroy it."

Louis XIV. raised his head. Perhaps he was thinking of that
bloody trace that had once been shown him at the Louvre, and
which, as a pendant to that of Blois, had been made there
one day by the king his father with the blood of Concini.

"Let us go on," said he.

The march was resumed promptly, for emotion, no doubt, had
given to the voice of the young prince a tone of command
which was not customary with him. When arrived at the
apartment destined for the king, which communicated not only
with the little passage we have passed through, but further
with the great staircase leading to the court, --