cavalier rode, the soldier returned.

"Your pardon, young gentleman; but your name, if you
please?"

"The Vicomte de Bragelonne, on the part of his highness M.
le Prince de Conde."

The soldier made a profound bow, and, as if the name of the
conqueror of Rocroy and Sens had given him wings, he stepped
lightly up the steps leading to the ante-chamber.

M. de Bragelonne had not had time to fasten his horse to the
iron bars of the perron, when M. de Saint-Remy came running,
out of breath, supporting his capacious body with one hand,
whilst with the other he cut the air as a fisherman cleaves
the waves with his oar.

"Ah, Monsieur le Vicomte! You at Blois!" cried he. "Well,
that is a wonder. Good-day to you -- good-day, Monsieur
Raoul."

"I offer you a thousand respects, M. de Saint-Remy."

"How Madame de la Vall -- I mean, how delighted Madame de
Saint-Remy will be to see you! But come in. His royal
highness is at breakfast -- must he be interrupted? Is the
matter serious?"

"Yes, and no, Monsieur de Saint-Remy. A moment's delay,