"It seems the king will not consent to the marriage."
"Eh! Why the king? and what has the king to do with it?" exclaimed Aure sharply. "Good gracious! has the king the right to interfere in matters of that kind? Politics are politics, as Monsieur de Mazarin used to say; but love is love. If, therefore, you love Monsieur de Bragelonne, marry him; I give my consent."
Athenais began to laugh.
"Oh! I speak seriously," replied Montalais, "and my opinion in this case is quite as good as the king's, I suppose; is it not, Louise?"
"Come," said La Valliere, "these gentlemen have passed; let us take advantage of our being alone to cross the open ground, and so take refuge in the woods."
"So much the better," said Athenais, "because I see the torches setting out from the chateau and the theater, which seem as if they were preceding some person of distinction."
"Let us run, then," said all three.
And, gracefully lifting up the long skirts of their silk dresses, they lightly ran across the open space between the lake and the thickest covert of the park. Montalais agile as a deer, Athenais eager as a young wolf, bounded through the dry grass, and, now and then, some bold Acteon might, by the aid of the faint light, have perceived their straight and well-formed limbs somewhat displayed beneath the heavy folds of their satin petticoats. La Valliere, more refined and less bashful, allowed her dress to flow around her; retarded also by the lameness of her foot, it was not long before she called out to her companions to halt, and, left behind, she obliged them both to wait for her. At this moment a man, concealed in a dry ditch full of young willow saplings, scrambled quickly up its shelving side, and ran off in the direction of the château. The three young girls, on their side, reached the outskirts of the park, every path of which they well knew. The ditches were bordered by high hedges full of flowers, which on that side protected the foot-passengers from being intruded upon by the horses and carriages. In fact, the sound of madame's and of the queen's carriages could be heard in the distance upon the hard, dry ground of the roads, followed by the mounted cavaliers. Distant music was heard in response, and when the soft notes died away the nightingale, with his song full of pride, poured forth his melodious chants, and his most complicated, learned, and sweetest compositions, to those who he perceived had met beneath the thick covert of the woods.
