TEN YEARS LATER. 473 Oh^ sire!" said La Valliere, gently putting the king aside, who had approached nearer to her, ^'1 think the storm has passed away now, and the rain lias ceased." At the very moment, however, as the poor girl, fleeing, as it were, from her own heart, which doubtlessly throbbed too much in unison with the king's, uttered these words, the storm undertook to contradict her. A bluish flash of light- ning illumined the forest with a wild, weird-like glare, and a peal of thunder, like a discharge of artillery, burst over their very heads, as if the height of the oak which sheltered them had attracted the storm. The young girl could not repress a cry of terror. The king with one hand drew her toward his heart, and stretched the other above her head, as though to shield her from the lightning. A moment's silence ensued, as the group, delightful as everything young and loving is delightful, remained motionless, while Fou- quet and Aramis contemplated it in attitudes as motionless as La Valliere and the king. *'01i, sire, sire!" murmured La Valliere, "do you hear?" and her head fell upon his shoulder. "Yes," said the king. "You see, the storm has not passed away." "It is a warning, sire." The king smiled. "Sire, it is the voice of Heaven in anger." "Be it so," said the king. "I agree to accept that peal of thunder as a warning, and even as a menace, if, in five minutes from the present moment, it is renewed with equal violence; but if not, permit me to think that the storm is a storm simply, and nothing more." And the king, at the same moment, raised his head, as if to interrogate the heavens. But, as if the remark had been heard and ac- cepted, during the five minutes which elapsed after the burst of thunder which had alarmed them, no renewed peal was heard; and when the thunder was again heard, it was passing away in so audible a manner, as if, during those same live minutes, the storm, put to flight, had traversed the heavens with the speed of the wings of the wind. "Well, Louise," said the king, in a low tone of voice, "will you still threaten me with the anger of Heaven; and, since you wished to regard the storm as a presentiment, will you still believe that presentiment to be one of misfortune?" The young girl looked up, and saw that while they had been talking the rain had penetrated the foliage above them and was trickling down the king's face. "Oh, sire, sire!" she exclaimed, in accents of eager apprehension which
