The Refugees | Page 5

manner.
"Good-morning, Bontems. How has the king slept?"
"Admirably."
"But it is his time."

"Hardly."
"You will not rouse him yet?"
"In seven and a half minutes." The valet pulled out the little round
watch which gave the law to the man who was the law to twenty
millions of people.
"Who commands at the main guard?"
"Major de Brissac."
"And you will be here?"
"For four hours I attend the king."
"Very good. He gave me some instructions for the officer of the guard,
when he was alone last night after the petit coucher. He bade me to say
that Monsieur de Vivonne was not to be admitted to the grand lever.
You are to tell him so."
"I shall do so."
"Then, should a note come from _her_--you understand me, the new
one--"
"Madame de Maintenon?"
"Precisely. But it is more discreet not to mention names. Should she
send a note, you will take it and deliver it quietly when the king gives
you an opportunity."
"It shall be done."
"But if the other should come, as is possible enough--the other, you
understand me, the former--"
"Madame de Montespan."

"Ah, that soldierly tongue of yours, captain! Should she come, I say,
you will gently bar her way, with courteous words, you understand, but
on no account is she to be permitted to enter the royal room."
"Very good, Bontems."
"And now we have but three minutes."
He strode through the rapidly increasing group of people in the corridor
with an air of proud humility as befitted a man who, if he was a valet,
was at least the king of valets, by being the valet of the king. Close by
the door stood a line of footmen, resplendent in their powdered wigs,
red plush coats, and silver shoulder knots.
"Is the officer of the oven here?" asked Bontems.
"Yes, sir," replied a functionary who bore in front of him an enamelled
tray heaped with pine shavings.
"The opener of the shutters?"
"Here, sir."
"The remover of the taper?"
"Here, sir."
"Be ready for the word." He turned the handle once more, and slipped
into the darkened room.
It was a large square apartment, with two high windows upon the
further side, curtained across with priceless velvet hangings. Through
the chinks the morning sun shot a few little gleams, which widened as
they crossed the room to break in bright blurs of light upon the
primrose-tinted wall. A large arm-chair stood by the side of the
burnt-out fire, shadowed over by the huge marble mantel-piece, the
back of which was carried up twining and curving into a thousand
arabesque and armorial devices until it blended with the richly painted
ceiling. In one corner a narrow couch with a rug thrown across it

showed where the faithful Bontems had spent the night.
In the very centre of the chamber there stood a large four-post bed, with
curtains of Gobelin tapestry looped back from the pillow. A square of
polished rails surrounded it, leaving a space some five feet in width all
round between the enclosure and the bedside. Within this enclosure, or
ruelle, stood a small round table, covered over with a white napkin,
upon which lay a silver platter and an enamelled cup, the one
containing a little Frontiniac wine and water, the other bearing three
slices of the breast of a chicken, in case the king should hunger during
the night.
As Bontems passed noiselessly across the room, his feet sinking into
the moss-like carpet, there was the heavy close smell of sleep in the air,
and he could near the long thin breathing of the sleeper. He passed
through the opening in the rails, and stood, watch in hand, waiting for
the exact instant when the iron routine of the court demanded that the
monarch should be roused. Beneath him, from under the costly green
coverlet of Oriental silk, half buried in the fluffy Valenciennes lace
which edged the pillow, there protruded a round black bristle of
close-cropped hair, with the profile of a curving nose and petulant lip
outlined against the white background. The valet snapped his watch,
and bent over the sleeper.
"I have the honour to inform your Majesty that it is half-past eight,"
said he.
"Ah!" The king slowly opened his large dark-brown eyes, made the
sign of the cross, and kissed a little dark reliquary which he drew from
under his night-dress. Then he sat up in bed, and blinked about him
with the air of a man who is collecting his thoughts.
"Did you give my orders to the officer of the guard, Bontems?" he
asked.
"Yes, sire."
"Who is on duty?"

"Major de Brissac at the main guard, and Captain de Catinat in the
corridor."
"De Catinat! Ah, the young man who stopped my