Oliver, who was premier-valet of the chamber as well as barber, and who, in
fact, performed all offices immediately connected with the King's person, and
who now appeared, attended by two old men, who were the only assistants or
waiters at the royal table. So soon as the King had taken his place, the
visitors were admitted; and Quentin, though himself unseen, was so situated as
to remark all the particulars of the interview.
    The King welcomed his visitors with a degree of cordiality, which Quentin
had the utmost difficulty to reconcile with the directions which he had
previously received, and the purpose for which he stood behind the buffet with
his deadly weapon in readiness. Not only did Louis appear totally free from
apprehension of any kind, but one would have supposed that those visitors whom
he had done the high honour to admit to his table, were the very persons in whom
he could most unreservedly confide, and whom he was most willing to honour.
Nothing could be more dignified, and, at the same time, more courteous, than his
demeanour. While all around him, including even his own dress, was far beneath
the splendour which the petty princes of the kingdom displayed in their
festivities, his own language and manners were those of a mighty Sovereign in
his most condescending mood. Quentin was tempted to suppose, either that the
whole of his previous conversation with Louis had been a dream, or that the
dutiful demeanour of the Cardinal, and the frank, open, and gallant bearing of
the Burgundian noble, had entirely erased the King's suspicion.
    But whilst the guests, in obedience to the King, were in the act of placing
themselves at the table, his Majesty darted one keen glance on them, and then
instantly directed his look to Quentin's post. This was done in an instant; but
the glance conveyed so much doubt and hatred towards his guests, such a
peremptory injunction on Quentin to be watchful in attendance, and prompt in
execution, that no room was left for doubting that the sentiments of Louis
continued unaltered, and his apprehensions unabated. He was, therefore, more
than ever astonished at the deep veil under which that Monarch was able to
conceal the movements of his jealous disposition.
    Appearing to have entirely forgotten the language which Crèvecoeur had held
towards him in the face of his Court, the King conversed with him of old times,
of events which had occurred during his own exile in the territories of
Burgundy, and inquired respecting all the nobles with whom he had been then
familiar, as if that period had