Which Treats of Carpentry Operations, and Furnishes Details upon the Mode of
Constructing Staircases.
The advice which had been given to Montalais was communicated by her to La
Valliere, who could not but acknowledge that it was by no means deficient in
judgment, and who, after a certain amount of resistance, rising rather from
timidity than indifference to the project, resolved to put it into execution. This
story of the two girls weeping, and filling Madame's bedroom with the noisiest
lamentations, was Malicorne's chef- d'oeuvre. As nothing is so probable as
improbability, so natural as romance, this kind of Arabian Nights story succeeded
perfectly with Madame. The first thing she did was to send Montalais away, and
then, three days, or rather three nights afterwards, she had La Valliere removed.
She gave the latter one of the small rooms on the top story, situated immediately
over the apartments allotted to the gentlemen of Monsieur's suite. One story only,
that is to say, a mere flooring separated the maids of honor from the officers and
gentlemen of her husband's household. A private staircase, which was placed
under Madame de Navailles's surveillance, was the only means of
communication. For greater safety, Madame de Navailles, who had heard of his
majesty's previous attempts, had the windows of the rooms and the openings of
the chimneys carefully barred. There was, therefore, every possible security
provided for Mademoiselle de la Valliere, whose room now bore more
resemblance to a cage than to anything else. When Mademoiselle de la Valliere
was in her own room, and she was there very frequently, for Madame scarcely
ever had any occasion for her services, since she once knew she was safe under
Madame de Navailles's inspection, Mademoiselle de la Valliere had no better
means of amusing herself than looking through the bars of her windows. It
happened, therefore, that one morning, as she was looking out as usual, she
perceived Malicorne at one of the windows exactly opposite to her own. He held
a carpenter's rule in his hand, was surveying the buildings, and seemed to be
adding up some figures on paper. La Valliere recognized Malicorne and nodded
to him; Malicorne, in his turn, replied by a formal bow, and disappeared from the
window. She was surprised at this marked coolness, so different from his usual
unfailing good-humor, but she remembered that he had lost his appointment on
her account, and that he could hardly be very amiably disposed towards her,
since, in all probability, she would never be in a position to make him any
recompense for what he had lost. She knew how to forgive offenses, and with
still more readiness could she sympathize with misfortune. La Valliere would
have asked Montalais her opinion, if she had been within hearing, but she was
absent, it being the hour she commonly devoted to her own correspondence.
Suddenly La Valliere observed something thrown from the window where
Malicorne had been standing, pass across the open space which separated the
iron bars, and roll upon the floor. She advanced with no little curiosity towards
this object, and picked it up; it was a wooden reel for silk, only, in this instance,
