The air was strangely soft and balmy; the daintily shell-gravelled walks through the thickly set avenues yielded luxuriously to the feet.

The _fete_ was complete in every respect, for the king, having met La Valliere in one of the winding paths of the wood, was able to press her hand and say, "I love you," without any one overhearing him except M.d'Artagnan, who followed, and M.Fouquet, who preceded him.
The dreamy night of magical enchantments stole smoothly on.

The king having requested to be shown to his room, there was immediately a movement in every direction.

The queens passed to their own apartments, accompanied by them music of theorbos and lutes; the king found his musketeers awaiting him on the grand flight of steps, for M.Fouquet had brought them on from Melun and had invited them to supper.

D'Artagnan's suspicions at once disappeared.