The two princes, both pale as death--for we renounce the hope of being able to describe the fearful state of Philippe--trembling, clenching their hands convulsively, measured each other with looks, and darted their glances, sharp as poniards, at each other.

Silent, panting, bending forward, they appeared as if about to spring upon an enemy.

The unheard-of resemblance of countenance, gesture, shape, height, even to the resemblance of costume, produced by chance--for Louis XIV.

had been to the Louvre and put on a violet-colored dress--the perfect analogy of the two princes, completed the consternation of Anne of Austria.

And yet she did not at once guess the truth.