The young girl could not repress a cry of terror.

The king with one hand drew her toward his heart, and stretched the other above her head, as though to shield her from the lightning.

A moment's silence ensued, as the group, delightful as everything young and loving is delightful, remained motionless, while Fouquet and Aramis contemplated it in attitudes as motionless as La Valliere and the king.

"Oh, sire, sire!" murmured La Valliere, "do you hear ?" and her head fell upon his shoulder.
"Yes," said the king.

"You see the storm has not passed away." "It is a warning, sire." The king smiled.