He has M.d'Artagnan, and what better guardian could the king have than M.d'Artagnan?
I should make myself perfectly easy with twenty storms of passion, such as Bragelonne might display, if I had four guardians like D'Artagnan." "But I entreat your majesty, who is so good and kind, to reflect a little." "Stay," said Charles II., presenting the letter to the duke, "read, and answer yourself what you would do in my place." Buckingham slowly took hold of Madame's letter, and trembling with emotion, read the following words: "For your own sake, for mine, for the honor and safety of every one, send M.de Bragelonne back to France immediately.

Your devoted sister, HENRIETTA." "Well, Villiers, what do you say ?" "Really, sire, I have nothing to say," replied the duke, stupefied.
"Nay, would you, of all persons," said the king, artfully, "advise me not to listen to my sister when she writes so urgently ?" "Oh, no, no, sire; and yet--" "You have not read the postscript, Villiers; it is under the fold of the letter, and escaped me at first; read it." And as the duke turned down a fold of the letter, he read: "A thousand kind remembrances to those who love me." The duke's head sank gradually on his breast; the paper trembled in his fingers, as if it had been changed to lead.

The king paused for a moment, and, seeing that Buckingham did not speak, "He must follow his destiny, as we ours," continued the king; "every man has his own share of grief in this world; I have had my own,--I have had that of others who belong to me,--and have thus had a double weight of woe to endure!--But the deuce take all my cares now! Go, and bring our friend here, Villiers." The duke opened the trellised door of the summer-house, and pointing at Raoul and Mary, who were walking together side by side, said, "What a cruel blow, sire, for poor Miss Grafton!" "Nonsense; call him," said Charles II., knitting his black brows together; "every one seems to be sentimental here.

There, look at Miss Stewart, who is wiping her eyes,--now deuce take the French fellow!" The duke called to Raoul, and taking Miss Grafton by the hand, he led her towards the king.
"Monsieur de Bragelonne," said Charles II., "did you not ask me the day before yesterday for permission to return to Paris ?" "Yes, sire," replied Raoul, greatly puzzled by this address.
"And I refused you, I think ?" "Yes, sire." "For which you were angry with me ?" "No, sire; your majesty had no doubt excellent reasons for withholding it; for you are so wise and so good that everything you do is well done." "I alleged, I believe, as a reason, that the king of France had not recalled you ?" "Yes, sire, that was the reason you assigned." "Well, M.de Bragelonne, I have reflected over the matter since; if the king did not, in fact, fix your return, he begged me to render your sojourn in England as agreeable as possible; since, however, you ask my permission to return, it is because your longer residence in England is no longer agreeable to you." "I do not say that, sire." "No, but your request, at least," said the king, "signified that another place of residence would be more agreeable to you than this." At this moment Raoul turned towards the door, against which Miss Grafton was leaning, pale and sorrow-stricken; her other hand was passed through the duke's arm.
"You do not reply," pursued Charles; "the proverb is plain enough, that 'silence gives consent.' Very good, Monsieur de Bragelonne; I am now in a position to satisfy you; whenever you please, therefore, you can leave for Paris, for which you have my authority." "Sire!" exclaimed Raoul, while Mary stifled an exclamation of grief which rose to her lips, unconsciously pressing Buckingham's arm.
"You can be at Dover this evening," continued the king, "the tide serves at two o'clock in the morning." Raoul, astounded, stammered out a few broken sentences, which equally answered the purpose both of thanks and of excuse.
"I therefore bid you adieu, Monsieur de Bragelonne, and wish you every sort of prosperity," said the king, rising; "you will confer a pleasure on me by keeping this diamond in remembrance of me; I had intended it as a marriage gift." Miss Grafton felt her limbs almost giving way; and, as Raoul received the ring from the king's hand, he, too, felt his strength and courage failing him.

He addressed a few respectful words to the king, a passing compliment to Miss Stewart, and looked for Buckingham to bid him adieu.
The king profited by this moment to disappear.