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 "It is he! I am sure it is he!" Entirely engaged with Alice, the King had not before perceived the entrance of the young lords; but the strange agitation of Alice, and the words—"It is he!" which she repeated with redoubled emotion, having made him cast his eyes towards the place where her's were stedfastly fixed. He appeared, in his turn, struck with the greatest astonishment, and turning to Alice, he said, with a severe and enquiring look—"What is the cause of the extraordinary agitation which the unexpected arrival of the Count de Nevers and the Seur de Joinville has caused in you?"—"Which of the two is the Count de Nevers?" said Alice, in a trembling voice. The prince looked attentively at her without answering. "Speak," resumed she, "answer me—my life depends upon it—tell me which is he?" Charles told her, that he whom the Regent held by the arm was the Count de Nevers.

Scarcely had he said this, when a deadly paleness overspread her face, and not a trace was left of the brilliant colour that had animated her countenance. "Unfortunate," said she, with an accent of horror, "wretched girl, is it then true—can it be the Count de Nevers?" The King, astonished, eagerly asked her to inform him of the cause of her agitation. Alice, without speaking, put on her mask, went to her uncle, and said she wished to leave the ball. The questions of Marcel were as unsuccessful as the King of Navarre’s. Alice went to the door of the palace, and her uncle conducted her home, without having obtained any reason why she left, so abruptly, a place where she experienced such flattering approbation, and received pleasure.

Struck with astonishment, and burning with love and jealousy, the first care of the King of