La Valliere held out her small white hand to the musketeer

— Very well, Louise, to prove to you how fondly I love you, I will do one thing, I will see Madame; I will make her revoke her sentence, I will compel her to do so.
— Compel? Oh! no, no.
— True; you are right. I will bend her.
Louise shook her head.
— I will entreat her, if it be necessary, said Louis. Will you believe
in my affection after that?
Louise drew herself up.
— Oh, never, never, shall you humiliate yourself on my account; sooner, a thousand times,
would I die.
Louis reflected, his features assumed a dark expression.
— I will love asmuch as you have loved; I will suffer as keenly as you have suffered; this shall be my expiation in your eyes. Come, mademoiselle, put aside these paltry considerations; let us show ourselves as great as our
sufferings, as strong as our affection for each other.
And, as he said this, he took her in his arms, and encircled her waist with both his
hands, saying,
— My own love! my own dearest and best-beloved, followme.
She made a final effort, in which she concentrated–no longer all her firmness of will, for that had long since been overcome, but all her physical strength.
— No! she replied, weakly, no! no! I should die from shame.
— No! you shall return like a queen. No one knows of your having left–except, indeed, D’Artagnan.
— He has betrayed me, then?
— In what way?
— He promised me faithfully–
— I promised not to say anything to the king, said D’Artagnan, putting in his head through the half-opened door, and I kept my word, I was speaking to M. de Saint-Aignan, and it was not my fault, if the king overheard me; was it, sire?
— It is quite true, said the king, forgive him.
La Valliere smiled, and held out her small white hand to the musketeer.
— Monsieur d’Artagnan, said the king, be good enough to see if you can find a carriage for Mademoiselle de la Valliere.
— Sire, replied the captain, the carriage is waiting at the gate.
— You are the most perfect model of thoughtfulness, exclaimed the king.
— You have taken a long time to find it out, muttered D’Artagnan, notwithstanding he was flattered by the praise bestowed upon him.
La Valliere was overcome: after a little further hesitation, she allowed herself to be led away, half fainting, by her royal lover. But, as she was on the point of leaving the room, she tore herself from the king’s grasp, and returned to the stone crucifix, which she kissed, saying,
— Oh, Heaven! it was thou who drewest me hither! thou, who hast rejected me; but thy grace is infinite. Whenever I shall again return, forget that I have ever separated myself from thee, for, when I return, it will be–never to leave thee again.
The king could not restrain his emotion, and D’Artagnan, even, was overcome. Louis bore the young girl away, lifted her into the carriage, and directed D’Artagnan to seat himself beside her, while he, mounting his horse, spurred violently toward the Palais-Royal, where, immediately on his arrival, he sent to request an audience of Madame.

Extract from The Vicomte de Bragelonne by A. Dumas Père, published in Les Bons Romans, 1862.
Translation taken from the electronic book published by Project Gutenberg.