replied Edward: "I should but fare the worse. Your qualities are not unknown in England; and, having said all I can rightly say, I would not willingly try to match my wit against yours."

"I know few who could do it better for your age," said the cardinal, perhaps remembering still with pleasure the youth's praise of his not super-excellent verses. "But now to another theme. Who is the girl that is travelling with you, first as a page, then in the habit of a peasant-girl? Your paramour, I trust, she is not."

The cheek of Edward Langdale glowed like fire. "You wrong us both, even by the thought, lord cardinal," he said, although Richelieu had spoken the last words with a somewhat threatening brow. "You have heard me avow that I have been perhaps guilty of some indiscretion; and I wish to Heaven she had never come with me; but I could not dream of wronging an innocent girl who has trusted entirely to me, and should think my love for her but a poor and false excuse were I to do so even in thought. As to her being with me, your Eminence may surmise many motives; but, believe me, all were honest."

"I am willing to suppose it," answered the cardinal, mildly. "You wish to marry: is it not so?"

Edward bowed his head.

"And you fear there may be difficulties raised by her family?" continued Richelieu, in a tone of inquiry.

"Many," replied the youth.

"Perhaps there is a difference in rank," suggested the cardinal.

"It may be so," answered Edward; "but yet I am a gentleman, and all my friends have been so, as far as we can trace the house."

"Well, we shall hear what she says herself," answered the minister, ringing a small silver bell.

The exempt immediately appeared at the door, and the cardinal bade him call Mademoiselle de Mirepoix from the neighboring room.

It is to be feared that Lucette was not a heroine. Her step was tottering, and her face pale, when, after a pause of one or two minutes, she entered the cardinal's presence. But the dress she now wore, rich and in very good taste, not only displayed the young beauties of her face and form, but made her look several years older than she really was. Edward, conscious of what she must feel, bent his eyes to the ground for an instant as she entered, but the next moment, with a sudden impulse, advanced, and, taking her hand, led her toward the minister.

Richelieu was evidently struck with her appearance: it was something very different from what he had expected to see, and the disappointment was a pleasant one. With dignified politeness he rose to meet her, and led her himself to a seat, saying, "I am glad to see you, mademoiselle.

I trust you rested well last night?"

Lucette raised her eyes with a look of surprise at the unexpected kindness of his tone, and a warm blush pa.s.sed over her cheek, while she replied, "I did not sleep at all, my lord: I was too much frightened."

"Nay, be not frightened here, my child," replied Richelieu, in a fatherly tone. "I must ask you a few questions, to which you must give me sincere answers; but it will soon be over. To the bold and daring, men in my position must be stern and harsh; but the timid and submissive will only meet kindness and protection. First, then, tell me, what is your name?"

"Lucette de Mirepoix," answered the beautiful young girl, in a low voice.

"De Mirepoix du Valais?" inquired the minister.

"The same," said Lucette, looking up again with some surprise.

"Now let me hear if you have ever been in England," said Richelieu, fixing his dark eyes upon her.

"Yes," answered Lucette, at once. "I have been in England for several years."

"Do you know why you were sent there?" asked the cardinal. "Surely this is a richer and more beautiful land than that cold, foggy island."

"Oh, no!" cried Lucette, eagerly. "It is true, I know nothing of the land of France except about Roch.e.l.le; but nothing can be more beautiful than England."

"And you would gladly marry an Englishman?" said Richelieu, with a smile. Lucette blushed deeply, but answered nothing, and the cardinal went on:--"You have not yet told me why you were sent to England."

"I do not personally know," answered Lucette; "but I have heard that a lady--I think, called Madame de Luynes--claimed me as my nearest relation, and that my other friends did not choose to give me up to her, which the law might have forced them to do if she could have found me in France."

Richelieu smiled. "That is a mistake," he said. "We would have found means to frustrate such an attempt. Do you know if she still persists in her purpose?"

"Oh, yes," answered Lucette, quickly: "at least, so I have been told.

They said that she had power enough in England, through the Duke of Buckingham, to have me given up to her, even there. That was one reason why I returned to France."

"And not to wed this young gentleman?" said the cardinal.

Lucette blushed again, and was silent.

"But you love him, and are willing to wed him?" continued Richelieu, seeming to take a pleasure in the rosy embarra.s.sment his questions produced.

Poor Lucette! It was indeed a painful moment for her; but she felt that her own fate, and that of Edward also, depended upon her words, and, with her eyes bent down, and her face all in a glow, she answered, in a low but firm tone, "Yes." Then, springing up as if she could bear the torturing interrogation no longer, she darted across, cast herself upon Edward's bosom, and wept.

"Answer enough, methinks," said Richelieu, speaking to himself. "And now, daughter," he continued, gravely, "only two more questions, and I have done. But your answers must be frank and open. Did your good friends in La Roch.e.l.le know and consent to your travelling alone with this young gentleman disguised as a page?"

"Oh, yes!" sobbed the poor girl: "they themselves proposed it. They knew they could trust to his honor, and so could I. But we were not alone; we had servants with us; and--and--"

"Enough," said Richelieu. "Monsieur de Soubise, you are a confident man."

These words might have shown Lucette that she and the cardinal had been playing in some sort at cross-purposes; but they were spoken in a low tone, and in her agitation she did not hear or take notice of them.

"Now for the last question," said Richelieu: "but you must first resume your seat;" and, taking her hand, he led her back to her chair. "Tell me,--and tell me true, my child: have you ever heard that young gentleman standing opposite to you called by any other name than Sir Peter Apsley?"

It was a terrible blow to poor Lucette. She had been educated in truth and honor; a lie was abhorrent to all her previous feelings and thoughts; and yet, if she told the truth, she knew or believed that she was condemning one whom she now felt she loved more than any one on earth, to an ignominious death. She turned deadly pale, and raised her eyes to Edward's face, as if seeking counsel or help.

Edward gave the help without a moment's hesitation. Stepping quickly forward so as to stand immediately before the prelate's chair, he said, "Ask her not that question, my lord cardinal. Neither make those sweet honest lips utter a word of falsehood, nor force them to betray a secret she thinks herself bound to keep. I will answer for her. She _has_ heard me called by another name; but I could not have come into this country without obtaining the pa.s.sport of Sir Peter Apsley,--a young man of my own age and height,--who had given up the intention of visiting France.

My name is Edward Langdale, son of Sir Richard Langdale, of Buckley, of as good and old a family as his whose name I took."

Richelieu gazed at him coldly, without the least mark of surprise. "You have tried to deceive me," he said; "but you could not. It was a dangerous experiment, sir. And, now, what have you to say why the fate you have sought should not fall upon your head?"

"Not much, your Eminence," replied Edward; "and all I have to say is written here." And, as he spoke, he stretched forth his hand and took the verses he had before read from the small table at the cardinal's right hand, and repeated the first stanza:--

"'Who on the height of power would stand must be Hard as a rock to those who dare his arm; To the indifferent, cool; and tenderly Treat the young faults of those who mean no harm.'

"That is all I can plead in favor of forgiveness."

"And you have fairly won it," said Richelieu, gravely; "but it shall come in such a shape as perhaps you do not expect."

The words were ambiguous, and the cardinal's look was so cold that Lucette's heart fell. She hesitated a moment, and then cast herself at Richelieu's feet, murmuring, "Oh, spare him, my lord! spare him! He has told you the whole truth now."

"Whatever becomes of me," exclaimed Edward, "for G.o.d's sake, give not up this dear girl to Madame de Chevreuse."

He had touched the key-note; but it only served to confirm a half-formed purpose in the great minister's mind. A smile spread over his face, which was then eminently handsome, and, first turning to Lucette, he said, "He has told me the whole truth, has he? Still, he will be all the better of a safe-conduct in his own name. Shall I put in the page and all, young gentleman?" Then, ringing the silver bell again, he ordered the exempt, who had still waited without, to carry the pa.s.sport of Sir Peter Apsley to one of his secretaries and bid him make a copy, subst.i.tuting the name of Edward Langdale for Peter Apsley. "And hark,"

he continued; "bend down your ear."

The man obeyed. Richelieu whispered to him for a moment or two, and the exempt retired, closing the door.

Still, Edward Langdale did not feel altogether at ease as to the fate of Lucette. The smile upon the cardinal's lip when he proposed to "put in the page and all" evidently marked the words as a jest; and Richelieu now sat silent for several minutes, gazing upon the ground, as if still somewhat undecided.

At length he looked up. "Monsieur de Langdale," he said, pointing to the leathern case, "that belongs to you. It shall be sent to your room. In it you will find nine hundred and eighty crowns of gold, all told.

Moreover, you can take the letters: I trust to your honor as a gentleman not to use them against the king's service. Your safe-conduct will be here in a few minutes; but, before I sign it, I will put the sincerity of yourself and this young lady to one more test."