What took place at the cardinal's palace--a smaller building than the magnificent edifice he afterward erected, long known first as the Palais Cardinal and afterward as the Palais Royal--I do not know; but at the end of an hour and a half the man returned, and, with a happy grin, demanded his gold crown, handing Edward a sealed paper. The contents were as follows:--

"I am commanded by his Eminence to inform Monsieur de Langdale that, though he cannot give him a formal audience, he will see him to-night at the theatre of the Hotel de Bourgogne, when he will hear whatever he has to communicate. This letter presented at the door will be his introduction.

"ROSSIGNOL."

Edward Langdale took care to obtain every information he could from the landlord in regard to the Parisian theatre, which was at that time just beginning to rise into some degree of importance. Some years before, the theatres of Paris were merely the resort of bad women and dissolute men and the scene of very bad actors; but Richelieu, with that fine taste which was one of his remarkable characteristics, had not only seen that the stage might easily be refined, but had absolutely refined it.

Excellent actors were engaged at both the great theatres of Paris; authors, not alone of merit, but of real genius, pressed forward in a new career of literature; and the highest and purest ladies of the French court graced the theatre, perhaps as much to please and flatter the great minister as for any entertainment they received.

At the hour which had been indicated by the landlord Edward was at the door of the Hotel de Bourgogne; and as he saw that everybody was paying for entrance he did the same, and then exhibited the letter of the secretary Rossignol. The moment it was seen by the people at the door the effect was magical. Two men started forward, bowing to the ground, reproached the young stranger in somewhat stilted terms for not showing the note before he had paid for admission, and begged to lead him to the cardinal, who they informed him had just entered. The arrangement of a theatre in those days was very different from that of modern times; but yet Richelieu had his little room, or box, as we should call it now, at the Hotel de Bourgogne, close to the stage, but not upon it. Into this room no one was admitted but those specially invited, and at the door stood two of his guards, who, however, gave instant ingress to Edward as soon as they saw the letter he carried in his hand. In the box were some eight or nine people, with the cardinal himself on the left-hand side, where he had a full view of the stage but could hardly be seen from the body of the house. The play had not commenced, and he turned his head at the sound of the door as Edward entered. The moment he saw him he beckoned him up to his side, before Edward had seen the other persons in the box, who, be it remarked, were all standing. Richelieu's first question was what had brought his young friend--as he was pleased to call him--to Paris before the stipulated time. Edward, in his usual brief style, explained all the circ.u.mstances, and, without hesitation, placed the two letters he had received in the minister's hands.

Richelieu read them and smiled, saying, "So you are both still very much in love with each other? Well, I have done one good work at least in life _pour l'amour de Dieu_. Now, what do you intend to do, Monsieur Langdale?"

"To go post-haste to Venice, may it please your Eminence," replied Edward; "and when I arrive there, as it will not want much more than six weeks of the time I promised you not to seek her as my wife, I intend to ask you to free me from that promise, let me claim her as my own, and trust to my good luck and your power to sustain me."

The cardinal seemed half inclined to laugh. "Take her when you can get her," he said, with something more than a smile. "But you cannot get to Venice, my good boy, till the king opens the pa.s.s of Suza. Don't you know that the very impracticable Duke of Savoy holds all the pa.s.ses closed and thinks he can resist the power of France?"

"By the Lord! I wish I had the power of France," said Edward: "I would soon make him open them."

"Ha, ha!" said Richelieu, with a significant nod of the head. "Did I not tell you that one day you would become ambitious? But the power of France is just as well as it is; and I think the king can open the pa.s.ses as well as you could. He has gone there now, and I am going after him to witness his victory. But hush! they are going to begin the play.

Mark it well, and tell me what you think of it."

Almost as he spoke the comedy commenced, and Edward withdrew from Richelieu's side into the little crowd behind. It was a piece of no great merit,--one of the failures of the great Corneille; and, to say the truth, Edward's thoughts were deeply engaged with other things.

While he was trying to attend, however, his hand was gently pressed by some one near, and, turning round, he beheld the diminutive figure of Morini the Italian adventurer.

There was something in the man that Edward could not altogether dislike, especially after the kindness he had shown him on two or three occasions, and he shook hands with him warmly. The little man stood on tiptoes, and said, in a whisper, "Good fortune to you. You and the cardinal will always have good fortune unless you quarrel. Look just opposite. Did you ever see so beautiful a creature?"

Edward cast his eyes across the theatre, which was not very well lighted, and saw a group of ladies splendidly dressed and well deserving commendation; but there was only one who struck him particularly, seated somewhat behind, and with the profile alone displayed. There was something, however, so exquisitely beautiful in the line of the face and the whole turn of the head, that Edward moved a little on one side to see her more distinctly. There, however, the head-dress of another lady interposed, and he was disappointed.

At that moment the first act ended, and Richelieu beckoned him to his side again. "What are you staring at there, young man? What would your Lucette say? I am afraid you are faithless."

"Oh, no, my lord," replied Edward. "That lady is very beautiful, but Lucette is more so,--to my mind at least."

"Do you think so?" said Richelieu. "I do not know which you were looking at, but one of them is my niece, the d.u.c.h.esse d'Aiguillon. What do you think of the comedy?"

"Not much," replied Edward. "But I really am no judge, my lord."

"I think you are a good judge," said Richelieu, whose dislike to Corneille is well known. "Now I will tell you what you had better do. Go on with me to Suza. You can help to force the pa.s.s as a volunteer, if you like, and then proceed to Venice should you feel disposed. You shall have Morini for a companion, and I will give you one of the king's foragers to see that you are not starved on the road."

No proposal could be more agreeable to Edward Langdale; but there was one impediment, which he frankly told the cardinal. As always happens, he had miscalculated his expenses, and found that the money he had brought from England would hardly suffice till he arrived at Venice. "I can get more to-morrow, your Eminence, I believe," he said, "for I have full authority to draw on my good friend Clement Tournon, whose credit is good in Paris; but that will take time; and your Eminence, I presume, sets out early."

"Not very early," answered Richelieu; "but if you follow me the next day you will catch me on the road. You can ride fast, I know, for you nearly killed the poor Basques who were sent to ride after you when you left Nantes. Morini will help you to get the money. Don't you know he is an alchemist, and can change any thing into gold? But he will take you to my banker,--who is the best alchemist, after all. So Clement Tournon trusts you, does he? He is the first goldsmith of the kind, I fancy."

"I can well afford to pay him whatever he lends me now, my lord,"

replied Edward. "For on one lucky day, which the Romans would have marked with a white stone, I recovered the deeds which secured to me my mother's large property, which deeds had been lost for several years."

"What day was that?" asked Richelieu, in a somewhat eager tone.

Edward told him, for he remembered it well; and the cardinal immediately called Morini to his side, and spoke to him for a moment or two in a low tone.

"The very same day, your Eminence sees," replied Morini, with an air of triumph. "Such small coincidences may be necessary to confirm your belief: with me it is not so. The stars never lie, my lord cardinal."

"If they speak at all, I suppose they do not," said Richelieu.

"They have spoken very plainly in this case," replied the astrologer.

"But the actors are going to begin again." And he was about to retire.

"Never mind," said the cardinal; "stay here. I have orders to give you, and I want them obeyed to the letter."

Edward knew that it was sometimes dangerous to overhear too much of the minister's conversation. He had heard of a man's finding his way into the Bastille merely because he had been very near his Eminence while he was conversing with a friend; and he therefore prudently withdrew to the farther part of the box. While the second act went on, Richelieu continued to talk with Morini, in a low tone, it is true, but with an indifference not at all complimentary to the actors or the piece. To the last acts he was somewhat more attentive, but went away before the play was concluded, merely saying to Edward as he pa.s.sed, "Go with this good signor, Monsieur Langdale, and follow his counsels. He has heard my opinion upon several matters; and, until we meet again, you had better be guided by him even in what may seem things of small consequence."

Edward Langdale bowed, and the minister pa.s.sed out; but Morini approached Edward's side, saying, "Let us go also, my young friend.

There is no use of staying to see this stupid play."

The young gentleman's eyes, however, were fixed upon the opposite side of the theatre, where the cardinal's niece and the ladies in her company were also preparing to take their departure. He had caught another glance of that beautiful face, though it was but for a moment; and now the figure as she was moving away showed lines as lovely as the profile.

Taller than most of her companions, and yet not very tall, every movement seemed grace itself; and, just as she was pa.s.sing the door, she turned round and gave a quick glance at the cardinal's box, which certainly did not diminish the admiration of the young Englishman.

"How very beautiful the d.u.c.h.ess of Aiguillon is!" said Edward, turning to Morini.

"Oh, yes," replied the other. "She is perhaps the most beautiful woman in France. But take care of what you are about; for some people say the cardinal is in love with her himself, and he will bear no rival."

"Oh, love," said Edward, "is out of the question. I look at her, Signor Morini, merely as I should look at a beautiful statue. I love one, as you know, fully as beautiful, and to me a thousand times more dear than she could ever become."

"Now you mention it," said Morini, "it strikes me there is some likeness between them."

"There is," said Edward; "but Lucette is much younger, and not so tall.

Now I will follow you, my good sir." And they went out of the theatre together.

CHAPTER XLIX.

Youth and Fate are always at variance as to times and distances. Youth says, "one day;" Fate says, "two." Youth says, "fifty miles;" but Fate almost always makes it a hundred. Edward had more difficulty in getting a thousand crowns than he had expected; and he did not altogether think that Signor Morini aided him as much as he might have done. Richelieu, who had only made a very short stay in Paris, quitted the capital about mid-day, and Edward, as may be supposed, was all impatience to hurry after him; but Morini, on the contrary, was as cool and composed as if he was making an astrological calculation, always remarking that he would overtake the minister long before he got to Suza. "He never travels very fast, you know," said the little Italian; "and, besides, he has got a whole party of the ladies of the court with him, who always make a march tedious. They went off at daylight this morning; but you may count upon them to make the journey at least five days longer than it ought to be."

"Nevertheless," said Edward, "I wish to proceed as fast as possible; and the objections of these bankers seem to me to be ridiculous."

"Oh, no; they make no objections," said Morini. "They only want a little time to consider. They are not all in love. They do not all want to get to Venice. They do business in a business-like way, and have no idea of firing off large sums like cannon-shot."

However, the whole of that day pa.s.sed without the money being procured; and the second day had seen the sun rise several hours, when at length Signor Morini thought fit to whisper two words in the ear of Monsieur Philippon, the banker, which, as if by magic, brought forth the thousand crowns about which there had been so much difficulty.

Nevertheless, it was three o'clock in the evening before Edward Langdale could depart; and then, besides Signor Morini himself and the king's forager who had been promised, were half a dozen lackeys and pages, and a good deal of baggage,--which did not promise to accelerate the journey. Once started, however, and with sufficient money in his pocket, Edward resolved to delay for no man, and to be at Suza as soon as the cardinal. He was somewhat mistaken in his calculation, indeed; for Richelieu pursued his way, wherever he could, by water; and, though the prime minister could always command boats, the young English gentleman could not obtain the same accommodation in a country where the pa.s.sage of troops and the court had rendered all means of progression scarce. In every other respect, the first part of Edward's journey was without accident,--I might almost have said without incident. But it so happened that at Montargis, where the young gentleman arrived in the afternoon, a large party of ladies were setting out on horseback just at the moment he entered the little town. The number of servants with them, and a small body of the cardinal's guard, showed that they belonged to the court, which could not otherwise have been discovered by their faces, as each, according to the general custom of that day, wore a little black velvet mask, called a _loup_, to guard her complexion when travelling.

Signor Morini, however, either divined who each was by her figure, or else, with Italian carelessness, took his chance of mistakes; for he dashed at once amidst the party, talked first to one and then to another, and seemed very well received by all. Edward had ridden up by his side; but, as he knew n.o.body, he spoke to n.o.body till one of the ladies observed, in a very sweet voice, "You do not seem so sociable as your companion, sir."

"I could not presume," said Edward, "to address ladies whom I have never seen before, unless they gave me some encouragement to do so."

"I do not know whether you have seen me," said the lady; "but I have seen you."

"Pray, where?" asked Edward,--"that I may give that wild bird, Fancy, some notion how to fly."