He recognised the force of this, and eagerly questioned me with a view to learning the name of the man who had sold his party; but in this I did not gratify him, having no more than a suspicion, though a strong one, myself.

For some time after this we walked along in silence, but presently he said, "I suppose you are established in the Palais Royal?"

"No. Belloc--you remember my father's old friend--wished to give me a commission in the Guards, but the Cardinal thought I could serve him better in another direction. For the present I am living in the street which runs at right angles to the front entrance."

"Well within call," remarked Raoul, adding, "meet me at the Luxembourg this evening; the Duke holds a reception. You need not fear putting your head in the lion's mouth. There is a truce: the calm before the storm; so let us make the most of it. You will come, will you not?

That is right. I must leave you now; there is Vautier beckoning, but we shall meet again this evening."

When he had gone I began to reckon up how things stood. Raoul was my bosom friend, who had held by me through good and ill. I loved him as a brother, and now it appeared we might be engaged at any time in mortal strife. The prospect was not pleasant, and I walked back to the Rue des Catonnes in anything but cheerful spirits.

I had selected this street, because, as Raoul said, it was within call: the rooms I had chosen on account of their cheapness. To my surprise and disgust, the Cardinal proved a poor paymaster, and, after buying my fine new clothes, there was little money left to spend in rent.

But I reflected there were more people who would notice my velvet suit, silver aigulets, lace collar, black hat with its imposing feather, and black leather boots, than would know I lived in two small rooms in a dirty street; and experience has taught me how high a value the world sets on outside show. So I walked with head erect, and just the smallest swagger, and the pa.s.sers-by did not fail to yield the wall to such a brilliant gallant. Albert de Lalande in rich velvet was a very different person from the simple country youth in rusty black, whose poverty had provoked the sneers of the guests at Vancey.

By one of those wonderful changes, which, more than anything, marked this period, Paris had become quiet and peaceful. The Frondeurs, as Mazarin's enemies were called, had stopped their private quarrels; the friends of Orleans joked with those of Conde; the agents of Mazarin and the followers of De Retz walked together like brothers; the citizens laid aside their weapons; the night-hawks had returned to their roosts.

Instead of meeting with insults, the Queen Regent was greeted with applause; people shouted themselves hoa.r.s.e on seeing the little King, thus expressing their loyalty in the cheapest and emptiest manner.

But no one, except his paid servants, spoke a word in favour of Mazarin, and in his cabinet at the Palais Royal, the real ruler of France sat like a big spider spinning his web; very slowly, very patiently, but strongly and surely. The threads might become loose or even destroyed; it mattered not. With a steady perseverance that no defeat could daunt, the spinning went on. The loose ends were caught up; fresh threads replaced those carried away. It was plain that the death of the spinner alone could prevent the completion of the web.

But this was looking too far ahead for all save a very few. The majority accepted the strange truce without question, and, happy in the present sunshine, cared nothing for the dark clouds that might arise in the future.

The streets were thronged with pleasure-seekers, and at night I could scarcely reach the Luxembourg for the crowd. It was a pleasant crowd, however, totally unlike the surly threatening mob I had twice seen and did not wish to see again. No one quarrelled; nothing const.i.tuted a cause for anger; the nearest approach to ill-humour being a reproachful, "Oh, monsieur, you trod on my foot!" from a pretty girl to a stout citizen, who offered a thousand apologies for his clumsiness, and was charmingly pardoned.

At the Luxembourg itself the crowds and the good-humour were repeated.

The courtyard was filled with gorgeous equipages, brilliantly dressed lackeys, guards, musketeers, gigantic Swiss soldiers, in all descriptions of uniform. I smiled at the vague nature of Raoul's invitation. Certainly I had come to the Luxembourg, but to find my friend was another matter. A few days previously I should have gone away in despair, but Paris had begun my education, and, instead of turning back, I walked towards the grand staircase.

A yellow carriage had drawn up at the entrance, and two ladies descended from it. I moved aside to let them pa.s.s, when one, a beautiful woman, with laughing eyes, exclaimed, "M. de Lalande!"

I had sufficient presence of mind to make a profound bow, when the fair stranger cried with a merry laugh, "Give me your arm. What new trick is this? What are you doing here?"

"I am looking for M. Beauchamp."

"He is a nice boy, but I did not know that you and he were fond of each other."

"We are very old friends, madame."

We had reached the first landing, and were waiting for the people in front to pa.s.s on, when I answered, and the lady, looking very hard at me, exclaimed, "Why, what is the meaning of this? Surely you are, and yet are not, M. de Lalande?"

"I expect, madame, that you have mistaken me for my cousin Henri. My name is Albert."

"Why, then, you belong to Mazarin's party! I have heard of you. Do you know that you have done us much mischief? But there, a truce to quarrelling," and, keeping me at her side, she entered a magnificent salon ablaze with light and colour.

I was gazing with delight at the scene when my companion exclaimed with a smile, "Mazarin has not destroyed us all yet, it seems. But there is M. Beauchamp! Raoul, come here, you naughty boy! Here is a friend of yours from the opposite camp. I leave him in your charge. I must go to the Duke, who has just discovered me, and fancies I am hatching fresh plots. What a suspicious world it is!" and with this the beautiful woman swept across the room, every one making way for her.

"That is Madame la d.u.c.h.esse de Chevreuse," explained Raoul. "I suppose she took you at first for Henri. She is one of our chief supporters, though really she has done the cause more harm than Mazarin will ever do. But come, there is an old friend yonder who wishes to see you."

He led me across the salon to where sat a fair girl with large, dreamy, tender blue eyes, an oval face framed in a ma.s.s of golden hair, delicate features, and a complexion like the bloom on a peach. This was Marie de Brione, who, when a little girl, had lived near Vancey, and had often played with Raoul and myself.

"I am going to scold you, Albert," she said smiling. "How is it you are against us? I thought we three old friends were sure to stand together. I could scarcely credit Raoul when he told me you had joined the Cardinal."

"It is very unfortunate," I stammered, "but I imagined I was acting for the best by helping Mazarin."

"You are a silly boy! When we have overthrown Mazarin we shall have to put you in the Bastille!"

"And in the lowest dungeon," added Raoul.

"You will find me more generous," I laughed. "The Cardinal is sure to win, and then I shall request him to forgive you two. Perhaps he will pardon you if I beg very hard."

"You heap coals of fire on our heads! After all, it may be a good thing to number one friend among our enemies."

"I am sure it will."

"Here is Marie's aunt," said Raoul. "I do not know what she will say at finding us on friendly terms with a _Mazarin_."

Madame Coutance was a widow, though hardly older than her niece. She was tall and graceful, with coils of dark hair covering her shapely head. Her eyes were large, black, bright and flashing; she had a straight nose, small mouth, with white even teeth, and tiny hands. I had not met her before, but since the death of Marie's parents she had taken the girl under her charge.

She entered heartily into Raoul's joke, pretending to regard me as a terrible enemy, and declaring the Duke ought not to permit me to leave the salon except as a prisoner. Jest and laughter made the time fly swiftly, and I was sorry when at last Raoul and I attended the ladies to their carriage.

"Do not forget the Rue Crillon, Monsieur de Lalande," exclaimed Marie's aunt as we stood a moment at the foot of the staircase, "unless you fear to trust yourself in our company. I must win you over to our side; your talents will be thrown away on Mazarin. But the horses are impatient, and we block the way; so adieu, messieurs," and she waved a small, delicately-gloved hand in farewell.

It was one o'clock, but the Luxembourg blazed with lights; the number of guests had scarcely diminished, though numerous carriages were drawn up in readiness to start, and groups of people still lingered outside to watch the termination of the brilliant fete.

"What do you think of Madame Coutance?" asked my comrade, as her carriage rolled away.

"She is very beautiful, and, if possible, more reckless even than Madame de Chevreuse. I hope she will not cause Marie to suffer through her folly."

Raoul's face clouded, but he affected to laugh at the idea of danger.

"The Duke will protect them," he remarked grandly, but on this point I had my doubts. However, since no good ever comes through disputing over a matter of opinion, I allowed the subject to drop, and prepared to take my leave.

"Are you going?" he asked. "I would have liked to introduce you to D'Arcy. He has been on duty all night, but will be free shortly."

"I should have been delighted, but I have to visit the Cardinal at seven this morning."

"And after?"

"If he doesn't need me, I shall go to bed. I am fatigued by these late hours."

"That is right," said he laughing. "I shall make the most of the truce, by calling for you this evening. Rue des Catonnes?"

"Third house from the corner, but I will watch for you."

Raoul, being in attendance on the Duke of Orleans, returned to the palace, while I left the courtyard in a rather thoughtful mood. I did not altogether like what I had heard of Madame Coutance. It seemed that she had joined, heart and soul, in the plots against Mazarin, and was regarded by his enemies with much favour.

As a conspirator, however, she had several failings. She boasted not alone of the victories won, but also of the victories she was about to win, and was so confident of her powers that she could never be brought to understand the strength of her opponents. I regarded her as rather a dangerous guardian for a young girl, and hoped she would not drag Marie into mischief. Away from the Luxembourg the streets were deserted, save for a few night-birds who were slinking off to their own quarters. The Rue des Catonnes was in darkness, but I knew the way, and, mounting the stairs quickly, reached my room.

"The Cardinal must not be kept waiting," I muttered, "but there is time for a short nap," and I got into bed.