"I did not once remove my eyes from the door, and it was closed the whole time."

"Then you cannot account for the reappearance of these visitors?"

I shook my head.

"If my explanation is correct, it throws a light on several queer things," said Mazarin smiling. "However, that part of the business can stand over, I am not in a hurry at present. Now as to these cloaked gentlemen! Did you recognise them?"

"Only my cousin Henri."

"Ah, he is a clever fellow, a trifle too clever perhaps. Now describe his companion to me again."

"A little man, your Eminence, dark and ugly. An ill-made, awkward, bow-legged fellow, looking the more ungainly because of his handsome apparel."

"The description is not a flattering one!" laughed the Cardinal. "This ugly little man of yours is no less a person than Jean Paul de Gondi, Abbe de Retz, Coadjutor of Paris, Archbishop of Corinth, a future Cardinal--so it is rumoured--and the man who is to fill Mazarin's office when that unworthy minister has lost his head."

Dipping his pen in the ink, he wrote an order and handed it to me.

"For M. Belloc," he said. "In a few hours we shall discover what your information is worth, but, whatever the result, you have done your part well."

Rising from the chair, I bowed and left the room, rather puffed up by the Cardinal's praise; but disappointed at not having learned the nature of the secret which I had unearthed.

Was it possible that Martin had been playing a double game? It appeared very much like it, and, according to all accounts, De Retz paid his servants in good money, while those who served the Cardinal were generally rewarded by empty promises.

Finding Belloc, I handed him the paper, at which he glanced quickly, and exclaimed, "More work, my boy, and to be done at once. The Cardinal's orders are all marked 'Immediate,'" and he went off with a good-humoured laugh.

As there was nothing more to detain me at the Palace I returned to my rooms in the Rue des Catonnes, and, having made myself ready, sat down by the cas.e.m.e.nt to watch for Raoul. The street was very still and peaceful that evening, and, while waiting for my friend, my thoughts roamed over the incidents of the day. As to my own discovery, it did not engage my attention long. I had done my duty in warning Mazarin, and for the rest he must look to himself.

One point, however, caused me a considerable amount of anxiety. The Cardinal had spoken of Madame Coutance, and in no pleasant way. I knew very little of the lady, but, as I have said, it vexed me that her niece's safety should be to some extent in the hands of such a hare-brained conspirator.

"She will be doing an extra foolish thing some day," I said to myself, half asleep and half awake, "and the Cardinal will clap both her and Marie into the Bastille. I must warn Raoul; he may have some influence over her."

"Over whom?" exclaimed a merry voice, and, opening my eyes, I beheld Raoul himself standing close to me.

"A good thing for you that the truce still holds," cried he gaily, "or I could easily have deprived Mazarin of a supporter."

He laughed again quite merrily, and I laughed too; the idea of Raoul raising a hand against me seemed so ridiculous.

"Sit down a minute," I said, "while I explain. The affair is not a secret," and I repeated Mazarin't remarks to him.

"You are right, Albert," he exclaimed gravely; "this is a serious matter, but unfortunately I can do nothing. Madame Coutance grows more reckless every day, and at present is using all her influence to a.s.sist De Retz. To-morrow perhaps she will join Conde's party, for any side opposed to Mazarin is good enough for her."

"Does Marie side with her aunt?"

"She cannot help herself, though she has no liking for intrigue. But come, let us take a turn in the city; it will blow the cobwebs out of our brains."

We had reached the Pont Neuf when a gaily dressed gallant, calling to Raoul, caused us to stop.

"Armand!" exclaimed my comrade in surprise. "I understood you had gone to the Louvre!"

"Are you not ashamed to be caught plotting with a _Mazarin_?"

"Ah! I forgot that you knew M. de Lalande!"

"Oh, yes," said I, "this gentleman and I are warm friends. He shows me to my inn, comes to my rooms, and invites me to go with him on his parties of pleasure."

Laughing lightheartedly, young D'Arcy took my arm.

"You rascal!" he cried, "it is fortunate we are at peace, or I should have to run you through for the honour of the Fronde. You made us the laughing-stock of Paris."

I inquired if he had released the prisoner at the inn, on which he gave us such a comical account of the dwarf's unhappy plight that we could not keep from laughing aloud.

"Who was he?" asked Raoul.

"Pillot the dwarf, the trusty henchman of De Retz."

"That is awkward for you," said Raoul turning to me. "Pillot is a cunning rogue, and is now hand in glove with your cousin. Really, Albert, you must take care of yourself, you have raised up a host of enemies already."

"And the Italian cannot save you!" remarked D'Arcy, with a superior air; "his own downfall is at hand. Alas, my poor friend, I pity you."

We were still laughing at him when he suddenly exclaimed, "Ah, here is Lautrec. Tell me, is he not a show picture? I feel almost tempted to change sides, if only to deck myself out so gorgeously."

CHAPTER VII.

The Cardinal takes an Evening Walk.

D'Arcy's acquaintance was one of the _pet.i.ts maitres_, as Conde's followers were called, and it was easy to see that he prided himself immensely on his fine clothes. He was dressed in a coat of dark blue cloth covered with fine lace; his mantle was scarlet, and his silk stockings, ornamented with lace, were of the same colour. He wore a black hat turned up _a la catalane_, and adorned by an enormous black feather, and his gloves were of a soft, gray buckskin. His scabbard was picked out with various designs, and jewels shone in the hilt of the sword.

"Lautrec, my friend, come here!" cried D'Arcy. "_Ma foi!_ what an interesting group! Raoul and I for the Duke; Lautrec for Conde, and M.

de Lalande for Mazarin. We only want a friend of De Retz to complete the party!"

"What?" cried Lautrec, looking at me with a broad smile, "the hero of Scarron's poem? The youngster from the country who tricked De Retz?

M. de Lalande, I am delighted to meet you!"

"We will go to Perret's, and Lautrec shall sing us the famous song which Scarron wrote on our attempt to abduct the Cardinal," cried D'Arcy.

"But," said I in surprise, "it is not possible that the affair is openly talked about?"

"Why not? It is of the past. Who cares for yesterday's thunderstorm, especially when it did no damage? We are all brothers now."

"But is it safe to introduce a _Mazarin_ at Perret's?" asked Raoul.

"Have no fear," exclaimed Lautrec, "your young friend will be welcome; only we shall not tell him our secrets!" and he glanced roguishly at D'Arcy.

It seemed rather odd to be on terms of friendship with Mazarin's enemies, but this was only one of the strange features of this strange period. No one appeared able to remain serious long; a fight was followed by a banquet, and your opponent of the morning supped with you at night.