"The room is empty, your Eminence."

"Ah," said he with a sigh of relief, "then we can look forward with an untroubled mind to meeting our kind host," and, laying aside his hat and cloak, he sat down.

In a short time the astrologer entered the room. He had put on dressing-gown and slippers, and was wearing his black skull-cap. His face, always pale, had become white, there was a constant twitching at the corners of his mouth, and the gray eyes I had thought so calm and powerful, fell beneath the keen gaze of the Cardinal. In spite of his treachery, I pitied the man, and almost found it in my heart to wish I had not observed my cousin and his companion enter the house.

Mazarin, fondling his beard, smiled pleasantly, and begged his host in such soft cooing tones to be seated, that Martin threw off the half-alarmed expression his face had worn.

"So you have been ill, my friend? _Per Baccho_! One can see it in your face. Ah, now I can breathe more freely and laugh at my fears."

I was standing between the table and the door, but in such a position as to be able to watch the old man's face.

"Fears, my lord?" he murmured questioningly.

"Yes, yes, I was foolish enough to doubt your--vigilance."

He purposely made a long pause between the last two words, during which Martin sat like a man waiting to be hanged; then he recovered himself and actually smiled.

"Something has happened without my knowledge," said he briskly.

"Without your knowledge, truly, my dear Martin, or you would have sent me word. As it is, I have to inform you that Paris has had a distinguished visitor."

Martin went deathly pale again and murmured, "Surely it cannot be----"

"Oh, no," interrupted Mazarin, smiling, "the Prince still occupies his prison at Havre. But La Rochefoucauld is here to represent him. If you go into the city you will hear the people crying for the release of Conde. They are not aware how comfortable he is. But you will not go!"

"Why not, my lord?"

"Because I have need of you. We must put our heads together, and unravel the mysteries of this plot. The matter is serious; all my enemies seem to be in league. Come now, do you fancy De Retz has been bought?"

I really felt sorry for the poor wretch with whom the Cardinal thus played as a cat plays with a mouse.

"De Retz?" he stammered. "I should think it very likely; the others could accomplish nothing without him, because he controls the mob."

"It is very unfortunate. You are aware he wishes to become a Cardinal, and now he will lose his chance. The red hat would have suited him well, but I must give it to Riviere, the bosom friend of Orleans. But perhaps even the Duke has been gained? What do you think, my dear Martin?" and the purring cat suddenly became a hissing serpent.

The unhappy astrologer bent his head.

"They must have secured him," he gasped like a man choking. "They would not dare to move without his support."

"And the king of the markets?" asked Mazarin, who thus scornfully referred to the Duke of Beaufort.

"He has powerful friends. His help would be valuable if there really is a conspiracy."

Leaning back in his chair, Mazarin stroked his beard thoughtfully.

Presently he began to purr, a sure sign that he had regained his composure.

"This union (which he p.r.o.nounced _onion_) of parties is very touching,"

said he, "yet in the interests of His Majesty it must be broken up,"

and he looked so fixedly at Martin that the latter was compelled to meet his gaze.

"How say you?" he continued, "would that little monkey of a priest rise to the bait of a Cardinal's hat?"

"It is probable, my Lord! That is, if the hat were a real one," at which Mazarin laughed loudly.

"_Per Baccho!_" exclaimed he, "we would not attempt to deceive so skilful a plotter. Then that is settled! A cardinal's hat for De Retz, and you shall make him our offer. But he must accept quickly; in twenty-four hours it will be too late. I am sorry to drag you from your sick bed, but the King's interests are above all."

"Come," thought I, "it promises to turn out not so badly. Mazarin must be a good fellow in the main, to let the astrologer off so lightly."

Martin, too, shared my satisfaction, especially when the Cardinal rose as if to depart. But the play-acting was not yet finished. I was moving towards the door when Mazarin suddenly sat down again.

"I had almost forgotten," said he softly, "and yet it is very important. I am about to set you a difficult task, my friend! no one else could do it, but then you are so wonderfully clever. Sit down and write a list of all those likely to have joined in this plot--men and women--the powerful and the insignificant; do not leave out one. And if you can make a guess what each has promised the other, put that in also. It will be interesting to see if our guesses are alike."

Still Martin did not break down, but his voice was very unsteady as he replied, "You over-rate my powers, my Lord, it would be impossible to do as you wish."

"You may have some papers which will help you," said Mazarin quietly.

"Look them over, my friend, I can wait."

At that the wretched man's courage forsook him, and, realising that his treachery was discovered, he flung himself at Mazarin's feet, crying, "Pardon me, Monseigneur, and you shall be told everything, but I have not the papers."

"Who has them?"

"Madame Coutance! She promised to obtain the signature of the King's uncle."

"That woman mixes herself up in everything," exclaimed Mazarin, irritably, "and does more harm by her folly than De Retz can manage by his scheming. She must be kept quiet for a month or two. De Lalande, ask M. Belloc to station a carriage, six troopers, and a spare horse at the corner of the Rue Crillon, and to remain there till he receives fresh orders."

I bowed, and leaving the room, hurried downstairs, where one of the men undid the fastenings of the door.

"Do not replace the bar till my return," I said, "I shall be away a short time only."

Belloc, who was watching from his hiding-place, perceived me immediately, and crossed the street.

"What is it?" he asked anxiously. "Has anything gone wrong?"

"No," said I, and delivered Mazarin's message.

"Rue Crillon?" he exclaimed. "That is where Madame Coutance lives."

"She is mixed up in the plot which Mazarin has discovered. I am sorry for her niece."

"Mazarin will do the maid no harm," exclaimed the old soldier. "I have always found his bark worse than his bite. Are you sure that he is quite safe yonder?"

"Everything appears as usual."

"Still, in case you are sent on another message, it will be as well that the Cardinal has some protection," and he gave a private signal which quickly brought two soldiers to our side.

"You are under the orders of M. de Lalande," he exclaimed, and, leaving me to return to the house, hurried off.

"Affairs go well," said the Cardinal briskly, as I entered the room, "and the credit is yours, M. de Lalande. But for your sharp eyes I might have failed to get on the track of this conspiracy against the King. There is one thing more for you to do. Take this note to Madame Coutance in the Rue Crillon. It is a request by our dear Martin that she will give up the papers relating to the plot. You will pa.s.s them to M. Belloc with orders to bring them here at once."