"It is a straight fight now," said he; "the sort of thing I understand.

It is rumoured that the Queen will leave Paris, and the guards will escort her. Have you a berth in the King's household yet?"

"No, I am still unattached, but Le Tellier has just sent for me; so there is no knowing what may happen. By the way, I have seen my cousin," and I related briefly the story of his illness and death.

"Bravo, Pillot!" exclaimed Humphreys when I had finished; "he's a plucky rascal, and loyal, too. What will become of him now that his master is dead?"

"He has agreed to take service with me. But I must go; Le Tellier has been waiting for some time," and I proceeded quickly to the under-minister's apartment.

"At last, M. de Lalande," rather irritably. "I began to wonder if you had left Paris! Are you still willing to do the King a service?"

"I shall be delighted, monsieur."

"Humph!" said he, making a wry face, "I am not so sure of that. I intend to send you on a dangerous errand. You will need a keen eye, sharp brain, and, as likely as not, a strong arm. My last messenger was waylaid and nearly killed, and you may fare even worse."

"The prospect is not over pleasant," I answered laughing, "but I may have better luck."

"I hope you will," said he doubtfully, "but it is a risky venture. You know that Cardinal Mazarin is at Bruhl, near Cologne? Well, it is necessary to take him an important paper."

"There seems small risk in that!"

"There you are wrong. It is well understood that letters pa.s.s to and fro, and his enemies are on the watch. It may be they will learn your secret before you get outside the gates. Their spies are everywhere; even, I may say, in the Palace itself. Now, will you undertake the commission?"

"Certainly, but I cannot travel on foot."

"There are horses in France, I suppose."

"One cannot buy them without money, which so far, has never been plentiful with me."

"Oh," said he, "I will attend to that. The King cannot afford to be n.i.g.g.ardly in this matter, eh?" and without even making a wry face he gave me a liberal supply of money.

"Now," he continued, when I had replaced my purse, "this is a serious affair, and the Court will depend not only on your courage but on your skill. Mazarin must receive that letter, and no one else must see it.

Do you understand?"

"Perfectly, monsieur."

"You will leave Paris to-night; trust no one, and remember that every man you meet on the road may be a spy in Conde's pay."

"Then the chief danger is to be expected from the prince?"

"From every one," he exclaimed sharply. "King's friends. Queen's friends, _Frondeurs_ and _pet.i.ts maitres_ are all to be suspected until that letter is placed in Mazarin's own hands."

Being a very tiny packet it was hidden without much difficulty, and, after listening to Le Tellier's cautions all over again, I left the apartment. Humphreys was waiting in the courtyard, but, staying only to whisper, "Secret service," I hurried on to my own rooms.

"Monsieur will find his things on the bed," said the landlord; "they are rather shabby, but they will attract less notice than new ones."

I asked if the town was quiet, and with a shrug, of his shoulders he said, "As yet, but there will be mischief presently. Monsieur is wise to put on an overall if he wishes to walk abroad."

"I am going to look on, nothing more. Now bring me something to eat, and I will pay your bill."

"I am obliged," said he as coolly as if it were an everyday incident, though I am sure he must have felt surprised at such an unexpected stroke of luck. I know I was astonished at my own ability to pay him.

"Monsieur will return?" said he questioningly, when at last I was ready to depart.

"I trust so. Keep the rooms for me."

He took the money, opened the door, and bowed low as I went out. He had always treated me well, and I was glad to have the means of settling my debt to him.

A considerable change had taken place in the streets since the morning, and there were numerous signs of the threatening storm. The Black Mantles had disappeared, having shut themselves up in their barricaded houses. Brawny men, half-naked and unwashed, patrolled the roadway, mostly in two and threes, but here and there in larger groups. Every one had a weapon, pike or club, axe or chopper, while a certain proportion carried horse-pistols, or blunderbusses.

I pushed on quickly through the crowd to the Rue Crillon, feeling more alarmed at every step, as the promenaders were rapidly getting ripe for mischief. Thus far I believe they had no settled purpose beyond general plunder, but no one could tell what might happen at any moment.

I ought really to have gone on with Le Tellier's note, but I could not make up my mind to abandon the ladies. Most of their friends had followed Conde, Raoul could not leave the Luxembourg, and they were practically alone in Paris.

When I reached the Rue Crillon it was nearly empty, and I managed to pa.s.s un.o.bserved into my friends' house. Marie and her aunt were sitting in an upstairs room that faced the street. Madame Coutance was looking out with an expression of scorn, but the girl's face was pale and apprehensive. At first they failed to recognise me in my workman's disguise, but after a second or two the elder lady exclaimed, "Why surely it is M. de Lalande, our cavalier, the knight-errant who goes about rescuing distressed dames. But why this mummery, my trusty knight? What does it mean?"

"That I intend doing my utmost to save your life, madame. Come, before the mob begins to work mischief. Raoul has procured me a permit which will pa.s.s us through the gates."

"You have grown wondrous timid of a sudden," she laughed. "I can perceive no sign of danger. There are a few people in the street, but they are quiet enough."

"They are swarming from their dens in all quarters of the town, madame, and they are as likely as not to come here."

"But why should they?" she inquired, and I could only reply by asking why they should not.

"They cannot wish to injure us," exclaimed Marie; "we have done them no harm!" a remark which showed how little the girl understood the pa.s.sions of an angry mob.

For ten minutes or more I stood there begging Madame Coutance to escape, and all the while the number of people in the street steadily increased. They had done no mischief as yet, but pa.s.sed their time in an aimless sort of promenade, shouting, singing, and mocking at any well-dressed pa.s.ser-by. Once the whole crowd for some reason swept into the adjoining street, and for a brief period the Rue Crillon was left empty.

"Your bogey has vanished, Albert," cried Madame Coutance in triumph; "I told you there was no danger."

"I trust madame will prove the surer prophet, but I am still doubtful."

"Here they come again!" cried Marie. "What a horrid din! What are they doing, Albert?"

"Singing, but I cannot distinguish the words. They are growing more restless now. I should like to see D'Artagnan ride up with his troopers; he would soon clear the road. But I expect there is sufficient work for him in other parts."

For a while we stood, half hidden by the heavy curtains, watching the antics of the crowd, and wondering what would happen next. The people moved to and fro like caged animals, walking a few steps and turning back or crossing repeatedly from one side of the road to the other. A body of soldiers would have dispersed them easily, as they had neither purpose nor leader.

Presently they began to cl.u.s.ter more thickly at a spot some twenty yards below our house, and then I saw a big ragged fellow holding aloft a red flag, while another was pointing to it, and talking violently. I could not hear what he said, but every now and then the crowd shouted approval of his words.

"The fellow is hatching trouble," I muttered to myself, and, almost unconsciously, I felt for Le Tellier's note.

"They will attack the Palais Royal," said Madame Coutance. "They are angry because the prince has been driven away. I am sorry for the Queen, but they will not hurt her, if she promises to recall him."

"Be still!" I exclaimed with more freedom than politeness, "and listen.

Now, can you understand?"

It had come at last. Chance or fate had given the mob a cry, which was all they needed. They were bent on plunder and violence, and any excuse was good enough. Low, deep, and stern, like the early rumblings of a volcano, the cry sounded; then the volume swelled, became clearer and more piercing, till at last in one stupendous roar it shook the place.

"Down with Conde! Down with Conde!"