Richelieu: A Tale of France, v. 2/3

I advise you that you read The Cardinal’s malice and his potency Together: to consider further, that What his high hatred would effect, wants not A minister in his power. SHAKSPEARE.
IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. II. LONDON: HENRY COLBURN, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 1829.
LONDON: PRINTED BY S. AND R. BENTLEY, Dorset Street, Fleet Street.

CONTENTS
The motto of which should be “Out of the frying-pan into the fire.”
THE jingle of Claude de Blenau’s spurs, as he descended with a quick step the staircase of the Palais Cardinal, told as plainly as a pair of French spurs could tell, that his heart was lightened of a heavy load since he had last tried their ascent; and the spring of his foot, as he leaped upon his horse, spoke much of renewed hope, and banished apprehension.
But the Devil of it is—(for I must use that homely but happy expression)—the Devil of it is, that the rebound of hope raises us as much above the level of truth, as the depression of fear sinks us below it: and De Blenau, striking his spurs into the sides of his horse, cantered off towards St. Germain as gaily as if all doubt and danger were over, and began to look upon bastilles, tortures, and racks, with all the other et-cetera of Richelieu’s government, as little better than chimeras of the imagination, with which he had nothing farther to do.
Hope sets off at a hand gallop, Consideration soon contents herself with a more moderate pace, and Doubt is reduced, at best, to a slow trot. Thus, as De Blenau began to reflect, he unconsciously drew in the bridle of his horse; and before he had proceeded one league on the way to St. Germain’s, the marks of deep thought were evident both in the pace of the courser and the countenance of the rider; De Blenau knitting his brow and biting his lip, as the various dangers that surrounded him crossed his mind; and the gentle barb, seemingly animated by the same spirit as his master, bending his arched neck and throwing out his feet with as much consideration as if the firm Chemin de St. Germain had been no better than a quagmire.