“You have something to say to me more confidentially, I perceive; do not be afraid, we are quite alone.”
“I am never afraid of anything under the shelter of my own conscience, and under the protection of your majesty,” said Colbert, bowing.
“If the dead, therefore, were to speak—”
“They do speak sometimes, sire,—read.”
“Ah!” murmured Aramis, in the prince’s ear, who, close beside him, listened without losing a syllable, “since you are placed here, monseigneur, in order to learn your vocation of a king, listen to a piece of infamy—of a nature truly royal. You are about to be a witness of one of those scenes which the foul fiend alone conceives and executes. Listen attentively,—you will find your advantage in it.”
The prince redoubled his attention, and saw Louis XIV. take from Colbert’s hands a letter the latter held out to him.
“The late cardinal’s handwriting,” said the king.
“Your majesty has an excellent memory,” replied Colbert, bowing; “it is an immense advantage for a king who is destined for hard work to recognize handwritings at the first glance.”
The king read Mazarin’s letter, and, as its contents are already known to the reader, in consequence of the misunderstanding between Madame de Chevreuse and Aramis, nothing further would be learned if we stated them here again.
“I do not quite understand,” said the king, greatly interested.