Mazarin cross-questioned Saujon,—and no one knew better than he how to conduct an inquest,—but turn his victim as he might the Cardinal could not wring from Saujon anything but the truth. Saujon insisted that Mademoiselle had not known anything concerning the intercepted letter.
Anne of Austria, seconded by Monsieur, feigned to take the affair seriously, and a violent scene ensued.
One evening (May 6, 1648, according to d'Ormesson) the Abbé de la Rivière met Mademoiselle in the corridor of the Palais Royal, and casually informed her that the Queen and Monsieur were angry. Almost at the same instant Monsieur issued from the room adjoining the corridor and ordered his daughter to enter the Queen's room.
Then [said Mademoiselle] I went into the Queen's gallery. Mlle. de Guise, who was with me, would have followed me, but Monsieur furiously shut the door in her face. Had not my mind been free from all remorse I should have been frightened, but I knew that I was innocent, and I advanced toward the Queen, who greeted me angrily. She said to the Cardinal: "We must wait until her father comes; he must hear it!" I went to the window, which was higher than the rest of the gallery, and I listened with all the pride possible to one who feels that her cause is just. When Monsieur arrived the Queen said to me sharply: "Your father and I know all about your dealings with Saujon. We know all your plans!" I answered that I did not know to what plans she had reference, and that I was somewhat curious to know what her Majesty meant.
Anne of Austria was angry, and her shrill falsetto conveyed an impression of vulgarity. Mademoiselle, calmly contemptuous, on foot and very erect, stood in the embrasure of the long window; Monsieur, who dreaded his daughter's anger, had drawn close to the Queen; directly behind Monsieur was Mazarin, visibly amused.
Mademoiselle listened to her accusers, and answered with a sneer that she had nothing to do with it, that she was not interested in it, that such a scheme was worthy of low people.
"This concerns my honour," she said coldly; "it is not a question of the head of Cinq-Mars, nor of Chalais, whom Monsieur delivered to death. No; nor is it an affair to be classed with the examinations to which Richelieu subjected your Majesty!"
"It is a fine thing," screamed Anne of Austria, "to recompense a man for his attachment to your service by putting his head upon the block!"
"It would not be the first head that had visited the block, but it would be the first one that I had put there," retorted Mademoiselle.
"Will you answer what you are asked?" demanded the Queen. I obeyed [said Mademoiselle]. I told her that as I had never been questioned, I should be embarrassed to answer. Cardinal Mazarin listened to all that I said, and he laughed.... The discussion seemed long to me. Repetitions which are not agreeable always produce that effect. The conversation had lasted an hour and a half. It bored me, and as I saw that it would never end if I did not go away, I said to the Queen: "I believe that your Majesty has nothing more to say to me." She replied that she had not. I curtsied and went out from the combat, victorious, but very angry. As I abandoned the field, the Abbé de la Rivière tried to address me. I halted, and discharged my anger at him; then I went to my room, where I was seized by fever.
Before she "abandoned the field" Mademoiselle rated Monsieur, who had imprudently attempted to interpose a word in favour of the Queen. Mme. de Motteville, to whom Anne of Austria told the story, reported that Mademoiselle reproached her father bitterly because he had not married her to the Emperor, when he "might easily have done so." She told him that it was shameful for a man not to defend his daughter "when her glory appeared to be attacked." The courtiers assembled in the adjoining room, though unable to distinguish the words of the discussion, had listened with curiosity. Mme. de Motteville said:
We could not hear what they were saying, but we heard the noise of the accusations and we heard Mademoiselle's calm defence. The Queen's Minister avoided showing that he was interested in it in any way. Although there were but three voices there was so great a clamour that we were anxious to know the result and the meaning of the quarrel. Mademoiselle came out of the gallery looking more haughty than ashamed, and her eyes shone with anger rather than with repentance. That evening the Queen did me the honour to tell me that had she been possessed of a daughter who had treated her as Mademoiselle had treated Monsieur, she would have banished her and never permitted her to return,—and that she should have shut her up in a convent.
The day after the discussion guards were mounted at the door of Mademoiselle's apartments. The Abbé de la Rivière visited Mademoiselle to tell her that her father forbade her to receive any one—no matter whom—until she was ready to confess what she knew of the intercepted letter. Mademoiselle remained firm in her denial of any knowledge of it.