“Come, my friend,” said Richelieu, and together we left the room, the door of which he closed after us.
The guards were already half-way up the stairs, but paused at the sight of us standing there in the shadow above them.
“Good-evening, gentlemen,” said Richelieu. “May I ask your errand in this house?”
“’Tis Richelieu!” cried a voice, which I recognized as that of Hérault. “Wait a moment, men.”
He pushed his way to the front of the crowd.
“Our errand here concerns only yourself, M. le Duc,” he said. “We are charged to arrest you.”
“And of what am I accused?” asked Richelieu.
“You were ordered to join your regiment at Bayonne, monsieur,” answered Hérault, “and you are now in Paris. That is your offence.”
“’Tis not a great one.”
“But we must arrest you nevertheless, monsieur. Do you surrender, or shall we be compelled to take you by force?”