“He is trying to deceive me, monsieur,” and she looked at me questioningly. “You yourself know how little ground there is for such a hope.”
“There is something which I cannot tell you, mademoiselle,” I answered, “but which will undoubtedly secure his release if it results fortunately. That is true, believe me,” and without daring to say more, I opened the door and led the way down the staircase.
We were soon in the street, and I accompanied them to the little door opening on the Rue de Richelieu through which the duke had evaded the regent’s first trap. They bade me adieu, and Louise gave my hand a little pressure as she left me, but not even that could lift me from the gloom into which I had fallen. I returned slowly to the Rue des Saints Pères. Jacques was awaiting me, and paled visibly at sight of my downcast face.
“What has happened, monsieur?” he asked in a frightened whisper.
“Richelieu has been arrested. He is again in the Bastille,” I answered.
“But you will get him out, will you not, monsieur?” and the anxious fellow looked at me piteously.
“I will try, rest assured of that,” I said, and I smiled, with tears in my eyes, at his faith in me.
Sleep was long in coming to my eyes that night. If the conspiracy succeeded, Richelieu was saved. But if it failed, what then? I shuddered at the thought, for I remembered the regent’s last words to me and the look which had accompanied them. At last I fell into a troubled sleep, in which I saw again that graceful figure descending the staircase under the red glare of the torches. And then the scene changed. There was the same sea of eager, admiring faces watching in breathless silence, but the figure they watched was going up instead of down, and on the platform to which it was mounting there stood a block and a masked man with an axe. And the red glow over it all was blood.
CHAPTER XVI
A DAY OF FRUITLESS EFFORT
I arose in the morning weary and unrefreshed. My forebodings had increased rather than diminished, and I determined to lose no time in doing all I could in Richelieu’s behalf. Jacques’s gloomy face reflected my own, and I ate my breakfast in silence, for I had not the heart to tell him how little hope I really had and how helpless I felt.