“Thank you, monsieur,” I answered, more moved than I cared to show by his evident concern. “But tell me, where are my friends?”
D’Ancenis glanced questioningly at Levau.
The latter nodded encouragingly.
“Tell him, monsieur,” he said. “It will do him no harm to talk, and worry might retard his recovery, although the effects of the injury are almost passed. You will excuse me, gentlemen,” and, followed by the nurse, he left the room.
“Very well, then,” said d’Ancenis, drawing a chair to the bedside and again taking my hand. “Proceed with your questions, de Brancas.”
“First,” I said, after a moment’s pause to enable me to marshal my thoughts in some kind of order, “is the regent safe?”
“Quite safe,” and d’Ancenis smiled more than ever. “That night ride of yours, my friend, did not deserve to be otherwise than successful. I have heard the regent tell the story a dozen times. He and his party heard first the rapid beat of horses’ hoofs. They paused to listen, when from the wood in front of them came a rider, clinging to his horse’s neck and fired a pistol into the air. There was a volley of shots behind him and he was seen to reel and almost fall. He caught himself by a supreme effort, clung to the saddle until ten paces from the regent, cried to him to save himself, and dropped senseless from his horse and rolled to the side of the road. It was over in a moment, the scoundrels who had shot him remaining concealed in the shelter of the trees. The regent, suspecting some treachery, immediately drew his pistols, as did the gentlemen with him, and retreated until some distance from the wood, so that surprise was impossible. Then a courier from Paris, who had reached him a few moments before, was sent back half a league to St. Cloud for re-enforcements. As soon as these arrived the wood was entered, but no one was found. The regent examined the body by the road, and at once recognized you, my friend. He knew not what to make of it, but ordered you picked up and brought back to Paris. There he heard from the commandant of the Versailles gate how you had got through. A little later, he learned from me how you had escaped from the hall and of the efforts made by Madame du Maine to stop you, for she was not so circumspect in this affair as is usual with her, and betrayed herself completely. The regent can put two and two together as well as any man, and he was not long in arriving at a conclusion. This conclusion became a certainty when a confession was secured from one of Cartouche’s rogues, who attempted to re-enter Paris the next morning and was captured. He told all of the details of the ambuscade, and how Cartouche himself, with his companions, was to have attacked the regent should he get past the wood alive. Cartouche has left Paris and is across the frontier by this time. Really, de Brancas,” and d’Ancenis paused a moment to look at me, “you are a devil of a fellow. This was quite in line with your escape from the Bastille.”
“And Richelieu?” I asked.
“Is still in prison, and likely to remain there for some time to come, to say no worse. His offence is nothing less than treason, monsieur, and the regent has sworn to have his head.”
I groaned aloud.