“’Tis what I feared,” I said. “I must get up,” and I raised myself on one elbow.
“Gently, gently, de Brancas,” and d’Ancenis pushed me back again, nor did I resist him greatly, for I was weaker than I had thought. “Do you think one man, already half dead, would be able to liberate Richelieu? You propose to take the Bastille by storm, I suppose, single-handed and alone. I should not be surprised to see you undertake such an exploit.”
I remained for a moment silent.
“Tell me the rest,” I said, finally. “Madame du Maine, Cellamare, Mlle. de Launay,—what has happened to them?”
“Cellamare was conducted out of Paris and started for Spain under a strong escort the morning after his arrest,” answered d’Ancenis. “He protested, of course, but it was of no use. The papers which were found in his possession exposed all the details of the plot, which was marvellously well arranged, and which almost makes one admire the duchess. Madame du Maine submitted very quietly until she found she was to be taken to the citadel of Dijon, when she fought like a tigress, but it was to no avail, and she was safely lodged in the dungeon, vowing a hundred kinds of vengeance against her jailers. Mlle. de Launay wished to accompany her mistress, but the regent was afraid to allow those two women to remain together, so mademoiselle was given a cell in the Bastille, as were all the other prisoners arrested at the Tuileries. We found Polignac lying senseless on the floor, and he was quite hysterical for a time, protesting his innocence. De Mesmes did the same, but both were silenced when they were confronted by their own statements of their share in the conspiracy. The Duc du Maine was also arrested.”
“The Duc du Maine?” I cried; “but he knew nothing about it. I have never even seen him.”
“I can well believe it,” and d’Ancenis smiled. “I was deputed to arrest him, and I found him very harmlessly engaged in looking over his collection of snuffboxes at Sceaux. He was astounded when I gave him an intimation of what the duchess had been doing, and was very indignant that she had caused him to be sent to prison. He was taken to the Château de Dourleans, stopping at every shrine along the road to pray, for he was firmly convinced that the regent was going to have him killed. The regent has little cause to love him, and will doubtless try to make a case against him.”
“But he cannot succeed,” I said, confidently. “There will be a hundred persons ready to testify in the duke’s behalf.”
“That is all the news,” concluded d’Ancenis. “Paris has been talking of it for a week and the topic is not yet exhausted. Shall I tell you, my friend, of what they talk most? It is of your ride, and there are fifty pretty women ready to worship you. There has been one in particular who has made it a point to inquire of me every day how you are getting on.”
“And who is she?” I asked, with leaping heart.