“There are many things afoot in Paris,” he said, in a graver tone, and looking at me keenly. “But before I go further tell me, are you for the regent or against him?”
“I am neither for nor against the regent,” I answered, promptly. “I am for the king.”
“A wise answer,” and Richelieu smiled. “One that commits you to nothing. But come, you may be frank with me. What do you think of the Duke of Orleans?”
“The Duke of Orleans is quite indifferent to me,” I answered, readily enough. “I have heard little about him, and none of that was to his credit.”
“Well spoken!” cried Richelieu, heartily. “I see you will be with us. Come, I will trust you with a secret, but first permit me to give you a little lesson in politics. You say you know little about the regent. Let me tell you something about him.”
Now, I was not quite so ignorant of passing events as Richelieu seemed to think, yet I deemed it wise to keep my council and to hear these things as for the first time.
“Philip, Duke of Orleans,” continued Richelieu, “is not rightfully regent of France. Louis the Great’s will provided explicitly that there should be a council of regency during the king’s minority, in which Orleans should have only one vote. The real power was given to Louis’s son, the Duke du Maine, but he stood idly by and permitted Orleans to take up the regency almost unchallenged.”
“The more fool he,” I ejaculated, involuntarily.
“Right. The more fool he. But it is not for him we are going to fight. At least, not directly. He is busy making a collection of snuffboxes at Sceaux, and does not even know there is anything afoot. It is for the Duchess du Maine. Ah, there is a woman! Not beautiful, perhaps, but charming, and what a spirit! Orleans has not only assumed the regency, he has also deprived the Duke du Maine of his right to succeed to the throne. Again you say, that is his affair. True, but let us not forget the duchess. Do you know what she did when she heard of that decree? She was compelled to give up one of her apartments in the Tuileries in consequence, but before leaving she smashed every article of furniture in the room, and had to be carried away like a wounded general from a battle-field where he had won a great victory. Mlle. de Launay told me it was magnificent. In addition to all this, most of us have some little private quarrel to settle with the regent, and will welcome this opportunity to abase him. Well, what we propose to do is to take the regency away from Philip of Orleans and to give it to Philip of Spain.”
“Philip of Spain!” I cried.