“I suspected that Orleans would try a game of this kind,” continued the duke, after a moment. “You remember, I warned you against it, de Brancas.”
“Yes, I remember,” I groaned, “and yet I did nothing to prevent it.”
Richelieu arose quickly and came towards me.
“Believe me,” he said, taking my hand, “I am not blaming you in the least, my friend. But you have a bandage about your head. You have been wounded, then? Forgive me for allowing my own affairs to blind me so.”
I answered with a pressure of the hand.
“You have not heard?” I asked, quickly.
“I have heard nothing,” said Richelieu. “They permitted me to receive no one, to speak to no one. They would not even permit me to wave my handkerchief to you, as you know. What has happened?”
As briefly as I could I told him the story of Madame du Maine’s arrest and repeated what I had already heard from d’Ancenis.
“This is all very well,” said Richelieu, when I had finished, “but you have not yet told me how you received your wound, de Brancas. Come, my friend, I suspect another of your dare-devil adventures. Tell me about it.”
So I told him the story of my night ride and the rescue of the regent. Richelieu heard me with sparkling eyes.