“So,” said the regent, falling into that menacing calm which I had already seen in the Café Procope, “it is Richelieu who has done this. Do you hear, monsieur?” he continued, turning to me with a deadly purpose in his face. “I swear that if Richelieu crosses my path again his head shall fall. But,” he asked, turning suddenly to Dubois, “how did the King of Sardinia hear of this affair so quickly?”
“He was in Paris,” answered Dubois. “He came incognito a week since, for the purpose, I think, of getting a glimpse of the princess before asking for her hand. Hérault’s men have been watching him for me.”
“And where is he now?” asked the regent, eagerly.
“He left Paris at noon yesterday, monsieur,” and I thought to myself that he had done well to be far away before that message was delivered.
“Ah!” said the regent, in a tone of disappointment; and then turning to the deputation, “Messieurs, go back to your little king and tell him that he shall not escape chastisement. What! the ruler of a toy island in the Mediterranean dare to insult the regent of France? My arm is long enough to reach him, messieurs, and my hand strong enough to crush him. Go!”
The deputation hurried to the door, evidently only too glad to escape so lightly, and at a sign from the regent Dubois followed them.
“You have heard, M. de Brancas,” said the regent, turning to me, his face still red with anger, “this insult which has been put upon me, and you understand, of course, that it is Richelieu I have to thank for it, for I still believe that it was he and you who were in the Palais Royal gardens. But I am going to be generous, monsieur. You are free. I do not believe that in your heart you are my enemy. But keep away from plotting and intrigue, try to find some honorable employment for your sword, which, I have been assured, you know how to wield, and warn Richelieu to trouble me no more, else I will crush him as I would a fly.”
“I thank you, monsieur,” I said simply. “I shall not forget your kindness.”
“I am sure of it,” said the regent, and motioned me to go.
I left the palace with a light heart, and made my way to the Hotel de Richelieu. Jacques admitted me at once, and in a few words I told the anxious fellow what had happened to his master, and that he would probably return to Paris in the evening. This done, I took a bath and donned a change of raiment, and then sat down before a meal which Jacques had ordered for me, and which was in pleasing contrast to my food of the past two days. I glanced at the window and saw that evening was already at hand, and as Jacques brought the candles, I pulled my chair before the fire, with a bottle of wine at my elbow. Louise Dacour’s sweet face danced before me in the flames, and I wondered if it were indeed to be my fortune to see her again before the morning came.