I felt Louise trembling against me. Richelieu was breathing deeply.
“Yes, a trap,” cried the regent; “and if I mistake not, the mice are already in it. Are there not mice in your conserve closet, mademoiselle? I fancied I heard a noise there.”
Richelieu, unable to control himself longer, threw open the door with a crash and sprang into the room.
“As you see, M. le Regent,” he cried, hoarse with rage, “the mice are here. But I warn you that they have sharp teeth and know how to use them.”
CHAPTER X
THE REGENT SCORES A POINT
Philip of Orleans was leaning back in a large chair facing the closet in which we had been concealed, and he did not alter his position a hair’s-breadth as Richelieu sprang into the room with drawn sword, I but a pace behind him. Indeed, his face did not change a muscle, and he turned towards us the smile he had employed with his daughter. But the latter, recognizing her lover, sank into a chair, her face drawn and gray with fear.
“Ah, M. le Duc,” said the regent, still smiling, “you remained among the preserves longer than I believed you would. You have great patience.”
“You shall never again have cause to say so, monsieur!” cried Richelieu, white with anger, “for I swear to you my patience is exhausted. Draw your sword and defend yourself.”
“Have patience a moment longer, monsieur,” said the regent, raising his hand. “You do not seem to fully understand the situation. Outside the secret door by which you entered a dozen of my guards are waiting, with orders to arrest you or to kill you should you resist them. In the antechamber there another dozen are stationed, whom a single cry would bring to my assistance.”
“But I should still have time to kill you, monsieur,” cried Richelieu.