“I am overcome by your gracious consideration for my welfare,” cries Monsieur, catching at her words. “But, my sister,” continues he gravely, “do you know what this plot means? Assassination is spoken of. At this very moment I wager my life the Duchess is employing all her seductions to draw Chalais into a promise of stabbing the Cardinal.”
“Stabbing the Cardinal? Impossible! Chalais would not commit a crime. You make me tremble. The Duchess told me nothing of this. She must have lost her head.”
“I know that Chalais is fiercely jealous. He is jealous of every one who approaches the Duchess, and we all know that the Cardinal is not insensible to her charms——”
“Odious hypocrite!” breaks in the Queen.
“As long as Richelieu lives,” continues Monsieur, “my mother will not be set at liberty. He dreads her influence. He knows she has a powerful party.”
“It is infamous!” exclaims Anne of Austria.
“The Cardinal persuades the King that he alone can govern France, and that our mother desires to depose him and appoint a regency, which I am to share with her; that you, my sister, conspire against him with Spain. My brother, weak, irresolute, insensible to you, believes all that is told him. I, my mother’s only friend, dare not assist her. You, his wife, the loveliest princess in Europe—nay, in the whole world,”—and his kindling eyes fix themselves upon her—“he repulses. You might as well be married to an anchorite. Thank God, his Majesty’s health is feeble, his life very uncertain. If he dies I shall be King of France, and then——” He pauses, as if hesitating to finish the sentence. “Ah, my sister!” he exclaims, stopping and trying to detain her. “Had I been blessed with such a consort I would have passed my life at her feet. Would that even now I might do so! The dark canopy of these ancient trees—the silence, the solitude, make all possible. Speak to me, Anne; tell me—oh, tell me that I may hope. Do not turn away from me——”
The Queen had stopped. She stands listening to him with her face turned towards the ground.
The moon is fast sinking behind the distant tree-tops, and the deepest shadows of the night darken their path which had now left the terrace, and lay beneath the trees. The wind sighs and moans in the adjoining forest, and an owl hoots from an ivy-covered tree. For some minutes the Queen moves not. Her whole figure is in shadow. Was she listening to the voices of the night? or was she deeply musing on what she had heard? Who can tell?
Some sudden resolve seemed, however, to form itself in her mind. She roused herself, and motions to Monsieur with her hand to go onwards. “Alas, my brother,” she says with a deep sigh, “do not press me, I beseech you. You know not what you say. Such words are treason.” And she hurries onwards into the gloom. “Head the conspiracy against the Cardinal,” she continues, moving quickly forward as if afraid to hear more; “restrain the violence of Chalais, who loves you well and will obey you. I will temper the indiscretion of the Duchess. She is an excellent lieutenant, inspired in her readiness of resource and ingenuity in intrigue; but—she is a bad general. We must be careful, Gaston, or we shall all find ourselves prisoners in the Bastille.”