“No, by Saint Paul! not so, my sister,” and Monsieur laughs gaily, for his facile nature dwelt upon nothing long, and his thoughts had now been diverted into other channels. “No; but we will have Richelieu there! Bassompierre and D’Ornano are with us; they swear that they will shut him up in an iron cage—as Louis XI. did Cardinal Balue—for life, and feed him on bread and water. Corps de Dieu! I should like to see it.”
“But I will have no blood shed,” rejoins the Queen; “remember that.”
“My sister, your word is law. When I have learnt more from Chalais, I will inform you of every detail.”
They had now reached the château. The windows shone with light. Torches fixed in the ground burnt round the great quadrangle, and a guard of musketeers, assembled near the entrance, presented arms as the Queen passed.
A page appeared, and handed a despatch to Mademoiselle de Mérigny, who had now joined the Queen. She presented it to her Majesty. Anne broke the seals. As she read she coloured, then laughed. “Gaston,” whispered she, turning to Monsieur, “this is the most extraordinary coincidence. We have been talking of the Cardinal, and here is a letter from him in which he craves a private audience. You shall learn by-and-by what it means.”
“Par Dieu!” exclaimed Monsieur, full of wonder.
“Tell no one of this but Chalais,” again whispered the Queen. Then she lightly laid her small hand within that of Monsieur; they mounted the grand staircase together, and passed through the long suite of the royal apartments. All were blazing with light; on either side of the great gallery stood the Court, ranged in two lines, waiting her Majesty’s pleasure. As she passed, led by Monsieur, she bowed slightly, and, with a wave of the hand, dismissed the assembly. At the door leading to her private apartment Monsieur pressed her hand, raised it to his lips, and, glancing at her significantly, bowed and retired.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE CARDINAL DUPED.
ANNE OF AUSTRIA seated herself beside a fire which burnt on the hearth. She signed to her attendants to withdraw.
“Send hither to me the Duchesse de Chevreuse, if she has returned to the château,” said she to one of the pages in waiting. Then Anne drew from her bosom the letter she had just received. “It is incredible,” said she, speaking to herself, “that he should so compromise himself! Pride has turned his brain. Now it is my turn, Monsieur le Cardinal.” The Duchess entered hastily. “Read, ma belle, read,” cried Anne, holding out the despatch to her, “the fates favour us. Let us a lay a trap for this wicked prelate.”