“Horrible! Oh, that I should cost those who love me so dear! Proceed, Duchess.”
“The Cardinal had in the meantime, as soon as your Majesty left Saint-Germain, sent to force your drawers and cabinets for papers.” Anne rises to her feet, white with terror. “Never fear, Madame; I had thought of that. Laporte had destroyed everything by my order. Only one letter to your brother the King of Spain was found. It was written the day you left, and confided by you, Mademoiselle de Hautefort, to Laporte,” and the Duchess gives a spiteful glance at the maid of honour. “Before he despatched it, Laporte was seized and searched.”
“There was nothing in that letter derogatory to me as Queen of France,” says the Queen quickly. “I spoke of Richelieu’s insane passion for me, and described the scene at Saint-Germain, and I told him I was about to leave for the Val de Grâce; nothing more. The Cardinal will not show that letter.”
“Yes, Madame, God be praised! it is so. But it was absolutely necessary that I should tell Chalais that but one letter had been found, and that perfectly innocent, before he was examined by the Cardinal. I have told him. He knows he can save his Queen. He is content to die!” As the Duchess speaks, the sound of wheels again interrupts them. “Hark! The Chancellor and the Archbishop have arrived. Courage, your Majesty! All now depends on your presence of mind. Nothing will be found in this convent, and Laporte waits at the door without. He will suffer no one to enter.”
Anne flings herself into the arms of the Duchess.
“You have saved me!” she cries, and covers her with kisses.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
An hour has passed. Laporte knocks at the door, and enters. His looks betray the alarm he tries to conceal.
“The Chancellor, Madame, has arrived, in company with the Archbishop of Paris,” he says, addressing the Queen. “The Archbishop has commanded the Abbess, the venerable Louise de Milli, and all the sisterhood, who went out to meet him, to return each one within her cell, and not to exchange a single word together during the time he remains in the convent, under pain of excommunication.” The Queen and the Duchess exchange anxious glances. Laporte speaks again with much hesitation, “I regret to say that the Chancellor then proceeded to search all the cells. No papers were found.” The Duchess clasps her hands with exultation. “How can I go on?” Laporte groans, the tears coming into his eyes. “Forgive me, Madame; I cannot help it.” The Queen makes an impatient gesture, and Laporte continues: “The Chancellor craves your Majesty’s pardon, but desires me to tell you that he bears a royal warrant, which he must obey, to search your private apartment, and this oratory also.”
“Let him have every facility, my good Laporte,” answers the Queen collectedly. “Mademoiselle de Hautefort, deliver up all my keys to Laporte.”