The Queen’s bold words had greatly impressed the council in her favour. The Archbishop and the Chancellor consult anxiously together. At length the Archbishop of Paris interposes.
“Her Majesty the Queen appears to have explained most satisfactorily all the accusations made against her. I was myself present at the examination of her private apartments within this convent of the Val de Grâce. Nothing was found but proofs of her pious sentiments and devout exercises, such as scourges, girdles spiked with iron to mortify the flesh, books of devotion and missals. It is to be desired that all royal ladies could disarm suspicion like her Majesty. If, therefore, the evidence which the Cardinal holds be in accordance with her Majesty’s declarations, all the charges may be withdrawn, and her Majesty be returned to those royal dignities and honours which she so fitly adorns. Speak, Cardinal Richelieu, do you hold counter evidence—yea, or nay?”
The Cardinal does not at once answer. He shuffles some papers in his hands, then turns towards the King, and whispers in his ear. Louis makes an impatient gesture of assent, and resumes his despondent attitude.
“I have his Majesty’s commands for replying,” answers Richelieu, “that no letters implicating the Queen in treasonable correspondence with her brother have been at present actually found, although his Majesty has reason to believe that such exist. Also that the Count de Chalais’s statements are in accord with those of her Majesty. Also that the King acquits Madame Anne, his consort, of the purpose of marrying with his brother, Monsieur Duc d’Orléans, on whom alone must rest the onus of such a crime. Usher of the court, summon the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting to attend her. Your Majesty is free,” adds Richelieu, and the mocking tone of his voice betrays involuntarily something of the inward rage he labours to conceal. “Madame Anne of Austria, you are no longer a prisoner of state under examination by the council, but are, as before, in full possession of the privileges, powers, immunities, and revenues belonging to the Queen Consort of France.”
Anne of Austria leaves her chair, salutes his Majesty with a profound obeisance, of which Louis takes no other notice than to turn his eyes to the ceiling, and then advances towards the door. The Chancellor and the Archbishop rise at the same time from the council-table, and hasten to open the door by which she is to pass out, bowing humbly before her.
“The royal carriages are in waiting, Madame,” whispered the Duchesse de Chevreuse, who, with Mademoiselle de Hautefort, was waiting outside; and she wrung the Queen’s hand. “My dear, dear mistress, I know you are free!”
“Praised be God!” replied Anne, “I have escaped,” and she kissed her on both cheeks, as also her maid of honour, who was so overcome she could not say one word of congratulation.
“Come, Madame,” cried the Duchesse de Chevreuse, “let us leave this dreadful place, I beseech you, lest the Cardinal should concoct some fresh plot to detain you.”
“Duchess,” replied Anne gaily, “you shall command me. It is to you I owe my liberty. But for your forethought those unhappy letters, wrung from me in moments of anguish—ah! of despair, would have been found, and I should at this moment have been on my way to the Bastille. My good Hautefort, you have not spoken to me. You look sad. What is it?” and the Queen took her hand.
“It is because I have contributed nothing towards your Majesty’s freedom. Besides, a foreboding of coming evil overpowers me,” and she burst into tears.