The master of the auberge—for there were no hotels in Paris till the nobility who had hotels, broken in fortune and deprived of power, were forced to sell their dwellings to the affable receivers of all men—welcomed him, as he himself would have called it, with all distinction; and his reverence was greatly increased when the young stranger called for pen and ink and paper and indited a note to the cardinal prime minister, telling him of his arrival in Paris, and craving an audience as soon as possible on business of the utmost importance. He had the good faith to tell him that the business was of importance to himself; but that frankness was not thrown away upon the cardinal.
He sealed the letter with the great seal of his arms, and begged the aubergist to send it immediately by a messenger who would if possible obtain an answer.
The good man remarked that it was the hour of the cardinal's dinner, and that men said that his Eminence was to set off on the following day upon a long journey.
"The more reason he should have that letter as soon as possible," said Edward. "Pray, let it go without delay; and if the man brings me back an answer I will give him a gold crown."
What took place at the cardinal's palace—a smaller building than the magnificent edifice he afterward erected, long known first as the Palais Cardinal and afterward as the Palais Royal—I do not know; but at the end of an hour and a half the man returned, and, with a happy grin, demanded his gold crown, handing Edward a sealed paper. The contents were as follows:—
"I am commanded by his Eminence to inform Monsieur de Langdale that, though he cannot give him a formal audience, he will see him to-night at the theatre of the Hôtel de Bourgogne, when he will hear whatever he has to communicate. This letter presented at the door will be his introduction."Rossignol."
Edward Langdale took care to obtain every information he could from the landlord in regard to the Parisian theatre, which was at that time just beginning to rise into some degree of importance. Some years before, the theatres of Paris were merely the resort of bad women and dissolute men and the scene of very bad actors; but Richelieu, with that fine taste which was one of his remarkable characteristics, had not only seen that the stage might easily be refined, but had absolutely refined it. Excellent actors were engaged at both the great theatres of Paris; authors, not alone of merit, but of real genius, pressed forward in a new career of literature; and the highest and purest ladies of the French court graced the theatre, perhaps as much to please and flatter the great minister as for any entertainment they received.
At the hour which had been indicated by the landlord Edward was at the door of the Hôtel de Bourgogne; and as he saw that everybody was paying for entrance he did the same, and then exhibited the letter of the secretary Rossignol. The moment it was seen by the people at the door the effect was magical. Two men started forward, bowing to the ground, reproached the young stranger in somewhat stilted terms for not showing the note before he had paid for admission, and begged to lead him to the cardinal, who they informed him had just entered. The arrangement of a theatre in those days was very different from that of modern times; but yet Richelieu had his little room, or box, as we should call it now, at the Hôtel de Bourgogne, close to the stage, but not upon it. Into this room no one was admitted but those specially invited, and at the door stood two of his guards, who, however, gave instant ingress to Edward as soon as they saw the letter he carried in his hand. In the box were some eight or nine people, with the cardinal himself on the left-hand side, where he had a full view of the stage but could hardly be seen from the body of the house. The play had not commenced, and he turned his head at the sound of the door as Edward entered. The moment he saw him he beckoned him up to his side, before Edward had seen the other persons in the box, who, be it remarked, were all standing. Richelieu's first question was what had brought his young friend—as he was pleased to call him—to Paris before the stipulated time. Edward, in his usual brief style, explained all the circumstances, and, without hesitation, placed the two letters he had received in the minister's hands. Richelieu read them and smiled, saying, "So you are both still very much in love with each other? Well, I have done one good work at least in life pour l'amour de Dieu. Now, what do you intend to do, Monsieur Langdale?"
"To go post-haste to Venice, may it please your Eminence," replied Edward; "and when I arrive there, as it will not want much more than six weeks of the time I promised you not to seek her as my wife, I intend to ask you to free me from that promise, let me claim her as my own, and trust to my good luck and your power to sustain me."
The cardinal seemed half inclined to laugh. "Take her when you can get her," he said, with something more than a smile. "But you cannot get to Venice, my good boy, till the king opens the pass of Suza. Don't you know that the very impracticable Duke of Savoy holds all the passes closed and thinks he can resist the power of France?"