“I minister!” exclaimed the Grand Ecuyer; “God forbid! No, no, my Lord! never did such a thought cross my imagination. Believe me, Sire, I had no view of personal aggrandizement in the proposal I submitted to your Majesty.”
“But if you take from Richelieu his office, whom do you wish to substitute in his place?” demanded Louis; “some one must be minister.”
“True, my Liege; but are there not thousands well fitted for the post?” said Cinq Mars—“Politicians as deep, but more humane than Richelieu—Men who can govern, and yet not tyrannize? I will undertake to find such a one for your Majesty, and yet remain myself fully satisfied with being the humble friend of my royal master, and the sincere well-wisher of my native Country. But let me order, in your name, the Duke of Bouillon to march into France; and then, provided with sufficient forces to disarm this usurping Minister, and overawe rebellion, your own royal will will be your only guide.”
“At present,” said Fontrailles, “the King’s love for his people operates in two opposing directions, making him anxious to relieve them from the burden under which they groan, yet fearful of throwing a portion of them into rebellion. But by the presence of the Duke’s army, the Minister might be removed, without endangering the tranquillity of the realm.”
“True,” said Louis; “true. Monsieur de Fontrailles, you say right;” and placing his hand before his eyes, the King thought for a moment, struggling inwardly to exert the powers of his mind, and call up sufficient resolution to deliver himself from the thraldom in which he had so long been held. But dangers, and doubts, and difficulties swam before his mental vision, like motes dancing in the sunbeam; and never destined in life to overcome his long-encouraged inactivity, he strove to cast the responsibility from himself. “Well, well,” exclaimed he, “Cinq Mars, you shall decide it; I will leave the conduct of it all to you. But beware that you do not bring the miseries of civil war upon my kingdom; for be assured that if you do, I will require it of you deeply—It is your own seeking, and the consequences be upon your own head.”
“Let it be so, then, my Liege,” cried Cinq Mars, kissing the emaciated hand of the feeble Monarch; “it shall not be my fault if France and my Sovereign are not soon freed from the cloud that has so long overshadowed them both.”
“Well, well,” said Louis, “we will trust in God for the event. But beware of Bouillon; Cinq Mars, he is rank Spanish at his heart. And now, gentlemen, to bed, for we must rise in time for our sport. But, in truth, I fear I shall not hunt much longer—the body fails me, Cinq Mars, though I was once a thing of strength, as thou art.”
CHAPTER X.
How Chavigni rode fifty miles to ride back again.
WHILE these schemes for the downfall of his Patron were going forward at Narbonne, Chavigni spurred on rapidly towards Tarascon, where the falling Minister lay sick, both in body and in mind. Besides the personal attachment of the Statesman to Richelieu, who had formed his fortunes, and led him in the way to greatness, every consideration of his own interest bade him oppose the resignation of the Cardinal, which he clearly saw would bring inevitable destruction upon all persons connected with the existing ministry.