“If we could ascertain the reason of this arrest,” said Madame de Beaumont, “it might in some degree satisfy our minds.”
“That may be easily done,” replied the Bishop, “as Monsieur de Blenau is resolved to surrender himself. We can question the Officer, in regard to what occurred at the place from whence he comes; and by that means discover what circumstances have arisen to cast suspicion on the Count.”
What the Bishop proposed was instantly agreed to; and De Blenau sent forward his Page to inform the Officer of his determination.
Anne of Austria then took a few steps along the nave, and turned to see if he still held his resolution. De Blenau bowed. “I follow your Majesty,” he said “I feel that I have nothing to fear.” And they passed on slowly and sadly to the other end of the church.
As they went, Pauline still clung to the arm of her lover, as if she feared that every moment they would tear him from her; and tear after tear rolled silently down her cheeks. The heart of De Blenau also was too full for words, so that silence hung upon the whole party.
At the door which communicated with the Palace, stood the Cardinal’s Officer, with two or three of his men; and as she approached, the Queen desired him to follow her to the saloon. The Officer bowed low, and replied, that he would obey her commands; but immediately advancing to De Blenau, he laid his hand upon the Count’s arm. “In the King’s name, Monsieur le Comte de Blenau,” said he, “I arrest you for high treason. Behold my warrant.”
Pauline recoiled with a look of fear; and De Blenau calmly put the man’s hand from off his sleeve. “Pass on, Sir,” he said, “I am your prisoner.” The Officer hesitated; “Pass on, Sir,” repeated the Count; “you have my word. I am your prisoner.”
The man passed on, but not before he had made a sign to the soldiers who were with him, who suffered the Count and Pauline to pass, and then closing in, followed at a few paces distance.
On reaching the saloon, the Queen took her seat; and beckoning to Pauline, who, faint and terrified, was hardly able to support herself, she made her sit down on the footstool at her feet. “Now, Sir Officer,” said Anne of Austria, “what news bring you from Narbonne? How fares his Majesty the King?”
“May it please you, Madame,” he replied, “I come not from Narbonne, as your Majesty supposes, but from Tarascon, where the King had just arrived when I departed.”