"Bah!" she exclaimed, "no one can help a fallen favourite!"
"Then there is the Queen-Mother; I cannot range myself among her enemies."
"You are very simple," said madame smiling. "Anne of Austria has no enemies; we all bow to her and the little King. Condé is her chief friend," and with that she went away, leaving me to think over the matter.
CHAPTER X.
Pillot to the Rescue.
Every day now the rumour of Mazarin's defeat grew louder, but, knowing the man well, I doubted if all France could disturb his position. And though I felt little personal liking for the Cardinal, it seemed to me that the country was safer in his hands than it would be in the hands of those opposed to him.
De Retz, a noisy brawler, stirred up the mob in his own interests; Gaston of Orleans, unstable as water, was a mere shuttle-cock tossed to and fro by any strong man who chose to make use of him; Condé, though a brave and skilful general, already grasped more power than a subject should possess. Between them they had turned Paris into a hot-bed of rebellion and discontent.
I was musing over these things one evening when a horseman came at walking pace into the courtyard of the chateau. The animal appeared tired out, and the man himself was covered with dust and dirt.
"A special messenger from Paris," I muttered, and, going forward, recognised Pillot, whom I had treated so scurvily at the inn.