"Yes, she is a friend of mine."
"Good! I thought we should arrive at the truth. Now, will you explain how you came to be in the house where the soldiers found you?"
"It is a strange story, monsieur, and says little for my sense, but you shall hear it," and I related how cunningly François had lured me into the arms of his fellow-plotters.
"Pah!" exclaimed the councillor, wrinkling up his forehead, "that is a child's invention. You cannot expect us to believe such a tale."
"Still it is true, monsieur."
For nearly an hour longer the councillor continued putting all sorts of questions concerning Mazarin's plans, none of which I could answer. My silence made him very angry, and at last he exclaimed in a passion, "Take him away. I warrant we shall soon find a means of loosing his tongue."
The soldiers formed up and I was marched across the courtyard, where several prisoners who were not confined to their cells assembled to watch me pass. I gazed at them eagerly, but they were all strangers who only regarded me as a prisoner in a far worse plight than themselves.
"Courage, monsieur," whispered the gaoler, as the soldiers turned back from my cell, "we all have our misfortunes."
He spoke in a kindly manner and I looked at him gratefully, for a prisoner has but few friends. Then the door clanged, the bolts were pushed home, and I was left alone to reflect on the councillor's last words. I had heard too much not to understand what he meant by finding a way to loose my tongue, and I instantly began to conjure up all kinds of horrible pictures. However, it was useless going to meet trouble, so I endeavoured to banish the subject from my mind, and to think of my friends, Raoul, Marie, and the Englishman, who were doubtless wondering what had become of me.