"I had no choice in the matter, your Highness."
Condé looked me straight in the face, and I met his gaze without flinching.
"You look like an honest lad," he exclaimed grudgingly, "but the evidence against you is strong. Come, tell me everything, and I will promise you a pardon beforehand. Was it Mazarin who urged you on?"
"I have not heard from the Cardinal for months, monsieur. If the plot was his work, he did not take me into his confidence. But I think, monsieur, that your enemies are nearer home."
"How? No one in Paris but De Retz would plan such a deed."
"The Abbé is a dangerous enemy, your Highness."
"No," said Condé, looking puzzled, "it could not have been De Retz. He and his henchman, De Lalande—your cousin by the way—were with me five minutes after the pistol was fired. I wish you would trust me."
"You will laugh at my suspicions, and the explanation will not benefit me."
"Ma foi! I have learned to consider nothing strange in this citizen squabble. Come, speak as a friend, and I promise on my honour not to repeat your words."
I hardly knew what to do. I had no wish to injure either Henri or Pillot, but on the other hand, my own life was in danger, and finally I resolved to relate the story with as little mention of names as possible.