"I was there until a few days ago. But where is the Cardinal? I have a letter for him, and as soon as it is delivered I want to go to bed."
"You shall see him at once, follow me."
"Put the horses up somewhere, Pillot," I said, and throwing the reins to him, followed Belloc.
Several French gentlemen wearing Mazarin's colours lounged about; the courtyard was filled with soldiers, and sentries were stationed at the entrance. As for the Cardinal himself he looked very little like a beaten man.
"M. de Lalande," he purred in his silkiest tones, as Belloc showed me into the room. "You have been a long time doing my errand!"
"A sword-thrust in the side kept me in bed some weeks," I replied, "and on my return to the city I found that your Eminence was no longer there."
"Paris had grown unhealthy," said he smiling, "so I sought the purer air of the country. You, I believe, preferred the quiet seclusion of the Bastille."
"The choice was none of mine, my Lord."
"No? And so you have come to share my fortunes again?"
"I have brought your Eminence a letter from Le Tellier," and I handed him the document, which I had previously taken from its hiding-place.