"Take His Majesty to Charonne," he advised, "and bid him write a letter with his own hand to the Council, forbidding the gates to be opened. It may do good: it cannot do harm."
"And meanwhile?" asked Mazarin.
"My cavaliers are hot on the prince's track. I have ordered La Ferté to cross the river with his artillery, and Condé must either surrender or accept battle at St. Antoine."
"Remember the Porte St. Antoine!" The words sounded in my ears so clearly that it almost seemed as if I heard Raoul speaking.
"The Court will be in no danger," Turenne continued, "but I shall require every man who can use a sword or fire a musket. Have you ever seen a wild boar at bay? That is how Condé fights. I shall beat him, but the pack will be badly mauled. Gentlemen, who will ride with Turenne, and die with Turenne, if needs be, for the honour of France?"
There were a dozen of us, all belonging to Mazarin's body-guard, at the lower end of the room, and instantly every sword leaped from its scabbard and flashed in the air.
"I! I! I!" we shouted like a number of enthusiastic boys, and the famous general laughed genially.
No one, I fear, waited for the Cardinal's consent, and when, a few minutes later, Turenne mounted his horse, fifty headstrong cavaliers fell in joyously behind him.
"For the King! gentlemen," cried he. "For the King!" we echoed loyally, and the royal boy, with flushed cheeks and gleaming eyes, came in person to bid us farewell.
"I thank you, gentlemen, all," said he, and there was a curious catch in his voice. "I would I were riding in your ranks, but while the King has such loyal servants France need fear no rebels. I wish you success, gentlemen, you and your gallant leader."