I saluted, and, turning away, ordered Pillot to see that the horses were ready early, as we might have a long journey the next day.
"Perhaps it is to Paris, monsieur," he suggested, his eyes sparkling. "I wonder if we could find our way to the inn in the Rue de Roi? I fear not. It is so long since we were there. The citizens will take me for a peasant!"
"Hardly that!" I answered laughing. "But why do you think we may go to Paris?"
"I do not know," said he comically, "perhaps because I hoped it might be so."
Poor Pillot was fated to be disappointed, as I discovered in the morning. Mazarin had apparently been up for hours when I entered his room. His table was littered with papers and letters, one of which was addressed to the Duke of Lorraine.
"De Lalande," said he without ceremony, "how would you like to be captured by the Spaniards?"
"Captured by the Spaniards, my Lord?"
"Why, yes," said he, "it does not sound pleasant, but I fear that is what will happen to you. This letter is addressed to the Duke of Lorraine, but it is really meant to fall into the hands of the Spanish general."
"I understand, my Lord," I replied, though not with any degree of truth.
"Hardly, De Lalande," said he lightly, "but I will make it clear to you. Marshal Turenne has too many foes, and if we can induce Fuensaldaña to retreat, it will be a point in our favour. Should this letter fall into his hands he will decide to go, but the affair requires caution. That is why I have selected you. The Spaniards are near Compiègne, and I want you to be taken prisoner as soon as possible."