A few minutes before seven o'clock I crossed the courtyard of the Palais Royal, ascended the grand staircase, stopped a moment as usual to joke with the Guards; and, traversing the corridor, reached Mazarin's room just as his secretary came out.
"Go straight in, M. de Lalande. His Eminence expects you at seven, and the clock has given warning."
The last stroke had not sounded as I entered the room.
The Cardinal had been at work for hours. He sat at a table covered with documents, and, still perusing one of them, exclaimed in his silky, purring voice, "You are punctual, M. de Lalande!"
"Yes, my lord."
"I feared," said he slowly, and rustling the paper, "that last night's festivities might have fatigued you."
He turned and looked at me so as to enjoy my surprise, but, managing with an effort to preserve my composure, I remarked that I left the Luxembourg early.
"Very sensible," he murmured. "And may I ask how you found your charming friend, Madame de Chevreuse?"
"Madame de Chevreuse is no friend of mine," I stammered awkwardly. "I met her for the first time last night, when she mistook me for my cousin."
"That likeness must be very embarrassing. It would be unfortunate if the public executioner should make a similar mistake! But let us not dwell on these things; tell me about the latest plot of Madame Coutance."