These last swaggered about showing off their finery, singing noisily, and occasionally compelling the passers-by to cheer for Condé. Now and again a coach, preceded by lackeys bearing flambeaux, would roll by, conveying ladies of distinction to or from some brilliant assembly.
At the corner of the Rue Crillon I looked for M. Belloc, but some time passed before he appeared, and then I could see nothing of a carriage.
"In the yard of the 'Plume of Feathers,'" said he, in answer to my question; "it would attract too much attention standing here. Paris is in a turmoil to-night. I do not like the signs. The people are restless without knowing why, though there is some talk of Condé's returning."
"The Cardinal has first to unlock the door," I replied, at which the old warrior smiled grimly, thinking such a proceeding on Mazarin's part very unlikely.
"Why is the carriage required?" he asked.
"To convey Madame Coutance either to the Bastille or to her own place at Aunay. It is a troublesome business," and I explained just what my orders were.
"Better get it over at once," he suggested, "it will be none the pleasanter for delay;" so, putting a bold face on the matter, I walked to the door of the house, and inquired for Madame Coutance.
"She is not at home, monsieur," replied the porter. "Both the ladies went out early this evening with Madame de Chevreuse."
I put several further questions, but the porter was either a very stupid man or a very faithful servant—he knew nothing, and I had to retire baffled.
"They will return soon," said my companion, when I rejoined him, "unless madame has received a hint of her danger."