Richelieu made an effort. "Yes—yes—from the first, as you say. What of the other, the bourgeois, Mme. d'Etioles?"
"Oh—his Majesty sees her sometimes, I think. She is pretty, but—bourgeois, of course. M. de Gêvres is following in your lead. He is to be seen at all times with the Countess."
"And what of Claude? Does he say nothing?"
"Nothing, I believe. The King seems fatal to him."
"Well, let us depart now for the Œil. I am anxious to behold all the gossips once again."
The two rose and passed together into the corridor, which opened on the great gallery. "Ah! By-the-way," observed d'Argenson, as they went, "his Majesty has begun to cook again."
"To cook!" Richelieu's heart quivered suddenly. "What—"
"M. de Richelieu! Good-morning—a thousand congratulations on your return to us. You go to the Œil? I will return there with you. Charming—charming—the Court has been empty without you. You will reawaken his Majesty. Doubtless Monsieur le Comte has been giving you the details of our deplorably dull state. Voyons!"
At any other time de Tessé would have annoyed Richelieu excessively with this shower of familiarity; but at the moment he was grateful for it, since it brought him to himself again. During the walk down the gallery they encountered half a dozen more ladies and gentlemen, all of whom greeted the Duke with effusive warmth, and enabled him to reach a very suitable frame of mind for his appearance in the famous Bull's-Eye, which was presently reached.
The small room was crowded. Every one went there for the hour preceding mass—a service which had lately become highly popular, it being the only place where his Majesty was visible. Richelieu was given but an instant's survey of the throng before a group closed in upon him. But in that instant he had found what he sought—the figure of Deborah, who stood under the Bull's-Eye, de Gêvres on her right hand, Penthièvre on her left, de Sauvré in front, and Claude ten feet away, against the wall, talking abstractedly to d'Argenson's impossible and still unmarried cousin.