At this ungenial period Louis XIII gave a splendid entertainment at the Louvre, to which he personally bade the Cardinal, who eagerly availed himself of so favourable an opportunity of mortifying the Queen-mother, by dividing with his sovereign the homage and adulation of the great nobles. Already had many of the guests arrived, and amid the flourish of trumpets, the melody of the royal musicians, the glare of torches, and the rustling of silks and cloth of gold, the great staircase and the grand gallery were rapidly becoming crowded; while groups might be seen scattered through the state apartments conversing in suppressed tones, some anxiously expecting the entrance of the King, and others as impatiently awaiting the arrival of the all-powerful minister. One of these groups, and that perhaps the most inimical of all that brilliant assemblage to the Cardinal, was composed of the two MM. de Marillac, the Duc de Guise, and the Marquis de Bassompierre. As they conversed earnestly with one another, the three first-named nobles remained grave and stern, as though they had met together to discuss some subject of vital and absorbing interest rather than to participate in the festivities of a monarch, while even Bassompierre himself seemed ill at ease, and strove in vain to assume his usual light and frivolous demeanour.
"His Eminence moves tardily to night," he said in reply to a remark of the Duke. "Can it be that we shall not have the honour of seeing him exhibit his crimson robes on this magnificent occasion?"
"It would seem so," was the moody rejoinder, "for time wears, and the King himself cannot delay his entrance much longer. Be wary, gentlemen, for should Richelieu indeed arrive, he will be dangerous to-night. I watched him narrowly at noon, and I remarked that he smiled more than once when there was no visible cause for mirth, and you well known what his smiles portend."
"Too well," said the Maréchal de Marillac; "death, or at best disgrace to some new victim. Shame to our brave France that she should submit even for a day to be thus priest-ridden!"
By an excess of caution the four nobles had gradually retreated to an obscure recess, half concealed by some heavy drapery; and Bassompierre, in an attitude of easy indifference, stood leaning against the tapestried panels that divided the sumptuous apartment which they occupied from an inner closet that had not been thrown open to the guests. Unfortunately, however, the peculiar construction of this closet was unknown even to the brilliant Gentleman of the Bedchamber, or he would have been at once aware that they could not have chosen a more dangerous position in which to discuss any forbidden topic. The trite proverb that "walls have ears" was perhaps never more fully exemplified than when applied to those of the Louvre at that period; many of them, and those all connected with the more public apartments, being composed of double panelling, between which a sufficient space had been left to admit of the passage of an eavesdropper, and the closet in question chanced to be one of these convenient lurking-places. A slight stir in the courtly crowd had for a moment interrupted the conversation, but as it almost immediately subsided, the subject by which the imprudent courtiers were engrossed was resumed; and meanwhile the Cardinal-Minister had arrived at the palace. He was not, however, attended by his train of gentlemen and guards; his name had not been announced by the royal ushers, nor had he yet joined the gorgeous company who were all prepared to do him honour. Since his interview with the King at Versailles he had apprehended treachery, and had consequently resolved to leave no means untried for discovering the truth of his suspicions. Various circumstances had tended to point those suspicions towards Bassompierre, and anxious, if possible, to test their validity, he determined to make an effort to surprise the incautious noble during a moment of frivolity and recklessness. Acting upon this impulse, he threw aside his ecclesiastical dress, and assuming that of a private citizen, as he was frequently in the habit of doing when he desired to escape observation,[143] he alighted from his carriage near the Tuileries, and gained the Louvre on foot, entirely unattended.
On reaching the palace he inquired of the officer on duty if M. de Bassompierre had yet arrived.
"He has, Monseigneur," replied the captain of the royal guard; "the Maréchal and several of his friends were conversing when I last traversed the blue hall, near the book-closet of his Majesty."
Richelieu nodded his thanks, and hastily turning into a side-gallery, he made his way to the treacherous closet by a private staircase, followed by Père Joseph who had been awaiting him, and in a few minutes they found themselves in the immediate neighbourhood of their intended victim.
During this time the King, the two Queens, and the Duc d'Orléans had made their entrance, and were slowly passing round the several salons uttering courteous welcomes to the assembled guests, and the royal party had no sooner swept by the group to which we have alluded, than the Duc de Guise exclaimed disdainfully, "Richelieu has learnt to fear at last! Here is the King, and he has not yet ventured to trust his sacred person within the grasp of his enemies."