“Ah, you do not then scorn to employ me! you exhibit your judgment and taste.  Do you know that the great Queen Christina of Sweden has asked for me, and wished to have me with her as her confidential man.  She was brought up to the sound of the cannon by the ‘Lion of the North,’ Gustavus Adolphus, her father.  She loves the smell of powder and brave men; but I would not serve her, because she is a Huguenot, and I have fixed principles, from which I never swerve.  ‘Par exemple’, I swear to you by Saint Jacques to guide Monsieur through the passes of the Pyrenees to Oleron as surely as through these woods, and to defend him against the Devil, if need be, as well as your papers, which we will bring you back without blot or tear.  As for recompense, I want none.  I always find it in the action itself.  Besides, I do not receive money, for I am a gentleman.  The Laubardemonts are a very ancient and very good family.”

“Adieu, then, noble Monsieur,” said Cinq-Mars; “go!”

After having pressed the hand of Fontrailles, he sighed and disappeared in the wood, on his return to the chateau of Chambord.

CHAPTER XX

THE READING

Shortly after the events just narrated, at the corner of the Palais-Royal, at a small and pretty house, numerous carriages were seen to draw up, and a door, reached by three steps, frequently to open.  The neighbors often came to their windows to complain of the noise made at so late an hour of the night, despite the fear of robbers; and the patrol often stopped in surprise, and passed on only when they saw at each carriage ten or twelve footmen, armed with staves and carrying torches.  A young gentleman, followed by three lackeys, entered and asked for Mademoiselle de Lorme.  He wore a long rapier, ornamented with pink ribbon.  Enormous bows of the same color on his high-heeled shoes almost entirely concealed his feet, which after the fashion of the day he turned very much out.  He frequently twisted a small curling moustache, and before entering combed his small pointed beard.  There was but one exclamation when he was announced.

“Here he is at last!” cried a young and rich voice.  “He has made us wait long enough for him, the dear Desbarreaux.  Come, take a seat! place yourself at this table and read.”

The speaker was a woman of about four-and-twenty, tall and handsome, notwithstanding her somewhat woolly black hair and her dark olive complexion.  There was something masculine in her manner, which she seemed to derive from her circle, composed entirely of men.  She took their arm unceremoniously, as she spoke to them, with a freedom which she communicated to them.  Her conversation was animated rather than joyous.  It often excited laughter around her; but it was by dint of intellect that she created gayety (if we may so express it), for her countenance, impassioned as it was, seemed incapable of bending into a smile, and her large blue eyes, under her jet-black hair, gave her at first rather a strange appearance.