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 Marechal 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 Pere 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’Orleans 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.”

“He does well,” said the younger Marillac, “for he is perhaps aware that although the wolf may prowl for awhile in safety, he is not always able to regain his lair with equal security.  Is there no man bold enough to deliver the kingdom from this monster?  Has he not yet shed blood enough?  Let his fate be once placed in my hands and it shall soon be decided by the headsman.”

“Heard you that?” whispered the Cardinal to his companion, as he wiped away the cold perspiration from his forehead, and again applied his ear to the wainscotted partition.

“Nay, nay, Marechal,” interposed De Guise with a bitter laugh, “you are inexorable!  Let the man live, and do not seek to emulate his bloodthirstiness.  His exile will content me, provided that it be accompanied by the confiscation of his ill-gotten wealth.”  “So, so; you are indulgent, Monsieur le Duc,” again murmured Richelieu.

“For my part,” said Bassompierre with affected clemency, “I do not advocate such extreme measures; there is no lack of accommodation in the Bastille; why send him on his travels either in this world or the next when he can be so snugly housed, and at so small an outlay to the state, until his Satanic Majesty sees fit to fetch him home?”