“Oh! as to that,” said Aramis, “we are witnesses.  Mazarin especially ——­ "

“Yes, do you know, I am very glad to hear you give that testimony; the cardinal has some good in him, and if he were not a foreigner —­ well, he would be more justly estimated.  Oh! the devil take this gout!”

Athos and Aramis took their leave, but even in the ante-chamber they could still hear the duke’s cries; he was evidently suffering the tortures of the damned.

When they reached the street, Aramis said: 

“Well, Athos, what do you think?”

“Of whom?”

“Pardieu! of Monsieur de Bouillon.”

“My friend, I think that he is much troubled with gout.”

“You noticed that I didn’t breathe a word as to the purpose of our visit?”

“You did well; you would have caused him an access of his disease.  Let us go to Monsieur de Beaufort.”

The two friends went to the Hotel de Vendome.  It was ten o’clock when they arrived.  The Hotel de Vendome was not less guarded than the Hotel de Bouillon, and presented as warlike an appearance.  There were sentinels, a guard in the court, stacks of arms, and horses saddled.  Two horsemen going out as Athos and Aramis entered were obliged to give place to them.

“Ah! ah! gentlemen,” said Aramis, “decidedly it is a night for meetings.  We shall be very unfortunate if, after meeting so often this evening, we should not succeed in meeting to-morrow.”

“Oh, as to that, sir,” replied Chatillon (for it was he who, with Flamarens, was leaving the Duc de Beaufort), “you may be assured; for if we meet by night without seeking each other, much more shall we meet by day when wishing it.”

“I hope that is true,” said Aramis.

“As for me, I am sure of it,” said the duke.

De Flamarens and De Chatillon continued on their way and Athos and Aramis dismounted.

Hardly had they given the bridles of their horses to their lackeys and rid themselves of their cloaks when a man approached them, and after looking at them for an instant by the doubtful light of the lantern hung in the centre of the courtyard he uttered an exclamation of joy and ran to embrace them.

“Comte de la Fere!” the man cried out; “Chevalier d’Herblay!  How does it happen that you are in Paris?”

“Rochefort!” cried the two friends.

“Yes! we arrived four or five days ago from the Vendomois, as you know, and we are going to give Mazarin something to do.  You are still with us, I presume?”

“More than ever.  And the duke?”

“Furious against the cardinal.  You know his success —­ our dear duke?  He is really king of Paris; he can’t go out without being mobbed by his admirers.”

“Ah! so much the better!  Can we have the honor of seeing his highness?”

“I shall be proud to present you,” and Rochefort walked on.  Every door was opened to him.  Monsieur de Beaufort was at supper, but he rose quickly on hearing the two friends announced.