It was the first really alarming crisis in Richelieu’s life. There is no doubt that so clever a man must have expected something of the kind, must have known that the favourite’s tyranny could not last for ever. It was only a few days indeed since he and Barbin, having discovered that Concini meant to get rid of them and to replace them with more submissive Ministers, had privately offered their resignation to the Queen, who refused to receive it. Also, it seems, with a view to his own safety, Richelieu had made some advances towards friendship with M. de Luynes. But, for all that, the moment was dangerous. Both Court and populace were likely to turn against those who had owed their power to the dead Maréchal; various threats and warnings had already reached the ears of Barbin. For Richelieu himself, as he mounted the grand staircase of the Louvre, the signs were not exactly favourable. “I saw many faces of those who had caressed me two hours before, and who now did not recognise me.” In the great gallery, crowded with courtiers and armed men, young Louis XIII. was standing on a billiard table, to be seen by all. There is a picturesque story that he cried out, on seeing the Bishop approach, “Eh bien, Luçon! me voilà hors de votre tyrannie!” Whatever the boy may have thought or said, M. de Luynes was not so impolitic as to make a mortal enemy of the most brilliant man in the kingdom. Mangot might be scornfully neglected, Barbin might be imprisoned--as they were--but Luçon seemed worth winning, or at least keeping in the balance till the King and his mother had arranged their differences. According to Richelieu’s own account, the King spoke to him kindly--“saying that he knew I had always loved him (he used those words) and had taken his part on various occasions, in consideration of which he would treat me well.” M. de Luynes joined in, with protestations of friendship. But this was merely personal. When Richelieu tried to plead for his colleagues, who deserved the royal favour neither more nor less than himself, Luynes would not listen. He also replied very coldly to the Bishop’s request to see the Queen-mother, now strictly guarded in her own rooms. He gave him to understand, however, that he was still of the royal Council, and advised him to present himself in the Council-chamber. Richelieu did so; but only to be treated as an intruder. The old Ministers, Villeroy, Jeannin and the rest, were already in their former places, and were deeply engaged in the business of reversing Richelieu’s policy; while sending despatches to all the provinces, to the armies, to the rebel princes and to foreign courts with the news that the King of France had at length come to his own. It was a curious position for the late Secretary of State. After standing for a few minutes inside the door, speaking to one or two councillors, he thought it best to retire quietly, and went home to his house.