About a week after this conversation with Humphreys, M. Belloc ordered me to be at the Cardinal's room at four o'clock the next morning. "Have your horse ready, and in good trim, as I believe you have a long journey." "Not as far as Bruhl, I hope?" "No," said he with a smile; "I think none of us will need to return to Bruhl in a hurry, though it is difficult to prophesy. However, see to your horse, and then get off to bed. The Cardinal will expect you at the very second." By this time I was well aware of Mazarin's crotchets, and took care to present myself at the proper time. His secretary opened the door, and admitted me into his master's room. Whether Mazarin ever went to bed at this period of his life I cannot say, but he always gave me the impression that he could live without sleep. There he was at four o'clock, in dressing gown and slippers, writing with no sign of weariness whatever. "Is your horse saddled, M. de Lalande?" he asked, without stopping or taking his eyes from the paper. "Yes, your Eminence." "Very good. Here is a little document; put it away safely. It is for Marshal Turenne, and it must be given to him this evening. He is at Etampes, or rather in the neighbourhood. Do not lose the missive, though it is less important than some you have carried." "Do I return at once, your Eminence?" "That will depend on Marshal Turenne. You will place yourself under his orders. And now, a prosperous ride to you." M. Belloc, who had placed my horse in care of a soldier, was waiting outside. He evidently knew the nature of my errand, and, as I mounted, wished me a quick and pleasant journey. "The country is fairly clear," he said, "and there is not much chance of meeting with an enemy. Still, it will be as well to keep your eyes open." "I will," said I, thinking of my journey to Bruhl, and of the smooth-spoken Captain Courcy. There was, however, little cause for alarm, the only soldiers I encountered being King's troops. At Limours, where I intended to stop for an hour or two, the inns were filled with them, and I found some difficulty in getting my horse stabled. The inn at which I at length stopped was the Golden Fleece, and even there every room was occupied. "I am grieved," exclaimed the innkeeper, a portly man with rubicund face, "but monsieur can have a table for his refreshment, and he will not find the guests objectionable." Opening a door, he ushered me into an apartment where three men sat. Two of them were evidently in company; the third, rather to my astonishment, was Pillot, who, glancing up at my entrance, rose to greet me. "You have left Gien then?" I said. "Where is M. Beauchamp?" "In the camp before Etampes, monsieur. He has recovered from his wounds, and has returned to his squadron. I offered to stay with him a while longer, but he preferred that I should join you." "When did you leave him?" "This morning, monsieur."