My Sword's My Fortune: A Story of Old FranceHayens, Herbert
History
My Sword's My Fortune: A Story of Old France
Hayens, Herbert
France -- History -- 17th century -- Fiction
"It is a signal of some sort," I said.
"Yes," he exclaimed, "but fortunately it was given just too late. I
must be more careful in future. Come! The sooner we are inside the
gate the better," and he walked so quickly that I had much ado to keep
pace with him.
Passing the sentries at the gate, we crossed the courtyard, and entered
the Palais Royal through a narrow door leading to a private staircase.
Turning to the left at the top, Mazarin led the way along what appeared
to be an endless succession of corridors. Soldiers were stationed here
and there, but, instantly recognising the cloaked figure, they saluted
and we passed on.
At last Mazarin paused, and blowing softly on a silver whistle was
instantly joined by a man in civilian attire.
"Find M. de Lalande food and a bed," exclaimed the Cardinal briskly.
"For the present he is my guest, and will remain within call. Has M.
Belloc returned?"
"No, my Lord."
"Let him attend me immediately upon his arrival. Where are the
reports?"
"On your table, my Lord."
"Very good. See to M. de Lalande, and then wait in the ante-chamber.
You may be wanted."
The man, who, I imagine, was a kind of under secretary, made a low bow,
and motioned me to follow him, which I did gladly, being both hungry
and tired. Showing me into a large room, he rang the bell and ordered
supper. The excitement had not destroyed my appetite, and I did ample
justice to the meal. Then, passing to an inner chamber, I undressed
and went to bed, to sleep as soundly as if I had still been under my
father's roof.
For three days I saw nothing more of the Cardinal. All sorts of people
came and went--powerful nobles, soldiers, a few bourgeois, and a number
of men whom I classed in my own mind as spies. They crowded the
ante-room for hours, waiting till the minister had leisure to receive
them.
On the fourth morning I was lounging in the corridor, having nothing
better to do, when a soldier passed into the ante-room. His clothes
were soiled and muddy; he was booted and spurred, and had apparently
just returned from a long journey.
"M. Belloc!" I exclaimed, but he did not hear me, and before I could
reach him he had gone into Mazarin's room, much to the disgust of those
who had been waiting since early morning for an audience.
As he remained closeted with the Cardinal for more than an hour, it was
evident he brought important news, and the people in the ante-room
wondered what it could be.
"He is a clever fellow," remarked one. "I know him well. No one has
greater influence with Mazarin."
"The Cardinal is brewing a surprise," whispered another. "Paris will
have a chance to gossip in a day or two."
"It is rumoured," continued the first, "that De Retz nearly found
himself in the Bastille only the other night."
"'Twould have served him right, too; he is a regular monkey for
mischief. I wonder the Cardinal has put up with his tricks so long."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
My Sword's My Fortune: A Story of Old France — John Shaqi
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