Using his private signal Mazarin knocked boldly at the door; the window above us opened, and the servant, finding who his master's visitors were, hurried to let us in. The bolts were hastily shot back, the bars lowered, and then the door was thrown open by the obsequious porter, who stood bowing almost to the ground. Several lanterns suspended along the wall shed a dim light through the passage, and a second man, bearing another lantern, hastily came forward to conduct us. I could not help thinking as we stepped inside, how completely the astrologer held Mazarin in his power! CHAPTER VIII. The Plot is Discovered. "Is your master at home?" asked the Cardinal. "He is, my Lord," replied the man with a low bow; "but he is unwell, and has retired to rest." "Ah, my poor Martin, what a misfortune! but lead the way; he will doubtless make an effort to receive an old friend like myself." While one servant made the door fast, the other went forward with the lantern, and we followed; the Cardinal, a trifle uneasy, glancing keenly from side to side, as if half expecting to meet with some lurking enemy. Everything, however, seemed as usual. The lower part of the house was empty save for a woman cooking some savoury dish, and she took not the slightest notice of us. The fellow with the lantern opened the door of the astrologer's room, and, lighting several wax candles, requested us to be seated while he informed his master of our presence. As soon as he had gone, Mazarin ordered me to explore the part screened by the curtains, which I did, sword in hand. "These conspirators are so crafty," he murmured, "that they make one cautious even in the house of a friend like the worthy Martin." "The room is empty, your Eminence." "Ah," said he with a sigh of relief, "then we can look forward with an untroubled mind to meeting our kind host," and, laying aside his hat and cloak, he sat down. In a short time the astrologer entered the room. He had put on dressing-gown and slippers, and was wearing his black skull-cap. His face, always pale, had become white, there was a constant twitching at the corners of his mouth, and the gray eyes I had thought so calm and powerful, fell beneath the keen gaze of the Cardinal. In spite of his treachery, I pitied the man, and almost found it in my heart to wish I had not observed my cousin and his companion enter the house. Mazarin, fondling his beard, smiled pleasantly, and begged his host in such soft cooing tones to be seated, that Martin threw off the half-alarmed expression his face had worn. "So you have been ill, my friend? _Per Baccho_! One can see it in your face. Ah, now I can breathe more freely and laugh at my fears." I was standing between the table and the door, but in such a position as to be able to watch the old man's face. "Fears, my lord?" he murmured questioningly. "Yes, yes, I was foolish enough to doubt your--vigilance."