These tales agitated Madame Coutance, and I knew she longed to be back in the midst of the storm. While I remained at Aunay this was impossible, but, in spite of her desire, she would not let me depart. "You will become a vegetable at Vancey," she said, "and I want to push your fortunes. Mazarin must soon be beaten, and you shall join the great prince. I have influence with him, and will use it." Thanking her warmly, I pointed out that, having pledged my word to Mazarin, I could not accept the prince's favours. "Bah!" she exclaimed, "no one can help a fallen favourite!" "Then there is the Queen-Mother; I cannot range myself among her enemies." "You are very simple," said madame smiling. "Anne of Austria has no enemies; we all bow to her and the little King. Conde is her chief friend," and with that she went away, leaving me to think over the matter. CHAPTER X. Pillot to the Rescue. Every day now the rumour of Mazarin's defeat grew louder, but, knowing the man well, I doubted if all France could disturb his position. And though I felt little personal liking for the Cardinal, it seemed to me that the country was safer in his hands than it would be in the hands of those opposed to him. De Retz, a noisy brawler, stirred up the mob in his own interests; Gaston of Orleans, unstable as water, was a mere shuttle-cock tossed to and fro by any strong man who chose to make use of him; Conde, though a brave and skilful general, already grasped more power than a subject should possess. Between them they had turned Paris into a hot-bed of rebellion and discontent. I was musing over these things one evening when a horseman came at walking pace into the courtyard of the chateau. The animal appeared tired out, and the man himself was covered with dust and dirt. "A special messenger from Paris," I muttered, and, going forward, recognised Pillot, whom I had treated so scurvily at the inn. The little man displayed no malice, but his eyes twinkled as he slipped from the back of his exhausted horse. "You have ridden fast," I remarked, and, calling a servant, ordered him to give the animal a good feed and a rub down. "Thanks, monsieur, he deserves it. A plague on these troublesome journeys. Why do people live outside Paris, I wonder?" Laughing at the question, I inquired if he had come to see me. "No, monsieur; this is an unexpected pleasure," and he showed his teeth in a broad grin. "I have brought a letter certainly, but this time there can be no mistake, as it is for a lady." "If it is for Madame Coutance, you had better come to the house." Madame had just returned from riding with Marie, but she at once received the messenger, and then sent him to obtain some much-needed refreshment. Breaking the seal, she read the letter hurriedly, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.