"Another broken reed, my friend! If rumour speaks truly, he has made a bargain with Conde, and will support him even in open rebellion. By the way, do not wander about the city too much at night." "Why?" I asked, looking at him in surprise. "Because you have made two bitter enemies--Maubranne and Peleton. They have both joined De Retz, and Peleton will work you all the mischief he can. He is a dangerous man." "A fig for Peleton! He is a coward." "A coward can often strike a sure blow in the dark." We were in the streets by this time, and, passing with difficulty through the crowds of people, I was strongly reminded of the evening when I accompanied the now exiled minister to the house of the astrologer. The riff-raff of the city were out in large numbers; the hawkers were crying their literary wares; the Black Mantles had gathered in knots to guard their property; while the young bloods swaggered along, laughing and joking, but toying with their swords as if longing for a chance to use them. On the previous occasion the rabble had roared themselves hoarse with cries against Mazarin and the Queen-Mother; now they shouted with equal vigour against Conde and his friends. "The Abbe is still alive," remarked Raoul, as we pushed a way through the crowd. "Is this his doing?" "Every bit of it, and your cousin Henri makes an able lieutenant. De Retz is a dangerous enemy; all the blackguards in the city are under his thumb. You will find that he will drive the prince out of Paris before he has finished." "What are they doing to that fellow yonder? Why, it is Joli, and they are making him cry 'Down with Conde!'" Raoul burst out laughing. "Joli is Conde's henchman!" he exclaimed, "and a week ago he had the mob at his call. To-morrow as likely as not the idiots will be bawling for Mazarin." "The nobles have set them a good example. There goes Joli. I did not think he could run so fast. But these fellows are becoming too daring. See, they have stopped a carriage at the corner of the street, and are threatening the occupants." "More of Conde's friends," said Raoul lightly. "Fortunately, Joli has put the crowd in good humour, and there will be no mischief done unless those inside are obstinate." "Listen. There is one woman not easily frightened!" and above the turmoil caused by the _canaille_ rose a defiant "_Vive le Prince!_" "Imbecile!" cried Raoul angrily, "they will tear her in pieces!" "She has plenty of pluck, whoever she is!" I replied. The next instant we had drawn our swords; for the woman in the carriage who had so proudly defied the ruffians of Paris was Madame Coutance, and by her side, pale yet undismayed, sat Marie.