“I do know him,” answers the Queen. “Do you know also that this gentleman, the Comte de Chalais, has been lately arrested at Nantes, and is now lying in the prison of the Bastille, accused of having treacherously conspired against the sacred person of his Majesty, with the design of placing on the throne, at his death, Monseigneur, Duc d’Orléans--brother of the King; and that the Comte de Chalais avers and declares, before witnesses, that he acted by your order and by your counsel? What answer have you to make to this, Madame?” “That it is false, and unsupported by any evidence whatever, and that you, Cardinal Richelieu, know that it is false.” Then Anne of Austria raises her hands towards the crucifix hanging before her--“By the blessed wounds of our Lord Jesus, I swear that I never knew that the life of the King, my husband, was threatened; if it were so, it was concealed from me.” A stifled groan is heard from the King. Both the Chancellor and the Archbishop appear greatly impressed by the Queen’s solemn declaration, and whisper together. Richelieu alone is unmoved. Then the Queen rises, and for the first time, turns her large eyes full upon the Cardinal, over whose frame a momentary tremor passes. “It was of another plot that the Comte de Chalais spoke; and of another assassination, not that of the King. His Majesty himself--if I mistake not--knew and did not disapprove of _this other_ project, and of removing _him_ whom I mean. Nevertheless I shrank from the proposal with horror; I expressly forbade all bloodshed, although it would have removed a deadly enemy from my path.” And the Queen, while she speaks, fixes her undaunted gaze full on the Cardinal, who casts down his eyes on the papers he holds in his hands. “Let his Majesty confront me with Chalais; he will confirm the truth of what I say.” Anne of Austria stops to watch the effect of her words. Something like a groan again escapes from the King; he pulls at his beard, and moves uneasily in his chair, as the Cardinal’s lynx eyes are directed, for an instant, towards him with a malignant glare. The Cardinal stoops to consult some documents that lie upon the table, and for a few moments not a word was uttered. Then resuming his former placid voice and manner, Richelieu faces the Queen, and proceeds:-- “Further, Madame, it is averred, and it is believed by his Majesty, that you, forgetting the duty of a wife, and the loyalty of a Queen, have exchanged love-tokens with the said prince of the blood, Gaston, Duc d’Orléans, now for his manifest treason fled into Spain,”--at these words, to which she listens with evident horror, Anne clasps her hands;--“further, that you, Madame, and your lady of the bedchamber, Marie de Lorraine, Duchesse de Chevreuse, did conspire, with Chalais and others, for this unholy purpose.”