Richelieu's ashy cheek grew still a shade paler. It was the first time for many a year he had undergone rebuke. He felt that trammels with which he had so long held the King enthralled were but as green lithes twined round the limbs of a giant. He saw that the vast fabric of his power was raised upon a foundation of unsteady sand, and that even then it trembled to its very base. "Monsieur La Rivière, answer the King!" continued Louis, in a dignified tone. "What says the Queen to the request of our Council, that she would command her Chamberlain to answer those questions, in regard to which he has a scruple on her account?" "Her Majesty says, Sire," answered La Rivière, "that she is most willing to do any thing that will please your Majesty; and she has not only ordered me to command, in her name, Monsieur de Blenau to inform the Council of every thing he knows concerning her conduct; but has also written this letter, with her own hand, to the same effect." And advancing to the table, he bent his knee before the King, and presented the document of which he was the bearer. Louis took the letter, and read it through. "This looks not like a guilty conscience," said he, frowning upon Richelieu. "Give that to Monsieur de Blenau," he continued to one of the officers. "There, Sir Count, is your warrant to speak freely; and though we think you carry your sense of honour too far, so as to make it dangerous to yourself, and almost rebellious towards us, we cannot help respecting the principle, even though it be in excess."