France -- History -- Louis XIV, 1643-1715 -- Fiction
At the same time he turned round in his ruelle, the curtains of which,
in falling, concealed the bed. The cardinal, nevertheless, did not lose
sight of the conspirators.
“M. le Comte de Guiche,” said he, in a fretful voice, whilst putting
on, behind the curtain, his dressing-gown, with the assistance of
Bernouin.
“I am here, my lord,” said the young man, as he approached.
“Take my cards, you are lucky. Win a little money for me of these
gentlemen.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The young man sat down at the table from which the king withdrew to
talk with the two queens. A serious game was commenced between the
comte and several rich courtiers. In the meantime Philip was discussing
the questions of dress with the Chevalier de Lorraine, and they had
ceased to hear the rustling of the cardinal’s silk robe from behind the
curtain. His eminence had followed Bernouin into the closet adjoining
the bedroom.
CHAPTER 40.
An Affair of State
The cardinal, on passing into his cabinet, found the Comte de la Fere,
who was waiting for him, engaged in admiring a very fine Raphael placed
over a sideboard covered with plate. His eminence came in softly,
lightly, and silently as a shadow, and surprised the countenance of the
comte, as he was accustomed to do, pretending to divine by the simple
expression of the face of his interlocutor what would be the result of
the conversation.
But this time Mazarin was foiled in his expectation: he read nothing
upon the face of Athos, not even the respect he was accustomed to see
on all faces. Athos was dressed in black, with a simple lacing of
silver. He wore the Holy Ghost, the Garter, and the Golden Fleece,
three orders of such importance, that a king alone, or else a player,
could wear them at once.
Mazarin rummaged a long time in his somewhat troubled memory to recall
the name he ought to give to this icy figure, but he did not succeed.
“I am told,” said he, at length, “you have a message from England for
me.”
And he sat down, dismissing Bernouin, who, in his quality of secretary,
was getting his pen ready.
“On the part of his majesty, the king of England, yes, your eminence.”
“You speak very good French for an Englishman monsieur,” said Mazarin,
graciously, looking through his fingers at the Holy Ghost, Garter, and
Golden Fleece, but more particularly at the face of the messenger.
“I am not an Englishman, but a Frenchman, monsieur le cardinal,”
replied Athos.
“It is remarkable that the king of England should choose a Frenchman
for his ambassador; it is an excellent augury. Your name, monsieur, if
you please.”
“Comte de la Fere,” replied Athos, bowing more slightly than the
ceremonial and pride of the all-powerful minister required.
Mazarin bent his shoulders, as if to say:—
“I do not know that name.”
Athos did not alter his carriage.
“And you come, monsieur,” continued Mazarin, “to tell me——”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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