Apprehending, probably, that his treasonable duplicity would soon be detected, Auvergne, by challenging the count of Soissons, artfully contrived to be banished from court. Soissons complained, and Henry, to satisfy him, exiled the challenger to the province whence he derived his title. This was what Charles of Valois had aimed at; for, in that province, his possessions, his popularity, and the rugged nature of the country, would contribute to secure him from danger. While he was there, a letter written by him, to one of his friends at Paris, was intercepted, and, though its language was obscure, it gave the king reason to believe that, under pretence of betraying Spain, the count was in reality plotting with it. Henry immediately summoned him to return to court. Auvergne was however aware of the reason and the danger. “It is only for the purpose of bringing my head to the scaffold,” said he, “that I am called to Paris.” The mere idea of being re-immured in “that great heap of stones,” as he called the Bastile, made him shudder. Neither a safe-conduct, nor a formal pardon, which were offered to him, nor the assurances of several persons, whom the king sent to him, could remove his suspicions. To avoid being taken by surprise, he lived in the woods, and the most solitary spots, and kept dogs and sentinels continually on the watch. Yet he was at last circumvented. His regiment of cavalry was purposely ordered to pass near his abode, and he could not deny himself the gratification of inspecting it. In this pleasure he thought he might safely indulge, as he was resolved that he would neither dismount nor be surrounded, and was on the back of a fleet horse, that could gallop ten leagues without stopping. He was, nevertheless, adroitly seized, and carried off to the Bastile, where he was placed in the chamber that Biron had inhabited. On his way thither he had preserved his serenity, but, when he entered the chamber, the remembrance of his friend drew from him a few tears. He soon, however, recovered his equanimity, and jocosely told the governor, “there was no inn at Paris so bad that he would not rather go to bed in it, than in this building.” As soon as Auvergne was secured, d’Entragues was arrested and lodged in the Concièrgerie, and the marchioness of Verneuil was placed under a guard in her own house.