No event could have been more unfortunate for the ambitious Connétable than the successful defence of Montauban. Louis loved war for its own sake, but he was also jealous of success; and he felt with great bitterness this first mortification. He had, moreover, become conscious that he was a mere puppet in the hands of his ambitious favourite; and he was already becoming weary of a moral vassalage of which he had been unable to calculate the extent. As the brilliant Connétable flashed past him, glittering with gold, the plumes of his helmet dancing in the wind, and the housings of his charger sparkling with gems, he looked after him with a contemptuous scowl, and bade the nobles among whom he stood admire the regal bearing of _le Roi Luynes_; nor was he the less bitter because he could not suppress a consciousness of his own disability to dispense with the services of the man whom he thus criticized. Upon one point Louis XIII greatly resembled his mother; with all his arrogance and love of power, he possessed no innate strength of purpose, and constantly required extraneous support; but it was already easy for those about him to perceive that fear alone continued to link him with the once all-powerful favourite. Rumour said, moreover, that superadded to the jealousy which the King entertained of the daily increasing assumption of the Connétable there existed another cause of discontent. The Duchesse de Luynes was, as we have said, both beautiful and fascinating, and Louis had not been proof against her attractions, although his ideas of gallantry never overstepped the bounds of the most scrupulous propriety. The lady had on her part welcomed his homage with more warmth than discretion, and the favourite had not failed to reproach her for a levity by which he considered himself dishonoured. Madame de Luynes had retorted in no measured terms, and the young sovereign, who detested finding himself involved in affairs of this nature, and who had, moreover, reason to believe that he was not the only individual favoured by the smiles of the coquettish beauty, soon evinced an aversion towards both husband and wife, which encouraged the enemies of De Luynes to hint that the reverse which his Majesty had lately suffered at Montauban might be entirely attributed to the incapacity and selfishness of the Connétable. This opinion soothed the wounded vanity of the King, and he talked vehemently of his regret for the brave men who had fallen, among whom was the Duc de Mayenne, and bitterly complained of the dishonour to which he had been subjected; while in order to revenge himself at once upon De Luynes and the Duchess, he condescended to the meanness of informing the former that the Prince de Joinville was enamoured of his wife, and subsequently boasted to Bassompierre that he had done so. The Marquis listened in astonishment to this extraordinary communication, and in reply ventured to assure his Majesty that he had committed a serious error in seeking