“Be kind enough to pardon me, madame; but in this circumstance I am but the instrument which the king employs. Has not his Majesty just left you, and has he not himself asked you to prepare for this visit?” “Search, then, monsieur! I am a criminal, as it appears. Estafania, give up the keys of my drawers and my desks.” For form’s sake the chancellor paid a visit to the pieces of furniture named; but he well knew that it was not in a piece of furniture that the queen would place the important letter she had written that day. When the chancellor had opened and shut twenty times the drawers of the secretaries, it became necessary, whatever hesitation he might experience—it became necessary, I say, to come to the conclusion of the affair; that is to say, to search the queen herself. The chancellor advanced, therefore, toward Anne of Austria, and said with a very perplexed and embarrassed air, “And now it remains for me to make the principal examination.” “What is that?” asked the queen, who did not understand, or rather was not willing to understand. “His majesty is certain that a letter has been written by you during the day; he knows that it has not yet been sent to its address. This letter is not in your table nor in your secretary; and yet this letter must be somewhere.” “Would you dare to lift your hand to your queen?” said Anne of Austria, drawing herself up to her full height, and fixing her eyes upon the chancellor with an expression almost threatening. “I am a faithful subject of the king, madame, and all that his Majesty commands I shall do.” “Well, it is true!” said Anne of Austria; “and the spies of the cardinal have served him faithfully. I have written a letter today; that letter is not yet gone. The letter is here.” And the queen laid her beautiful hand on her bosom. “Then give me that letter, madame,” said the chancellor. “I will give it to none but the king, monsieur,” said Anne. “If the king had desired that the letter should be given to him, madame, he would have demanded it of you himself. But I repeat to you, I am charged with reclaiming it; and if you do not give it up—” “Well?” “He has, then, charged me to take it from you.” “How! What do you say?” “That my orders go far, madame; and that I am authorized to seek for the suspected paper, even on the person of your Majesty.” “What horror!” cried the queen. “Be kind enough, then, madame, to act more compliantly.” “The conduct is infamously violent! Do you know that, monsieur?” “The king commands it, madame; excuse me.” “I will not suffer it! No, no, I would rather die!” cried the queen, in whom the imperious blood of Spain and Austria began to rise.