“Very good,” said the queen, “be as grateful as you like, it does not implicate me; you are here safe and sound, that is all I wished for; you are not only welcome, but welcome back.” “Yes, madame; but I only came back on one condition—that I would transmit to your majesty the will of the people.” “The will!” exclaimed the queen, frowning. “Oh! oh! monsieur maréchal, you must indeed have found yourself in wondrous peril to have undertaken so strange a commission!” The irony with which these words were uttered did not escape the maréchal. “Pardon, madame,” he said, “I am not a lawyer, I am a mere soldier, and probably, therefore, I do not quite comprehend the value of certain words; I ought to have said the wishes, and not the will, of the people. As for what you do me the honor to say, I presume you mean I was afraid?” The queen smiled. “Well, then, madame, yes, I did feel fear; and though I have been through twelve pitched battles and I cannot count how many charges and skirmishes, I own for the third time in my life I was afraid. Yes, and I would rather face your majesty, however threatening your smile, than face those demons who accompanied me hither and who sprung from I know not whence, unless from deepest hell.” (“Bravo,” said D’Artagnan in a whisper to Porthos; “well answered.”) “Well,” said the queen, biting her lips, whilst her courtiers looked at each other with surprise, “what is the desire of my people?” “That Broussel shall be given up to them, madame.” “Never!” said the queen, “never!” “Your majesty is mistress,” said La Meilleraie, retreating a few steps. “Where are you going, maréchal?” asked the queen. “To give your majesty’s reply to those who await it.” “Stay, maréchal; I will not appear to parley with rebels.” “Madame, I have pledged my word, and unless you order me to be arrested I shall be forced to return.” Anne of Austria’s eyes shot glances of fire. “Oh! that is no impediment, sir,” said she; “I have had greater men than you arrested—Guitant!” Mazarin sprang forward. “Madame,” said he, “if I dared in my turn advise——” “Would it be to give up Broussel, sir? If so, you can spare yourself the trouble.” “No,” said Mazarin; “although, perhaps, that counsel is as good as any other.” “Then what may it be?” “To call for monsieur le coadjuteur.” “The coadjutor!” cried the queen, “that dreadful mischief maker! It is he who has raised all this revolt.” “The more reason,” said Mazarin; “if he has raised it he can put it down.” “And hold, madame,” suggested Comminges, who was near a window, out of which he could see; “hold, the moment is a happy one, for there he is now, giving his blessing in the square of the Palais Royal.” The queen sprang to the window. “It is true,” she said, “the arch hypocrite—see!”