My Sword's My Fortune. Herbert Hayens

will be returned to him," said the Cardinal, "and he will await me with the Guards."

      "Ma foi! you are a lucky youngster!" exclaimed my guide when we were out of earshot; "Mazarin has quite taken to you. I have never known any one jump into his favour so quickly."

      The soldiers still stood at attention in the lower room, and the officer on being informed of the Cardinal's orders returned my pistols and helped me to buckle on my sword.

      "A pleasanter task," he remarked, "than escorting you to the Bastille, where I expected you would pass the night. Have you joined the Cardinal's service?"

      "More or less," I answered laughing. "I hardly know how things stand till M. Belloc returns."

      "Are you acquainted with him?"

      "He is one of my father's chief friends, perhaps the only one. I inquired for him the other day at the Palais Royal, but your men are not too affable to a stranger. Perhaps they would have been less surly but for my shabby mantle."

      Before he had time to reply, Mazarin made his appearance, and, after issuing some orders, requested me to follow him. The street was deserted, the people were in bed, there was no sign of any troops, and I could not help thinking how completely the Cardinal had placed himself in my power. He, however, appeared to anticipate no danger, but walked steadily, leaning on my arm.

      "The night air is cold," he said presently, drawing his black mantle closer round him—and after a pause, "Do you know your way? Ah, I had forgotten. Your home is near Vançey?"

      "At Vançey, my grandsire would have answered, your Eminence, but times have changed, and we with them."

      "It is hard work climbing the ladder, but harder still to stand on the top," remarked the Cardinal, and he asked me to tell him something of my family history. So, as we walked through the silent streets of the slumbering city, I described sadly how the broad acres of my forefathers had dwindled to a solitary farm.

      We were in sight of the Palais Royal when I finished the melancholy narrative, and Mazarin stopped. The night was already past, and, in the light of the early dawn, we saw each other's faces distinctly. It may have been mere fancy, or the result of the severe strain on my nerves, or, more simple still, the manner in which the half light played on his face, but it seemed to me that the powerful Cardinal had become strangely agitated.

      "Did you hear anything?" he asked suddenly, pressing my arm. "Listen, there it is again," and from our right came the sound of a low, clear whistle.

      "It is a signal of some sort," I said.

      "Yes," he exclaimed, "but fortunately it was given just too late. I must be more careful in future. Come! The sooner we are inside the gate the better," and he walked so quickly that I had much ado to keep pace with him.

      Passing the sentries at the gate, we crossed the courtyard, and entered the Palais Royal through a narrow door leading to a private staircase. Turning to the left at the top, Mazarin led the way along what appeared to be an endless succession of corridors. Soldiers were stationed here and there, but, instantly recognising the cloaked figure, they saluted and we passed on.

      At last Mazarin paused, and blowing softly on a silver whistle was instantly joined by a man in civilian attire.

      "Find M. de Lalande food and a bed," exclaimed the Cardinal briskly. "For the present he is my guest, and will remain within call. Has M. Belloc returned?"

      "No, my Lord."

      "Let him attend me immediately upon his arrival. Where are the reports?"

      "On your table, my Lord."

      "Very good. See to M. de Lalande, and then wait in the ante-chamber. You may be wanted."

      The man, who, I imagine, was a kind of under secretary, made a low bow, and motioned me to follow him, which I did gladly, being both hungry and tired. Showing me into a large room, he rang the bell and ordered supper. The excitement had not destroyed my appetite, and I did ample justice to the meal. Then, passing to an inner chamber, I undressed and went to bed, to sleep as soundly as if I had still been under my father's roof.

      For three days I saw nothing more of the Cardinal. All sorts of people came and went—powerful nobles, soldiers, a few bourgeois, and a number of men whom I classed in my own mind as spies. They crowded the ante-room for hours, waiting till the minister had leisure to receive them.

      On the fourth morning I was lounging in the corridor, having nothing better to do, when a soldier passed into the ante-room. His clothes were soiled and muddy; he was booted and spurred, and had apparently just returned from a long journey.

      "M. Belloc!" I exclaimed, but he did not hear me, and before I could reach him he had gone into Mazarin's room, much to the disgust of those who had been waiting since early morning for an audience.

      As he remained closeted with the Cardinal for more than an hour, it was evident he brought important news, and the people in the ante-room wondered what it could be.

      "He is a clever fellow," remarked one. "I know him well. No one has greater influence with Mazarin."

      "The Cardinal is brewing a surprise," whispered another. "Paris will have a chance to gossip in a day or two."

      "It is rumoured," continued the first, "that De Retz nearly found himself in the Bastille only the other night."

      "'Twould have served him right, too; he is a regular monkey for mischief. I wonder the Cardinal has put up with his tricks so long."

      Thus they chattered among themselves till at last the door opened, and the secretary came out. A dozen men pressed forward eagerly, but, making his way through them, he approached the corner where I sat.

      "M. de Lalande," he said, "the Cardinal wishes to see you."

      I jumped up and followed him, amidst cold looks and scarcely concealed sneers at my shabby dress. It has often astonished me that people show such contempt for an old coat.

      Mazarin stood with his back to the fireplace talking to my father's old friend.

      "This is the youngster," said he, as I entered. "Do you know him?"

      "Ay," answered Belloc, "I know him well, and I warrant he will prove as faithful a follower as any who draws your pay. I have yet to hear of a De Lalande deserting his flag. Even Henri, scamp though he may be, is loyal to his party. When De Retz sinks, Henri de Lalande will sink with him."

      "Ma foi!" exclaimed the Cardinal, "such a fellow would be well worth gaining over!"

      "You would find him proof against bribes or threats. And I warrant this lad is of the same mettle."

      "Your friend gives you a high character, M. de Lalande," said the Cardinal smiling.

      "I hope he will not be disappointed in me, your Eminence."

      "Remember you are responsible for him," continued Mazarin, turning to the soldier. "Let his name be placed on your books; no doubt I shall soon find him something to do. Now I must carry your despatches to Her Majesty."

      "Come with me, Albert," said Belloc, "and tell me all the news. You have made a good start; Mazarin speaks highly of your intelligence. This way! I am going to my quarters; I have been in the saddle for the last few days."

      Roland Belloc was decidedly a man of influence at the Palais Royal. Officers and soldiers saluted respectfully as he passed, while he in turn had a smile and a nod for every one.

      He had two rooms in a corner of the Palace, one of which served as a bedroom. The other was sparsely furnished, while its principal ornaments were spurs and gauntlets, swords and pistols, which hung on the walls.

      As soon as he had changed his clothing he sat down, and bade me explain how I came to be in Paris. His brow darkened when I related Maubranne's insults, and though he made no remark, I knew he was terribly angry.

      "You have had quite a series of adventures," he said at length,