ace, or, wandering through the charming grounds,
strolled by the margin of the silvery stream skirting the chateau.
The bitter strife of clashing interests, the tumult and horrors of the
capital, did not extend to this peaceful spot; it might have been the
heart of another country. The peasants were courteous and respectful,
toiling patiently like oxen in yoke. As yet they had not learned their
power, and the noble was still a master to be obeyed without murmur or
complaint. Much to her aunt's annoyance, Marie went among them,
smiling pleasantly, speaking kind words, bearing help to the
distressed, soothing the sick, and treating them all, in fact, like
human beings. At Aunay she was really happy, and her face wore an
expression of content which one never saw in Paris.
"I could wish to live in the country always," she remarked once, "it is
so peaceful after noisy, brawling Paris."
So the days glided by till there came to us in the chateau strange
echoes of the outside world. The wildest rumours were repeated by the
gentry of the neighbouring estates. One day we heard Conde was
marching on Paris with ten thousand soldiers; the next that he had been
poisoned in his cell at Havre. Some asserted that Mazarin, having made
peace with De Retz, had triumphed over all his enemies, others that
Orleans had hanged the Cardinal out of hand.
These tales agitated Madame Coutance, and I knew she longed to be back
in the midst of the storm. While I remained at Aunay this was
impossible, but, in spite of her desire, she would not let me depart.
"You will become a vegetable at Vancey," she said, "and I want to push
your fortunes. Mazarin must soon be beaten, and you shall join the
great prince. I have influence with him, and will use it."
Thanking her warmly, I pointed out that, having pledged my word to
Mazarin, I could not accept the prince's favours.
"Bah!" she exclaimed, "no one can help a fallen favourite!"
"Then there is the Queen-Mother; I cannot range myself among her
enemies."
"You are very simple," said madame smiling. "Anne of Austria has no
enemies; we all bow to her and the little King. Conde is her chief
friend," and with that she went away, leaving me to think over the
matter.
CHAPTER X.
Pillot to the Rescue.
Every day now the rumour of Mazarin's defeat grew louder, but, knowing
the man well, I doubted if all France could disturb his position. And
though I felt little personal l
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