the most recent events.

"It is time to make a fresh move, monsieur," he said mockingly. "With
so many brave Frenchmen to lead us we have no need of a beggarly
foreigner. The first step was to join our forces, which made us so
strong that Mazarin fled. By now, no doubt, Conde is out of prison."

"Then you are all friends together! How long will that last?"

"How long, monsieur? What a question!"

"Till you come to divide the spoils, I suppose?"

Pillot's eyes twinkled, and he answered roguishly, "Monsieur has
learned the ways of the world. It is true thieves often quarrel over
their booty, but on the other hand they do not share it with their
victim's friends."

"What does that mean?"

"Simply that Paris at present is not a suitable place for a _Mazarin_.
While dogs are growling over a bone, they are apt to snap at a
passer-by."

"One should wait till they have turned to fighting among themselves," I
remarked.

"If one has the patience, monsieur!"

"Oh, the quarrel soon begins. In less than a month's time you will be
flying at each other's throats, and Mazarin will return with more power
than ever."

"You are mistaken there, monsieur. Whatever else happens, we have
finished with the Italian. Were he to set foot in Paris again, the
people would tear him limb from limb."

"I suppose De Retz pays you well for your services?"

"I have little to do with the Abbe now," he said. "I am in the service
of monsieur's cousin, and a man could have no better master."

That night when the household had retired to rest, I sat at my bedroom
window looking out over the park. It was a beautiful scene; everything
was hushed and still, and the quiet earth lay bathed in silvery
moonlight. Pillot's talk had set me thinking. My wound had completely
healed, and I felt strong enough to take a further part in the
struggle. The situation was, however, puzzling. Mazarin's downfall
had left me without a patron, and I could not join his enemies, most of
whom, utterly and heartlessly selfish, cared for nothing but their own
welfare. Their senseless squabbles were dragging France through the
mire, and I longed to see my country strong and powerful.

From the dwarf's remarks I gathered that Conde intended going to Paris
as the Queen's friend, but this could be nothing more than play-acting
of the flimsiest character. It was as if a housebreaker took it upon
himself to protect the building he had just robbed.

Refle