more widely, until, after a century
and a half, the Third Estate met again and refused to present petitions
kneeling; and when King and nobles put on their hats, the commons put on
theirs, and when that old brilliant stroke was again made, and the hall
was closed and filled with busy carpenters and upholsterers, the
deputies of the people swore that great tennis-court oath which blasted
French tyranny.

But something great was done immediately. To that suffering nation a
great man was revealed; for when the clergy pressed their requests they
chose as their orator a young man only twenty-nine years of age, the
Bishop of Lucon, Armand Jean du Plessis de Richelieu.

He spoke well. His thoughts were clear, his words well pointed, his
bearing firm. He had been bred a soldier, and so had strengthened his
will; afterward he had been made a scholar and so had strengthened his
mind. He grappled with the problems given him in that stormy assembly
with such force that he seemed about to do something; but just then came
that day of the court ball, and Richelieu turned away like the rest.

But men had seen him and heard him. Forget him they could not. From that
tremendous farce, then, France had gained directly one thing at least,
and that was a sight of Richelieu.

The year, after the States-General, wore away in the old vile fashion.
Conde revolted again, and this time he managed to scare the Protestants
into revolt with him. The daring of the nobles was greater than ever.
They even attacked the young King's train as he journeyed to Bordeaux,
and another compromise had to be wearily built in the Treaty of Loudun.
By this Conde was again bought off--but this time only by a bribe of a
million and a half of livres. The other nobles were also paid
enormously, and on making a reckoning it was found that this compromise
had cost the King four millions and the country twenty millions. The
nation had also to give into the hands of the nobles some of its richest
cities and strongest fortresses.

Immediately after this compromise Conde returned to Paris, loud, strong,
jubilant, defiant, bearing himself like a king. Soon he and his revolted
again; but just at that moment Concini happened to remember Richelieu.
The young bishop was called and set at work.

Richelieu grasped the rebellion at once. In broad daylight he seized
Conde and shut him up in the Bastille; other noble leaders he declared
guilty of treason and degraded them; he set