redoubled, and the uneasiness of the
King became visible.

"Yes, there is one person, Sire, whom I have always loved, despite her
wrong toward you, and the banishment which the affairs of the kingdom
forced me to bring about for her; a person to whom I have owed much,
and who should be very dear to you, notwithstanding her armed attempts
against you; a person, in a word, whom I implore you to recall from
exile--the Queen Marie de Medicis, your mother!"

The King uttered an involuntary exclamation, so little did he expect to
hear that name. A repressed agitation suddenly appeared upon every face.
All waited in silence the King's reply. Louis XIII looked for a long
time at his old minister without speaking, and this look decided the
fate of France; in that instant he called to mind all the indefatigable
services of Richelieu, his unbounded devotion, his wonderful capacity,
and was surprised at himself for having wished to part with him. He felt
deeply affected at this request, which had probed for the exact cause of
his anger at the bottom of his heart, and uprooted it, thus taking from
his hands the only weapon he had against his old servant. Filial love
brought words of pardon to his lips and tears into his eyes. Rejoicing
to grant what he desired most of all things in the world, he extended
his hands to the Duke with all the nobleness and kindliness of a
Bourbon. The Cardinal bowed and respectfully kissed it; and his heart,
which should have burst with remorse, only swelled in the joy of a
haughty triumph.

The King, deeply touched, abandoning his hand to him, turned gracefully
toward his court and said, with a trembling voice:

"We often deceive ourselves, gentlemen, and especially in our knowledge
of so great a politician as this."

"I hope he will never leave us, since his heart is as good as his head."

Cardinal de la Vallette instantly seized the sleeve of the King's
mantle, and kissed it with all the ardor of a lover, and the young
Mazarin did much the same with Richelieu himself, assuming, with
admirable Italian suppleness, an expression radiant with joy and
tenderness. Two streams of flatterers hastened, one toward the King, the
other toward the minister; the former group, not less adroit than the
second, although less direct, addressed to the Prince thanks which could
be heard by the minister, and burned at the feet of the one incense
which was intended for the other. As for Richelieu, bowing and smiling