a conspiracy. You will not avow
that you are concerned in it."

"I, Monseigneur! Excuse me to all the world, since the kingdom is
already in it, and I am of the kingdom. And who would not sign his name
after that of Messieurs de Bouillon and Cinq-Mars?"

"After, perhaps, not before," said Gaston, fixing his eyes upon
Fontrailles more keenly than he had expected.

The latter hesitated a moment.

"Well, then, what would Monseigneur do should I tell him the names after
which he could sign his?"

"Ha! ha! this is amusing," answered the Prince, laughing; "know you not
that above mine there are not many? I see but one."

"And if there be one, will Monseigneur promise to sign that of Gaston
beneath it?"

"Ah, parbleu! with all my heart. I risk nothing there, for I see none
but that of the King, who surely is not of the party."

"Well, from this moment permit us," said Montresor, "to take you at
your word, and deign at present to consent to two things only: to see
Monsieur de Bouillon in the Queen's apartments, and Monsieur the master
of the horse at the King's palace."

"Agreed!" said Monsieur, gayly, tapping Montresor on the shoulder. "I
will to-day wait on my sister-in-law at her toilette, and I will invite
my brother to hunt the stag with me at Chambord."

The two friends asked nothing further, and were themselves surprised
at their work. They never had seen so much resolution in their chief.
Accordingly, fearing to lead him to a topic which might divert him from
the path he had adopted, they hastened to turn the conversation upon
other subjects, and retired in delight, leaving as their last words in
his ear that they relied upon his keeping his promise.

CHAPTER XV. THE ALCOVE

While a prince was thus reassured with difficulty by those who
surrounded him, and allowed them to see a terror which might have proved
contagious, a princess more exposed to accidents, more isolated by the
indifference of her husband, weaker by nature and by the timidity which
is the result of the absence of happiness, on her side set the example
of the calmest courage and the most pious resignation, and tranquillized
her terrified suite; this was the Queen. Having slept hardly an hour,
she heard shrill cries behind the doors and the thick tapestries of her
chamber. She ordered her women to open the door, and the Duchesse de
Chevreuse, in her night attire, and wrapped in a great cloak, fell,
nearly fainting, at the foot of her