ess page, he asked him for the letter which
he said he had to give to M. de Cinq-Mars when he should have escaped.
Olivier had carried it in his pocket for two months. He gave it him. "It
is from one prisoner to another," said he, "for the Chevalier de jars,
on leaving the Bastille, sent it me from one of his companions in
captivity."

"Ma foi!" said Gondi, "there may be some important secret in it for our
friends. I'll open it. You ought to have thought of it before. Ah, bah!
it is from old Bassompierre. Let us read it.

MY DEAR CHILD: I learn from the depths of the Bastille, where I
still remain, that you are conspiring against the tyrant Richelieu,
who does not cease to humiliate our good old nobility and the
parliaments, and to sap the foundations of the edifice upon which
the State reposes. I hear that the nobles are taxed and condemned
by petty judges, contrary to the privileges of their condition,
forced to the arriere-ban, despite the ancient customs."

"Ah! the old dotard!" interrupted the page, laughing immoderately.

"Not so foolish as you imagine, only he is a little behindhand for our
affair."

"I can not but approve this generous project, and I pray you give me
to wot all your proceedings--"

"Ah! the old language of the last reign!" said Olivier. "He can't say
'Make me acquainted with your proceedings,' as we now say."

"Let me read, for Heaven's sake!" said the Abbe; "a hundred years hence
they'll laugh at our phrases." He continued:

"I can counsel you, notwithstanding my great age, in relating to you
what happened to me in 1560."

"Ah, faith! I've not time to waste in reading it all. Let us see the
end.

"When I remember my dining at the house of Madame la Marechale
d'Effiat, your mother, and ask myself what has become of all the
guests, I am really afflicted. My poor Puy-Laurens has died at
Vincennes, of grief at being forgotten by Monsieur in his prison;
De Launay killed in a duel, and I am grieved at it, for although I
was little satisfied with my arrest, he did it with courtesy, and I
have always thought him a gentleman. As for me, I am under lock and
key until the death of M. le Cardinal. Ah, my child! we were
thirteen at table. We must not laugh at old superstitions. Thank
God that you are the only one to whom evil has not arrived!"

"There again!" said Olivier, laughing heartily; and this time the Abbe
de Gondi could no