at the helpless state to which she was reduced.
Nevertheless, knowing the weakness of her husband, and more particularly
his cupidity, she did not despair of bringing him round to her purpose.

"Ah, you are a cardinalist, then, monsieur, are you?" cried she; "and
you serve the party of those who maltreat your wife and insult your
queen?"

"Private interests are as nothing before the interests of all. I am for
those who save the state," said Bonacieux, emphatically.

"And what do you know about the state you talk of?" said Mme.
Bonacieux, shrugging her shoulders. "Be satisfied with being a plain,
straightforward citizen, and turn to that side which offers the most
advantages."

"Eh, eh!" said Bonacieux, slapping a plump, round bag, which returned a
sound a money; "what do you think of this, Madame Preacher?"

"Whence comes that money?"

"You do not guess?"

"From the cardinal?"

"From him, and from my friend the Comte de Rochefort."

"The Comte de Rochefort! Why it was he who carried me off!"

"That may be, madame!"

"And you receive silver from that man?"

"Have you not said that that abduction was entirely political?"

"Yes; but that abduction had for its object the betrayal of my mistress,
to draw from me by torture confessions that might compromise the honor,
and perhaps the life, of my august mistress."

"Madame," replied Bonacieux, "your august mistress is a perfidious
Spaniard, and what the cardinal does is well done."

"Monsieur," said the young woman, "I know you to be cowardly,
avaricious, and foolish, but I never till now believed you infamous!"

"Madame," said Bonacieux, who had never seen his wife in a passion, and
who recoiled before this conjugal anger, "madame, what do you say?"

"I say you are a miserable creature!" continued Mme. Bonacieux, who saw
she was regaining some little influence over her husband. "You meddle
with politics, do you--and still more, with cardinalist politics? Why,
you sell yourself, body and soul, to the demon, the devil, for money!"

"No, to the cardinal."

"It's the same thing," cried the young woman. "Who calls Richelieu calls
Satan."

"Hold your tongue, hold your tongue, madame! You may be overheard."

"Yes, you are right; I should be ashamed for anyone to know your
baseness."

"But what do you require of me, then? Let us see."

"I have told you. You must depart instantly, monsieur. You must
accomplish loyally the commission with which I deign to