131

THE HOUSE ON THE WALL, 152

HUNT THE OWLER, 177

THE TWO PAGES, 194

PART II

THE DIARY OF A STATESMAN

EPISODE OF THE FOWL IN THE POT, 213

EPISODE OF THE BOXWOOD FIRE, 238

EPISODE OF THE SNOWBALL, 266

PART III

KING TERROR

A DAUGHTER OF THE GIRONDE, 295

IN THE NAME OF THE LAW, 329

PART I

IN KINGS' BYWAYS

FLORE

(1643)

It was about a month after my marriage--and third clerk to the most
noble the Bishop of Beauvais, and even admitted on occasions to write in
his presence and prepare his minutes, who should marry if I might
not?--it was about a month after my marriage, I say, that the
thunderbolt, to which I have referred, fell and shattered my fortunes. I
rose one morning--they were firing guns for the victory of Rocroy, I
remember, so that it must have been eight weeks or more after the death
of the late king, and the glorious rising of the Sun of France--and who
as happy as I? A summer morning, Monsieur, and bright, and I had all I
wished. The river as it sparkled and rippled against the piers of the
Pont Neuf far below, the wet roofs that twinkled under our garret
window, were not more brilliant than my lord the Bishop's fortunes: and
as is the squirrel so is the tail. Of a certainty, I was happy that
morning. I thought of the little hut under the pine wood at Gabas in
Bearn, where I was born, and of my father cobbling by the unglazed
window, his nightcap on his bald head, and his face plaistered where the
sherd had slipped; and I puffed out my cheeks to think that I had
climbed so high. High? How high might not a man climb, who had married
the daughter of the Queen's under-porter, and had sometimes the ear of
my lord, the Queen's minister--my lord of Beauvais in whom all men saw
the coming master of France! my lord whose stately presence beamed on a
world still chilled by the dead hand of Richelieu!

But that morning, that very morning, I was to learn that who climbs may
fall. I went below at the usual hour; at the usual hour Monseigneur
left, attended, for the Council; presently all the house was in an
uproar. My lord had returned, and called for Prosper. I fan