Conde himself, whilst fighting for him, lost no opportunity of
ridiculing, of humbling him. The queen, on whom he threw himself as sole
support, seemed to him now not much to be relied upon.

When the hour appointed for the audience arrived Athos was obliged
to stay until the queen, who was waited upon by a new deputation from
Paris, had consulted with her minister as to the propriety and manner
of receiving them. All were fully engrossed with the affairs of the
day; Athos could not therefore have chosen a more inauspicious moment to
speak of his friends--poor atoms, lost in that raging whirlwind.

But Athos was a man of inflexible determination; he firmly adhered to a
purpose once formed, when it seemed to him to spring from conscience
and to be prompted by a sense of duty. He insisted on being introduced,
saying that although he was not a deputy from Monsieur de Conti, or
Monsieur de Beaufort, or Monsieur de Bouillon, or Monsieur d'Elbeuf, or
the coadjutor, or Madame de Longueville, or Broussel, or the Parliament,
and although he had come on his own private account, he nevertheless had
things to say to her majesty of the utmost importance.

The conference being finished, the queen summoned him to her cabinet.

Athos was introduced and announced by name. It was a name that too often
resounded in her majesty's ears and too often vibrated in her heart for
Anne of Austria not to recognize it; yet she remained impassive, looking
at him with that fixed stare which is tolerated only in women who are
queens, either by the power of beauty or by the right of birth.

"It is then a service which you propose to render us, count?" asked Anne
of Austria, after a moment's silence.

"Yes, madame, another service," said Athos, shocked that the queen did
not seem to recognize him.

Athos had a noble heart, and made, therefore, but a poor courtier.

Anne frowned. Mazarin, who was sitting at a table folding up papers, as
if he had only been a secretary of state, looked up.

"Speak," said the queen.

Mazarin turned again to his papers.

"Madame," resumed Athos, "two of my friends, named D'Artagnan
and Monsieur du Vallon, sent to England by the cardinal, suddenly
disappeared when they set foot on the shores of France; no one knows
what has become of them."

"Well?" said the queen.

"I address myself, therefore, first to the benevolence of your majesty,
that I may know what has become of my friends, reserving to myself, if