he black doublet and the short hair, who was
with me just now, is still in the palace."

Bernouin went out and soon returned with Comminges, who was on guard.

"Your eminence," said Comminges, "as I was re-conducting the young man
for whom you have asked, he approached the glass door of the gallery,
and gazed intently upon some object, doubtless the picture by Raphael,
which is opposite the door. He reflected for a second and then descended
the stairs. I believe I saw him mount a gray horse and leave the palace
court. But is not your eminence going to the queen?"

"For what purpose?"

"Monsieur de Guitant, my uncle, has just told me that her majesty had
received news of the army."

"It is well; I will go."

Comminges had seen rightly, and Mordaunt had really acted as he had
related. In crossing the gallery parallel to the large glass gallery,
he perceived De Winter, who was waiting until the queen had finished her
negotiation.

At this sight the young man stopped short, not in admiration of
Raphael's picture, but as if fascinated at the sight of some terrible
object. His eyes dilated and a shudder ran through his body. One would
have said that he longed to break through the wall of glass which
separated him from his enemy; for if Comminges had seen with what an
expression of hatred the eyes of this young man were fixed upon De
Winter, he would not have doubted for an instant that the Englishman was
his eternal foe.

But he stopped, doubtless to reflect; for instead of allowing his first
impulse, which had been to go straight to Lord de Winter, to carry him
away, he leisurely descended the staircase, left the palace with his
head down, mounted his horse, which he reined in at the corner of the
Rue Richelieu, and with his eyes fixed on the gate, waited until the
queen's carriage had left the court.

He had not long to wait, for the queen scarcely remained a quarter of an
hour with Mazarin, but this quarter of an hour of expectation appeared a
century to him. At last the heavy machine, which was called a chariot in
those days, came out, rumbling against the gates, and De Winter, still
on horseback, bent again to the door to converse with her majesty.

The horses started on a trot and took the road to the Louvre, which they
entered. Before leaving the convent of the Carmelites, Henrietta
had desired her daughter to attend her at the palace, which she had
inhabited for a long time and which she had only left beca