espectfully.

"Well, sir," said the queen, "what is your opinion of this riot?"

"That it is no longer a riot, madame," he replied, "but a revolt."

"The revolt is at the door of those who think my people can rebel,"
cried Anne, unable to dissimulate before the coadjutor, whom she looked
upon, and probably with reason, as the promoter of the tumult. "Revolt!
thus it is called by those who have wished for this demonstration and
who are, perhaps, the cause of it; but, wait, wait! the king's authority
will put all this to rights."

"Was it to tell me that, madame," coldly replied Gondy, "that your
majesty admitted me to the honor of entering your presence?"

"No, my dear coadjutor," said Mazarin; "it was to ask your advice in the
unhappy dilemma in which we find ourselves."

"Is it true," asked Gondy, feigning astonishment, "that her majesty
summoned me to ask for my opinion?"

"Yes," said the queen, "it is requested."

The coadjutor bowed.

"Your majesty wishes, then----"

"You to say what you would do in her place," Mazarin hastened to reply.

The coadjutor looked at the queen, who replied by a sign in the
affirmative.

"Were I in her majesty's place," said Gondy, coldly, "I should not
hesitate; I should release Broussel."

"And if I do not give him up, what think you will be the result?"
exclaimed the queen.

"I believe that not a stone in Paris will remain unturned," put in the
marechal.

"It was not your opinion that I asked," said the queen, sharply, without
even turning around.

"If it is I whom your majesty interrogates," replied the coadjutor
in the same calm manner, "I reply that I hold monsieur le marechal's
opinion in every respect."

The color mounted to the queen's face; her fine blue eyes seemed to
start out of her head and her carmine lips, compared by all the poets of
the day to a pomegranate in flower, were trembling with anger. Mazarin
himself, who was well accustomed to the domestic outbreaks of this
disturbed household, was alarmed.

"Give up Broussel!" she cried; "fine counsel, indeed. Upon my word! one
can easily see it comes from a priest."

Gondy remained firm, and the abuse of the day seemed to glide over his
head as the sarcasms of the evening before had done; but hatred and
revenge were accumulating in his heart silently and drop by drop. He
looked coldly at the queen, who nudged Mazarin to make him say something
in his turn.

Mazarin, according to his custom, was thin