the king's intention to
leave Paris by night had been circulated. Ten or twelve persons had
been in the secret since six o'clock, and howsoever great their prudence
might be, they could not issue the necessary orders for the departure
without suspicion being generated. Besides, each individual had one or
two others for whom he was interested; and as there could be no doubt
but that the queen was leaving Paris full of terrible projects of
vengeance, every one had warned parents and friends of what was about to
transpire; so that the news of the approaching exit ran like a train of
lighted gunpowder along the streets.

The first carriage which arrived after that of the queen was that of
the Prince de Conde, with the princess and dowager princess. Both these
ladies had been awakened in the middle of the night and did not know
what it all was about. The second contained the Duke and Duchess of
Orleans, the tall young Mademoiselle and the Abbe de la Riviere; and
the third, the Duke de Longueville and the Prince de Conti, brother and
brother-in-law of Conde. They all alighted and hastened to pay their
respects to the king and queen in their coach. The queen fixed her eyes
upon the carriage they had left, and seeing that it was empty, she said:

"But where is Madame de Longueville?"

"Ah, yes, where is my sister?" asked the prince.

"Madame de Longueville is ill," said the duke, "and she desired me to
excuse her to your majesty."

Anne gave a quick glance to Mazarin, who answered by an almost
imperceptible shake of his head.

"What do you say of this?" asked the queen.

"I say that she is a hostage for the Parisians," answered the cardinal.

"Why is she not come?" asked the prince in a low voice, addressing his
brother.

"Silence," whispered the duke, "she has her reasons."

"She will ruin us!" returned the prince.

"She will save us," said Conti.

Carriages now arrived in crowds; those of the Marechal de Villeroy,
Guitant, Villequier and Comminges came into the line. The two musketeers
arrived in their turn, holding the horses of D'Artagnan and Porthos in
their hands. These two instantly mounted, the coachman of the latter
replacing D'Artagnan on the coach-box of the royal coach. Mousqueton
took the place of the coachman, and drove standing, for reasons known to
himself, like Automedon of antiquity.

The queen, though occupied by a thousand details, tried to catch the
Gascon's eye; but he, with his wonted prud