then, France had gained directly one thing at least,
and that was a sight at Richelieu.

The year after the States-General wore away in the old vile fashion.
Conde revolted again, and this time he managed to scare the Protestants
into revolt with him. The daring of the nobles was greater than ever.
They even attacked the young King's train as he journeyed to Bordeaux,
and another compromise had to be wearily built in the Treaty of Loudun.
By this Conde was again bought off,--but this time only by a bribe of
a million and a half of livres. The other nobles were also paid
enormously, and, on making a reckoning, it was found that this
compromise had cost the King four millions, and the country twenty
millions. The nation had also to give into the hands of the nobles some
of its richest cities and strongest fortresses.

Immediately after this compromise, Conde returned to Paris, loud,
strong, jubilant, defiant, bearing himself like a king. Soon he and his
revolted again; but just at that moment Concini happened to remember
Richelieu. The young bishop was called and set at work.

Richelieu grasped the rebellion at once. In broad daylight he seized
Conde and shut him up in the Bastille; other noble leaders he declared
guilty of treason, and degraded them; he set forth the crimes and
follies of the nobles in a manifesto which stung their cause to death in
a moment; he published his policy in a proclamation which ran through
France like fire, warming all hearts of patriots, withering all hearts
of rebels; he sent out three great armies: one northward to grasp
Picardy, one eastward to grasp Champagne, one southward to grasp Berri.
There is a man who can _do_ something! The nobles yield in a moment:
they _must_ yield.

But, just at this moment, when a better day seemed to dawn, came an
event which threw France back into anarchy, and Richelieu out into the
world again.

The young King, Louis XIII., was now sixteen years old. His mother the
Regent and her favorite Concini had carefully kept him down. Under their
treatment he had grown morose and seemingly stupid; but he had wit
enough to understand the policy of his mother and Concini, and strength
enough to hate them for it.

The only human being to whom Louis showed any love was a young falconer,
Albert de Luynes,--and with De Luynes he conspired against his mother's
power and her favorite's life. On an April morning, 1617, the King and
De Luynes sent a party of chosen me