an address, and made
an appointment as complacently as M. Daangeau himself could have done--I
heard him, and I know the meaning of his words. 'To-morrow morning,'
said he, 'they will pass opposite the bridge of Blois.' _Mordioux!_ that
is clear enough, and particularly for a lover. That is the cause of this
embarrassment; that is the cause of this hesitation; that is the
cause of this order--'Monsieur the lieutenant of my musketeers, be on
horseback to-morrow at four o'clock in the morning.' Which is as
clear as if he had said,--'Monsieur the lieutenant of my musketeers,
to-morrow, at four, at the bridge of Blois,--do you understand?' Here
is a state secret, then, which I, humble as I am, have in my possession,
while it is in action. And how do I get it? Because I have good eyes,
as his majesty just now said. They say he loves this little Italian doll
furiously. They say he threw himself at his mother's feet, to beg her to
allow him to marry her. They say the queen went so far as to consult
the court of Rome, whether such a marriage, contracted against her will,
would be valid. Oh, if I were but twenty-five! If I had by my side those
I no longer have! If I did not despise the whole world most profoundly,
I would embroil Mazarin with the queen-mother, France with Spain, and
I would make a queen after my own fashion. But let that pass." And the
lieutenant snapped his fingers in disdain.

"This miserable Italian--this poor creature--this sordid wretch--who has
just refused the king of England a million, would not perhaps give me
a thousand pistoles for the news I would carry him. _Mordioux!_ I am
falling into second childhood--I am becoming stupid indeed! The idea of
Mazarin giving anything! ha! ha! ha!" and he laughed in a subdued voice.

"Well, let us go to sleep--let us go to sleep; and the sooner the
better. My mind is wearied with my evening's work, and will see things
to-morrow more clearly than to-day."

And upon this recommendation, made to himself, he folded his cloak
around him, looking with contempt upon his royal neighbor. Five minutes
after this he was asleep, with his hands clenched and his lips apart,
giving escape, not to his secret, but to a sonorous sound, which rose
and spread freely beneath the majestic roof of the ante-chamber.

Chapter XIII. Mary de Mancini.

The sun had scarcely shed its first beams on the majestic trees of the
park and the lofty turrets of the castle, when the young king, w