smiling, "you had not recognized me before."

"Always refractory and grumbling--monsieur--monsieur--What do they call
you? Stop--a name of a river--Potamos; no--the name of an island--Naxos;
no, _per Giove!_--the name of a mountain--Athos! now I have it.
Delighted to see you again, and to be no longer at Rueil, where you
and your damned companions made me pay ransom. Fronde! still Fronde!
accursed Fronde! Oh, what grudges! Why, monsieur, have your antipathies
survived mine? If any one has cause to complain, I think it could not
be you, who got out of the affair not only in a sound skin, but with the
_cordon_ of the Holy Ghost around your neck."

"My lord cardinal," replied Athos, "permit me not to enter into
considerations of that kind. I have a mission to fulfill. Will you
facilitate the means of my fulfilling that mission, or will you not?"

"I am astonished," said Mazarin,--quite delighted at having
recovered his memory, and bristling with malice,--"I am astonished,
Monsieur--Athos--that a _Frondeur_ like you should have accepted a
mission for the Perfidious Mazarin, as used to be said in the good old
times--" And Mazarin began to laugh, in spite of a painful cough, which
cut short his sentences, converting them into sobs.

"I have only accepted the mission near the king of France, monsieur le
cardinal," retorted the comte, though with less asperity, for he thought
he had sufficiently the advantage to show himself moderate.

"And yet, _Monsieur le Frondeur_," said Mazarin, gayly, "the affair
which you have taken in charge must, from the king--"

"With which I have been given in charge, monseigneur. I do not run after
affairs."

"Be it so. I say that this negotiation must pass through my hands. Let
us lose no precious time, then. Tell me the conditions."

"I have had the honor of assuring your eminence that only the letter of
his majesty King Charles II. contains the revelation of his wishes."

"Pooh! you are ridiculous with your obstinacy, Monsieur Athos. It is
plain you have kept company with the Puritans yonder. As to your secret,
I know it better than you do; and you have done wrongly, perhaps, in
not having shown some respect for a very old and suffering man, who
has labored much during his life, and kept the field for his ideas as
bravely as you have for yours. You will not communicate your letter to
me? You will say nothing to me? Very well! Come with me into my chamber;
you shall speak to the king--a