ven you leave to go on parole to St. Sulpice des
Reaux that night, trusting to your word of honour that you would return
if you lived. His Eminence dubbed me a fool and went near to dismissing
me from his service, and yet I have now the proof that my confidence was
not misplaced, since even though you were believed to be dead, you did
not hesitate to bring me your sword."

"Monsieur, spare me!" I exclaimed, for in truth his compliments waxed as
irksome as had been his whilom merriment.

He continued, however, his laudatory address, and when it was at last
ended, and he paused exhausted alike in breath and brain, it was to take
up my sword and return it to me with my parole, pronouncing me a free
man, and advising me to let men continue to think me dead, and to
withdraw from France. He cut short my half-protesting thanks, and
calling the hostess bade her set another cover, whilst me he invited to
share his supper. And as we ate he again urged upon me the advice that I
should go abroad.

"For by Heaven," he added, "Mazarin has been as a raging beast since the
news was brought him yesterday of his nephew's marriage."

"How?" I cried. "He has heard already?"

"He has, indeed; and should he learn that your flesh still walks the
earth, methinks it would go worse with you than it went even with Eugene
de Canaples."

In answer to the questions with which I excitedly plied him, I drew from
him the story of how Eugene had arrived the day before in Paris, and
gone straight to the Palais Royal. M. de Montresor had been on guard
in the ante-chamber, and in virtue of an excitement noticeable in
Canaples's bearing, coupled with the ill-odour wherein already he was
held by Mazarin, the lieutenant's presence had been commanded in the
Cardinal's closet during the interview--for his Eminence was never like
to acquire fame for valour.

In his exultation at what had chanced, and at the manner in which
Mazarin's Chateau en Espagne had been dispelled, Canaples used little
caution, or even discretion, in what he said. In fact, from what
Montresor told me, I gathered that the fool's eagerness to be the first
to bear the tidings to Mazarin sprang from a rash desire to gloat over
the Cardinal's discomfiture. He had told his story insolently--almost
derisively--and Mazarin's fury, driven beyond bounds already by what
he had heard, became a very tempest of passion 'neath the lash of
Canaples's impertinences. And, naturally enough, that temp