as gone wrong."

At the end of half an hour a carriage drew up before the door, and
Marie and her aunt descended. They stood for a moment on the top of
the steps, and then, as the vehicle passed on, entered the house.

Leaving our post of observation, we crossed the road, and the servant,
showing us into an ante-room, went to announce my name.

"Get it over quickly," whispered M. Belloc, as the man returned. "Most
likely there will be a few tears, but you must not mind those."

I did not feel particularly happy as I followed the servant along the
corridor. The errand was far from my liking, and I would rather have
stormed a breach; but, as I ate Mazarin's bread, it was my duty to obey
his orders.

The ladies were seated in a small but luxuriously appointed room, and
Madame Coutance welcomed me with embarrassing warmth.

"The hour is somewhat late," she said, "but I expect the Cardinal keeps
your time fully occupied. You do not favour us with much of your
company."

"I am very unwilling to be here now," I blurted out, not knowing what
else to say. "The fact is, I have come on an unwelcome errand," and,
producing Martin's note, added, "that will explain the object of my
visit."

I scarcely dared glance at Marie, who remained very still while her
aunt was reading.

M. Belloc had warned me to expect a few tears, but, instead of weeping,
Madame Coutance launched into an angry speech against Mazarin, whom she
called a wicked and infamous man, and concluded by a blunt refusal to
surrender any papers whatever.

"But," I suggested feebly, being overwhelmed by her torrent of words,
"you have no choice in the matter, madame. Unless you give me this
list of your own free will, my orders are to lodge you in the Bastille,
and to search your rooms."

"And if my aunt yields the papers?" asked Marie, who, I fancy, was
rather alarmed at the mention of the Bastille.

"In that case, mademoiselle, the affair ends with a trip to Aunay. A
carriage is outside, and in ten minutes we leave for one place or the
other."

"Come, _ma chere_," said the girl soothingly, "you must submit. Life
in the Bastille cannot be nearly as pleasant as at Aunay."

Madame Coutance opened a desk which stood in a corner of the tiny room,
and drew out a roll of paper.

"There is what your master wants!" she exclaimed angrily, "but let him
take care; it will be our turn soon."

"Do you accompany us to Aunay?" asked Marie.

"Yes, with an e