laimed
quite cordially, "Ah, cousin, you are a stranger! I have not seen you
for a long time. I was sorry to hear of Peleton's mad prank. Were you
hurt?"

"No," said I, rather shortly.

"You are a lucky fellow, Albert. For a lad from the country, you have
done well. _Peste!_ You have made quite a splash in the world, and I
am proud of my cousin."

"You do me great honour," said I, with a mocking bow.

"Not more than you deserve. By the way, is it true that you have
joined Conde's party?"

"Why?"

"Because you were with his mob when Madame Coutance behaved so
stupidly."

"I did my best to save a woman from being torn to pieces--nothing more."

"It was very gallant of you," and then, as an afterthought, "so you
still fancy there is a chance of Mazarin's return?"

"There may be, or not. I only know that I am pledged to assist him,
and that the De Lalandes have been taught to keep their word."

"Quite right!" returned Henri, gaily. "Well, adieu, my faithful
cousin! Your constancy is touching, and I hope it may bring you good
fortune, but of that I am doubtful," and, with a careless laugh, he
hurried on.

"Planning some fresh mischief!" I muttered, and dismissed the incident
from my mind.

Nearly a week had now passed since the receipt of the mysterious note,
and nothing of consequence had happened. Every day I went into the
streets without disguise or attempt at concealment, and no one paid any
attention to my doings.

About this time the city was considerably agitated, and filled with all
sorts of conflicting rumours. Among other things it was hinted that
Mazarin, having re-entered France, was marching at the head of a
foreign army on Paris, with the avowed object of razing it to the
ground.

De Retz, laughing in his sleeve, went about attended by a numerous and
well-armed retinue to protect him from being murdered; Conde followed
his example, and the _petits maitres_ swaggered more than ever,
especially when they met the friends of De Retz; at the Hotel Vendome,
the Duke of Beaufort stayed in bed, having, according to rumour, been
poisoned; while Gaston of Orleans was popularly supposed to have joined
four separate plots in one day, and betrayed them all to the Queen
before night. Thus far, however, nothing serious had resulted from
these wonderful doings, and I was chiefly concerned with my own private
affairs.

"It seems to me," I said to Raoul one night, as we walked together
toward