numerous flatterers who ranked
the prince first.

A thin man of average height it was who stood before me; firmly set,
well-proportioned and muscular. The Bourbon type was strongly marked
in this member of the family--thick lips, large mouth, high and
prominent cheek-bones. He possessed a good brow, betokening
intelligence, and sharp, keen, blue eyes that pierced through me.

"Why, monsieur the assassin is scarcely more than a boy!" he exclaimed
with a sneering laugh.

"I am old enough not to be frightened, even by Louis de Bourbon!" said
I, angry at his taunt.

"_Parbleu!_ These are brave words from a prisoner of the Bastille!
The Governor feeds you too well! But come, I have several questions to
put. Why did you try to kill me?"

"I did not try, your Highness! At the time of the attack I was a mile
away, shut up in a room and well guarded."

"You seem fond of prison," he said, and I felt that he did not believe
a word of my story.

"I had no choice in the matter, your Highness."

Conde looked me straight in the face, and I met his gaze without
flinching.

"You look like an honest lad," he exclaimed grudgingly, "but the
evidence against you is strong. Come, tell me everything, and I will
promise you a pardon beforehand. Was it Mazarin who urged you on?"

"I have not heard from the Cardinal for months, monsieur. If the plot
was his work, he did not take me into his confidence. But I think,
monsieur, that your enemies are nearer home."

"How? No one in Paris but De Retz would plan such a deed."

"The Abbe is a dangerous enemy, your Highness."

"No," said Conde, looking puzzled, "it could not have been De Retz. He
and his henchman, De Lalande--your cousin by the way--were with me five
minutes after the pistol was fired. I wish you would trust me."

"You will laugh at my suspicions, and the explanation will not benefit
me."

"_Ma foi!_ I have learned to consider nothing strange in this citizen
squabble. Come, speak as a friend, and I promise on my honour not to
repeat your words."

I hardly knew what to do. I had no wish to injure either Henri or
Pillot, but on the other hand, my own life was in danger, and finally I
resolved to relate the story with as little mention of names as
possible.

Conde listened attentively, stopping me now and then to ask some
searching question, and evidently considerably puzzled by the whole
affair.

"If this be true," said he at last, "it seems that Ma