About a week after this conversation with Humphreys, M. Belloc ordered
me to be at the Cardinal's room at four o'clock the next morning.

"Have your horse ready, and in good trim, as I believe you have a long
journey."

"Not as far as Bruhl, I hope?"

"No," said he with a smile; "I think none of us will need to return to
Bruhl in a hurry, though it is difficult to prophesy. However, see to
your horse, and then get off to bed. The Cardinal will expect you at
the very second."

By this time I was well aware of Mazarin's crotchets, and took care to
present myself at the proper time. His secretary opened the door, and
admitted me into his master's room. Whether Mazarin ever went to bed
at this period of his life I cannot say, but he always gave me the
impression that he could live without sleep. There he was at four
o'clock, in dressing gown and slippers, writing with no sign of
weariness whatever.

"Is your horse saddled, M. de Lalande?" he asked, without stopping or
taking his eyes from the paper.

"Yes, your Eminence."

"Very good. Here is a little document; put it away safely. It is for
Marshal Turenne, and it must be given to him this evening. He is at
Etampes, or rather in the neighbourhood. Do not lose the missive,
though it is less important than some you have carried."

"Do I return at once, your Eminence?"

"That will depend on Marshal Turenne. You will place yourself under
his orders. And now, a prosperous ride to you."

M. Belloc, who had placed my horse in care of a soldier, was waiting
outside. He evidently knew the nature of my errand, and, as I mounted,
wished me a quick and pleasant journey.

"The country is fairly clear," he said, "and there is not much chance
of meeting with an enemy. Still, it will be as well to keep your eyes
open."

"I will," said I, thinking of my journey to Bruhl, and of the
smooth-spoken Captain Courcy.

There was, however, little cause for alarm, the only soldiers I
encountered being King's troops. At Limours, where I intended to stop
for an hour or two, the inns were filled with them, and I found some
difficulty in getting my horse stabled. The inn at which I at length
stopped was the Golden Fleece, and even there every room was occupied.

"I am grieved," exclaimed the innkeeper, a portly man with rubicund
face, "but monsieur can have a table for his refreshment, and he will
not find the guests objectionable."

Opening a door, he ushered me into