cying I heard
him call my name.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

"Remember the Porte St. Antoine."

It was, perhaps, fortunate that about this time Mazarin kept me very
busy. Events moved quickly; the situation changed every day; no one
knew at one hour what would happen the next. The Cardinal remained
with the Court, but I spent most of my time on horseback, galloping
with hastily written letters from one leader to another.

One day I was sent to Villeneuve St. Georges, where Turenne, having
made a daring march, had just arrived. The Marshal was in a position
of extreme danger. Lorraine was in front of him with a large army;
Conde's troops were approaching swiftly from Etampes. There was an
even greater peril, of which, however, I had no idea, till the famous
soldier had read Mazarin's note.

"Here is news," said he, speaking to an officer of high rank; "Conde
has left Paris and has joined his troops. We must settle this affair
soon, or the prince will be too quick for us."

He possessed the highest respect for Conde as a soldier, and the prince
on his part regarded Turenne as the only enemy to be feared. These two
were, in fact, the most celebrated generals in Europe, and it was a
thousand pities for France that their swords were not pointed against a
common enemy.

"Let us see what the Cardinal offers," he continued, proceeding to read
Mazarin's note. "Hum! Lorraine won't accept those terms, unless I
back them up by a show of bayonets. Yet he must be got rid of! We
can't fight both him and Conde at the same time."

Presently turning to me he said, "Ride back to St. Germain, De Lalande,
and inform the Cardinal that I will send a messenger within twenty-four
hours. By then Lorraine will be in full retreat or His Majesty will be
minus an army."

Before leaving the camp I endeavoured to find Raoul, but without
success. Several officers informed me that he was rarely with the main
body, his troopers being chiefly used for scouting purposes. This was
disappointing; so, as there was clearly no chance of meeting him, I
returned to St. Germain and delivered my message.

How he managed it I cannot explain--some people hinted that Mazarin's
craft had most to do with it--but Turenne was as good as his word, and
the next evening an officer from his army galloped into St. Germain
with the information that, without striking a blow, Lorraine had broken
up his camp and was retreating to Flanders. Mazarin rubbed his