isappeared with his companion, laughing and talking, whilst all heads
were bowed on his passage.

"Then," whispered the prince to Athos, "that is the secret."

"It was not I that told you so, my lord."

"He is to marry the sister of Charles II.?"

"I believe so."

The prince reflected for a moment, and his eye shot forth one of its not
unfrequent flashes. "Humph!" said he slowly, as if speaking to himself;
"our swords are once more to be hung on the wall--for a long time!" and
he sighed.

All that sigh contained of ambition silently stifled, of extinguished
illusions and disappointed hopes, Athos alone divined, for he alone had
heard that sigh. Immediately after, the prince took leave and the king
left the apartment. Athos, by a sign made to Bragelonne, renewed the
desire he had expressed at the beginning of the scene. By degrees the
chamber was deserted, and Mazarin was left alone, a prey to suffering
which he could no longer dissemble. "Bernouin! Bernouin!" cried he, in a
broken voice.

"What does monseigneur want?"

"Guenaud--let Guenaud be sent for," said his eminence. "I think I'm
dying."

Bernouin, in great terror, rushed into the cabinet to give the order,
and the piqueur, who hastened to fetch the physician, passed the king's
carriage in the Rue Saint Honore.

CHAPTER 43. Guenaud

The cardinal's order was pressing; Guenaud quickly obeyed it. He found
his patient stretched on his bed, his legs swelled, his face livid, and
his stomach collapsed. Mazarin had a severe attack of gout. He suffered
tortures with the impatience of a man who has not been accustomed to
resistances. On seeing Guenaud: "Ah!" said he; "now I am saved!"

Guenaud was a very learned and circumspect man, who stood in no need of
the critiques of Boileau to obtain a reputation. When facing a disease,
if it were personified in a king, he treated the patient as a Turk
treats a Moor. He did not, therefore, reply to Mazarin as the minister
expected: "Here is the doctor; good-bye disease!" On the contrary, on
examining his patient, with a very serious air:

"Oh! oh!" said he.

"Eh! what! Guenaud! How you look at me!"

"I look as I should on seeing your complaint, my lord; it is a very
dangerous one."

"The gout--oh! yes, the gout."

"With complications, my lord"

Mazarin raised himself upon his elbow, and, questioning by look and
gesture: "What do you mean by that? Am I worse than I believe myself to
be?"

"My lord,