hip, love, confidence, should alone encompass
you; when all around you should give you a favorable opinion of your
species, at your very entry into the great world! How unfortunate! alas,
why did you come?"

When the good Abbe had followed up this lamentation by pressing
affectionately both hands of the young traveller in his own, so red and
wrinkled, the latter answered:

"Can you not guess, my dear Abbe, that I came to Loudun because you
are here? As to the spectacle you speak of, it appears to me simply
ridiculous; and I swear that I do not a whit the less on its account
love that human race of which your virtues and your good lessons have
given me an excellent idea. As to the five or six mad women who--"

"Let us not lose time; I will explain to you all that matter; but answer
me, whither go you, and for what?"

"I am going to Perpignan, where the Cardinal-Duke is to present me to
the King."

At this the worthy but hasty Abbe rose from his box, and walked, or
rather ran, to and fro, stamping. "The Cardinal! the Cardinal!" he
repeated, almost choking, his face becoming scarlet, and the tears
rising to his eyes; "My poor child! they will destroy him! Ah, mon Dieu!
what part would they have him play there? What would they do with
him? Ah, who will protect thee, my son, in that dangerous place?" he
continued, reseating himself, and again taking his pupil's hands in his
own with a paternal solicitude, as he endeavored to read his thoughts in
his countenance.

"Why, I do not exactly know," said Cinq-Mars, looking up at the ceiling;
"but I suppose it will be the Cardinal de Richelieu, who was the friend
of my father."

"Ah, my dear Henri, you make me tremble; he will ruin you unless you
become his docile instrument. Alas, why can not I go with you? Why must
I act the young man of twenty in this unfortunate affair? Alas, I should
be perilous to you; I must, on the contrary, conceal myself. But you
will have Monsieur de Thou near you, my son, will you not?" said he,
trying to reassure himself; "he was your friend in childhood, though
somewhat older than yourself. Heed his counsels, my child, he is a wise
young man of mature reflection and solid ideas."

"Oh, yes, my dear Abbe, you may depend upon my tender attachment for
him; I never have ceased to love him."

"But you have ceased to write to him, have you not?" asked the good
Abbe, half smilingly.

"I beg your pardon, my dear Abbe, I wrote to him once, and agai