"

"And had I not also guessed your intention?" exclaimed the latter,
coming forward, and throwing himself into his arms.

CHAPTER XXV. THE PRISONERS

Amoung those old chateaux of which France is every year deprived
regretfully, as of flowers from her, crown, there was one of a grim and
savage appearance upon the left bank of the Saline. It looked like a
formidable sentinel placed at one of the gates of Lyons, and derived its
name from an enormous rock, known as Pierre-Encise, which terminates in
a peak--a sort of natural pyramid, the summit of which overhanging the
river in former times, they say, joined the rocks which may still be
seen on the opposite bank, forming the natural arch of a bridge; but
time, the waters, and the hand of man have left nothing standing but the
ancient mass of granite which formed the pedestal of the now destroyed
fortress.

The archbishops of Lyons, as the temporal lords of the city, had built
and formerly resided in this castle. It afterward became a fortress, and
during the reign of Louis XIII a State prison. One colossal tower,
where the daylight could only penetrate through three long loopholes,
commanded the edifice, and some irregular buildings surrounded it with
their massive walls, whose lines and angles followed the form of the
immense and perpendicular rock.

It was here that the Cardinal, jealous of his prey, determined to
imprison his young enemies, and to conduct them himself.

Allowing Louis to precede him to Paris, he removed his captives from
Narbonne, dragging them in his train to ornament his last triumph, and
embarking on the Rhone at Tarascon, nearly, at the mouth of the river,
as if to prolong the pleasure of revenge which men have dared to call
that of the gods, displayed to the eyes of the spectators on both sides
of the river the luxury of his hatred; he slowly proceeded on his course
up the river in barges with gilded oars and emblazoned with his armorial
bearings, reclining in the first and followed by his two victims in the
second, which was fastened to his own by a long chain.

Often in the evening, when the heat of the day was passed, the awnings
of the two boats were removed, and in the one Richelieu might be seen,
pale, and seated in the stern; in that which followed, the two young
prisoners, calm and collected, supported each other, watching the
passage of the rapid stream. Formerly the soldiers of Caesar, who
encamped on the same shores, would