eized with a long and violent cough,
accompanied internally with the sharp, deep pain he so often felt in the
side. At the sinister warning he put a handkerchief to his mouth, which
he withdrew covered with blood. To hide it, he threw it under the table,
and looked around him with a stern smile, as if to forbid observation.
Louis XIII, perfectly insensible, did not make the least movement,
beyond arranging his men for another game with a skeleton and trembling
hand. There two dying men seemed to be throwing lots which should depart
first.

At this moment a clock struck the hour of midnight. The King raised his
head.

"Ah, ah!" he said; "this morning at twelve Monsieur le Grand had a
disagreeable time of it."

A piercing shriek was uttered behind him. He shuddered, and threw
himself forward, upsetting the table. Marie de Mantua lay senseless in
the arms of the Queen, who, weeping bitterly, said in the King's ear:

"Ah, Sire, your axe has a double edge."

She then bestowed all her cares and maternal kisses upon the young
Princess, who, surrounded by all the ladies of the court, only came
to herself to burst into a torrent of tears. As soon as she opened her
eyes, "Alas! yes, my child," said Anne of Austria. "My poor girl, you
are Queen of Poland."

It has often happened that the same event which causes tears to flow in
the palace of kings has spread joy without, for the people ever suppose
that happiness reigns at festivals. There were five days' rejoicings for
the return of the minister, and every evening under the windows of the
Palais-Cardinal and those of the Louvre pressed the people of Paris.
The late disturbances had given them a taste for public movements. They
rushed from one street to another with a curiosity at times insulting
and hostile, sometimes walking in silent procession, sometimes sending
forth loud peals of laughter or prolonged yells, of which no one
understood the meaning. Bands of young men fought in the streets and
danced in rounds in the squares, as if manifesting some secret hope of
pleasure and some insensate joy, grievous to the upright heart.

It was remarkable that profound silence prevailed exactly in those
places where the minister had ordered rejoicings, and that the people
passed disdainfully before the illuminated facade of his palace. If some
voices were raised, it was to read aloud in a sneering tone the legends
and inscriptions with which the idiot flattery of some obscure wri