him above
all, next to her who will sacrifice all for you, who will await you amid
suffering and sorrow. Take this little gold cross and wear it upon your
heart; it has often been wet with my tears, and those tears will flow
still more bitterly if ever you are faithless to the King. Give me the
ring I see on your finger. Oh, heavens, my hand and yours are red with
blood!"

"Oh, only a scratch. Did you hear nothing, an hour ago?"

"No; but listen. Do you hear anything now?"

"No, Marie, nothing but some bird of night on the tower."

"I heard whispering near us, I am sure. But whence comes this blood?
Tell me, and then depart."

"Yes, I will go, while the clouds are still dark above us. Farewell,
sweet soul; in my hour of danger I will invoke thee as a guardian angel.
Love has infused the burning poison of ambition into my soul, and
for the first time I feel that ambition may be ennobled by its aim.
Farewell! I go to accomplish my destiny."

"And forget not mine."

"Can they ever be separated?"

"Never!" exclaimed Marie, "but by death."

"I fear absence still more," said Cinq-Mars.

"Farewell! I tremble; farewell!" repeated the beloved voice, and the
window was slowly drawn down, the clasped hands not parting till the
last moment.

The black horse had all the while been pawing the earth, tossing his
head with impatience, and whinnying. Cinq-Mars, as agitated and restless
as his steed, gave it the rein; and the whole party was soon near the
city of Tours, which the bells of St. Gatien had announced from afar.
To the disappointment of old Grandchamp, Cinq-Mars would not enter the
town, but proceeded on his way, and five days later he entered, with his
escort, the old city of Loudun in Poitou, after an uneventful journey.

CHAPTER II. THE STREET

Je m'avancais d'un pas penible et mal assure vers le but
de ce convoi tragique.--NODIER, 'Smarra'.

The reign of which we are about to paint a few years--a reign of
feebleness, which was like an eclipse of the crown between the splendors
of Henri IV and those of Louis le Grand--afflicts the eyes which
contemplate it with dark stains of blood, and these were not all the
work of one man, but were caused by great and grave bodies. It is
melancholy to observe that in this age, still full of disorder, the
clergy, like a nation, had its populace, as it had its nobility, its
ignorant and its criminal prelates, as well as those who were learned
and virtuo