will set out upon receiving an order from me, without knowing what he
carries, and he will carry your Majesty's letter, without even knowing
it is from your Majesty, to the address which is on it."

The queen took the two hands of the young woman with a burst of emotion,
gazed at her as if to read her very heart, and seeing nothing but
sincerity in her beautiful eyes, embraced her tenderly.

"Do that," cried she, "and you will have saved my life, you will have
saved my honor!"

"Do not exaggerate the service I have the happiness to render your
Majesty. I have nothing to save for your Majesty; you are only the
victim of perfidious plots."

"That is true, that is true, my child," said the queen, "you are right."

"Give me then, that letter, madame; time presses."

The queen ran to a little table, on which were ink, paper, and pens. She
wrote two lines, sealed the letter with her private seal, and gave it to
Mme. Bonacieux.

"And now," said the queen, "we are forgetting one very necessary thing."

"What is that, madame?"

"Money."

Mme. Bonacieux blushed.

"Yes, that is true," said she, "and I will confess to your Majesty that
my husband--"

"Your husband has none. Is that what you would say?"

"He has some, but he is very avaricious; that is his fault.
Nevertheless, let not your Majesty be uneasy, we will find means."

"And I have none, either," said the queen. Those who have read the
MEMOIRS of Mme. de Motteville will not be astonished at this reply. "But
wait a minute."

Anne of Austria ran to her jewel case.

"Here," said she, "here is a ring of great value, as I have been
assured. It came from my brother, the King of Spain. It is mine, and I
am at liberty to dispose of it. Take this ring; raise money with it, and
let your husband set out."

"In an hour you shall be obeyed."

"You see the address," said the queen, speaking so low that Mme.
Bonacieux could hardly hear what she said, "To my Lord Duke of
Buckingham, London."

"The letter shall be given to himself."

"Generous girl!" cried Anne of Austria.

Mme. Bonacieux kissed the hands of the queen, concealed the paper in the
bosom of her dress, and disappeared with the lightness of a bird.

Ten minutes afterward she was at home. As she told the queen, she had
not seen her husband since his liberation; she was ignorant of the
change that had taken place in him with respect to the cardinal--a
change which had since been strengthened by two