e indifference of a man
upon whom such acts of folly made no impression. When he approached a
group in the middle of the street he urged his horse upon it without a
word of warning; and the members of the group, whether rebels or not,
as if they knew with what sort of a man they had to deal, at once
gave place to the patrol. The cardinal envied that composure, which
he attributed to the habit of meeting danger; but none the less he
conceived for the officer under whose orders he had for the moment
placed himself, that consideration which even prudence pays to careless
courage. On approaching an outpost near the Barriere des Sergens, the
sentinel cried out, "Who's there?" and D'Artagnan answered--having
first asked the word of the cardinal--"Louis and Rocroy." After which he
inquired if Lieutenant Comminges were not the commanding officer at the
outpost. The soldier replied by pointing out to him an officer who was
conversing, on foot, his hand upon the neck of a horse on which the
individual to whom he was talking sat. Here was the officer D'Artagnan
was seeking.

"Here is Monsieur Comminges," said D'Artagnan, returning to the
cardinal. He instantly retired, from a feeling of respectful delicacy;
it was, however, evident that the cardinal was recognized by both
Comminges and the other officers on horseback.

"Well done, Guitant," cried the cardinal to the equestrian; "I see
plainly that, notwithstanding the sixty-four years that have passed over
your head, you are still the same man, active and zealous. What were you
saying to this youngster?"

"My lord," replied Guitant, "I was observing that we live in troublous
times and that to-day's events are very like those in the days of the
Ligue, of which I heard so much in my youth. Are you aware that the mob
have even suggested throwing up barricades in the Rue Saint Denis and
the Rue Saint Antoine?"

"And what was Comminges saying to you in reply, my good Guitant?"

"My lord," said Comminges, "I answered that to compose a Ligue only one
ingredient was wanting--in my opinion an essential one--a Duc de Guise;
moreover, no generation ever does the same thing twice."

"No, but they mean to make a Fronde, as they call it," said Guitant.

"And what is a Fronde?" inquired Mazarin.

"My lord, Fronde is the name the discontented give to their party."

"And what is the origin of this name?"

"It seems that some days since Councillor Bachaumont remarked at
the palace that