Beguine paused, observing how intensely
the queen was suffering; she had thrown herself back in her chair, and
with her head bent forward and her eyes fixed, listened without seeming
to hear, and her lips moving convulsively, either breathing a prayer to
Heaven or imprecations on the woman standing before her.

"Ah! I do not believe that, if, because there could be but one dauphin
in France," exclaimed the Beguine, "the queen allowed that child to
vegetate, banished from his royal parents' presence, she was on that
account an unfeeling mother. Oh, no, no; there are those alive who have
known and witnessed the passionate kisses she imprinted on that innocent
creature in exchange for a life of misery and gloom to which state
policy condemned the twin brother of Louis XIV."

"Oh! Heaven!" murmured the queen feebly.

"It is admitted," continued the Beguine, quickly, "that when the king
perceived the effect which would result from the existence of two sons,
equal in age and pretensions, he trembled for the welfare of France,
for the tranquillity of the state; and it is equally well known that
Cardinal de Richelieu, by the direction of Louis XIII., thought over
the subject with deep attention, and after an hour's meditation in his
majesty's cabinet, he pronounced the following sentence:--'One prince
means peace and safety for the state; two competitors, civil war and
anarchy.'"

The queen rose suddenly from her seat, pale as death, and her hands
clenched together:

"You know too much," she said, in a hoarse, thick voice, "since you
refer to secrets of state. As for the friends from whom you have
acquired this secret, they are false and treacherous. You are their
accomplice in the crime which is being now committed. Now, throw aside
your mask, or I will have you arrested by my captain of the guards. Do
not think that this secret terrifies me! You have obtained it, you shall
restore it to me. Never shall it leave your bosom, for neither your
secret nor your own life belong to you from this moment."

Anne of Austria, joining gesture to the threat, advanced a couple of
steps towards the Beguine.

"Learn," said the latter, "to know and value the fidelity, the honor,
and secrecy of the friends you have abandoned." And, then, suddenly she
threw aside her mask.

"Madame de Chevreuse!" exclaimed the queen.

"With your majesty, the sole living _confidante_ of the secret."

"Ah!" murmured Anne of Austria; "come and embrace