in's life--that
nocturnal ambuscade so well planned and so deliberately set about on the
1st of September, 1643--chanced to fail, and what was the result of such
failure. Without stopping to discuss the conjectures of Campion on this
point, it may suffice to state that Mazarin, who was on his guard,
evaded the blow destined for him by not visiting the Queen during the
evening on which it was resolved to kill him as he should return from
the Louvre. Next day the scene was changed. A rumour spread rapidly that
the Prime Minister had expected to have been murdered by Beaufort and
his friends, that he had escaped, fortune having declared in his favour.
A plot to assassinate, more especially when it fails, invariably excites
the strongest indignation, and the man who has extricated himself from a
great peril and seems destined to sweep all such from his path, readily
finds adherents and defenders. A host of people who would probably have
supported Beaufort victorious, now flocked to offer their swords and
services to the Cardinal, and on that morning he went to the Louvre
escorted by three hundred gentlemen.

For several days previously, Mazarin had seen clearly that, cost what
it might, he must cut his way through the knotted intricacy of the
situation, and that the moment had arrived for forcing Anne of Austria
to choose her part. The occasion was decisive. If the peril which he had
just undergone, and which was only suspended over his head, did not
suffice to draw the Queen from her incertitude, it would prove that she
did not love him; and Mazarin knew well that, amidst the many dangers
surrounding him, his entire strength lay in the Queen's affection, and
that thereon depended his present safety and future fate. Whether,
therefore, through policy or sincere affection, it was always to Anne of
Austria's heart that he addressed himself, and at the outset of the
crisis he had said to himself: "If I believed that the Queen was merely
making use of me through necessity, without having any personal
inclination for me, I would not stay here three days longer."[1] But
enough has been said to show plainly that Anne of Austria _loved_
Mazarin. Comparing him with his rivals, she appreciated him daily more
and more. She admired the precision and clearness of his intellect, his
finesse and penetration, and that extraordinary energy which enabled him
to bear the weight of government with marvellous ease--his quick and
accurate intros