ow not who it was who waylaid us, for this man seemed to
know nothing of the matter. However, all that will be clearer
afterwards. What is to be done now?"

"I have my own orders. Madame is to be sent to Petit Bourg, and any who
are concerned in offering her violence are to be kept until the king's
pleasure is known. The castle, too, must be held for the king.
But you, De Catinat, you have nothing to do now?"

"Nothing, save that I would like well to ride into Paris to see that all
is right with my uncle and his daughter."

"Ah, that sweet little cousin of thine! By my soul, I do not wonder
that the folk know you well in the Rue St. Martin. Well, I have carried
a message for you once, and you shall do as much for me now."

"With all my heart. And whither?"

"To Versailles. The king will be on fire to know how we have fared.
You have the best right to tell him, since without you and your friend
yonder it would have been but a sorry tale."

"I will be there in two hours."

"Have you horses?"

"Ours were slain."

"You will find some in the stables here. Pick the best, since you have
lost your own in the king's service."

The advice was too good to be overlooked. De Catinat, beckoning to Amos
Green, hurried away with him to the stables, while De Brissac, with a
few short sharp orders, disarmed the retainers, stationed his guardsmen
all over the castle, and arranged for the removal of the lady, and for
the custody of her husband. An hour later the two friends were riding
swiftly down the country road, inhaling the sweet air, which seemed the
fresher for their late experience of the dank, foul vapours of their
dungeon. Far behind them a little dark pinnacle jutting over a grove of
trees marked the chateau which they had left, while on the extreme
horizon to the west there came a quick shimmer and sparkle where the
level rays of the early sun gleamed upon the magnificent palace which
was their goal.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE FALL OF THE CATINATS.

Two days after Madame de Maintenon's marriage to the king there was held
within the humble walls of her little room a meeting which was destined
to cause untold misery to many hundreds of thousands of people, and yet,
in the wisdom of Providence, to be an instrument in carrying French arts
and French ingenuity and French sprightliness among those heavier
Teutonic peoples who have been the stronger and the better ever since
for the leaven which they t