t a project
that men dared to form in the most secret recesses of the heart, not a
thought which did not proceed from his. Mute Europe listened to him by
its representatives. From time to time he raise an imperious voice, and
threw a self-satisfied word to this pompous circle, as a man who throws a
copper coin among a crowd of beggars. Then might be distinguished, by the
pride which lit up his looks and the joy visible in his countenance, the
prince who had received such a favor.

Transformed into another man, he seemed to have made a step in the
hierarchy of power, so surrounded with unlooked-for adorations and sudden
caresses was the fortunate courtier, whose obscure happiness the Cardinal
did not even perceive. The King's brother and the Duc de Bouillon stood
in the crowd, whence the minister did not deign to withdraw them. Only he
ostentatiously said that it would be well to dismantle a few fortresses,
spoke at length of the necessity of pavements and quays at Paris, and
said in two words to Turenne that he might perhaps be sent to the army in
Italy, to seek his baton as marechal from Prince Thomas.

While Richelieu thus played with the great and small things of Europe,
amid his noisy fete, the Queen was informed at the Louvre that the time
was come for her to proceed to the Cardinal's palace, where the King
awaited her after the tragedy. The serious Anne of Austria did not
witness any play; but she could not refuse her presence at the fete of
the Prime-Minister. She was in her oratory, ready to depart, and covered
with pearls, her favorite ornament; standing opposite a large glass with
Marie de Mantua, she was arranging more to her satisfaction one or two
details of the young Duchess's toilette, who, dressed in a long pink
robe, was herself contemplating with attention, though with somewhat of
ennui and a little sullenness, the ensemble of her appearance.

She saw her own work in Marie, and, more troubled, thought with deep
apprehension of the moment when this transient calm would cease, despite
the profound knowledge she had of the feeling but frivolous character of
Marie. Since the conversation at St.-Germain (the fatal letter), she had
not quitted the young Princess, and had bestowed all her care to lead her
mind to the path which she had traced out for her, for the most decided
feature in the character of Anne of Austria was an invincible obstinacy
in her calculations, to which she would fain have subjected al