est had burst
upon the only head available--Eugene de Canaples's--and the Cardinal had
answered his jibes with interest by calling upon Montresor to arrest the
fellow and bear him to the Bastille.

When the astonished and sobered Canaples had indignantly asked upon what
charge he was being robbed of his liberty, the Cardinal had laughed
at him, and answered with his never-failing axiom that "He who sings,
pays."

"You sang lustily enough just now," his Eminence had added, "and you
shall pay by lodging awhile in an oubliette of the Bastille, where you
may lift up your voice to sing the De profundis."

"Was my name not mentioned?" I anxiously inquired when Montresor had
finished.

"Not once. You may depend that I should have remarked it. After I had
taken Canaples away, the Cardinal, I am told, sat down, and, still
trembling with rage, wrote a letter which he straightway dispatched to
the Chevalier Armand de Canaples, at Blois.

"No doubt," I mused, "he attributes much blame to me for what has come
to pass."

"Not a doubt of it. This morning he said to me that it was a pity your
wings had not been clipped before you left Paris, and that his misplaced
clemency had helped to bring him great misfortunes. You see, therefore,
M. de Luynes, that your sojourn in France will be attended with great
peril. I advise you to try Spain; 't is a martial country where a man of
the sword may find honourable and even profitable employment."

His counsel I deemed sound. But how follow it? Then of a sudden I
bethought me of Madame de Chevreuse's friendly letter. Doubtless she
would assist me once again, and in such an extremity as this. And with
the conception of the thought came the resolution to visit her on the
morrow. That formed, I gave myself up to the task of drinking M. de
Montresor under the table with an abandon which had not been mine for
months. In each goblet that I drained, methought I saw Yvonne's sweet
face floating on the surface of the red Armagnac; it looked now sad, now
reproachful, still I drank on, and in each cup I pledged her.

CHAPTER XX. OF HOW THE CHEVALIER DE CANAPLES BECAME A FRONDEUR

It wanted an hour or so to noon next day as I drove across the Pont Neuf
in a closed carriage, and was borne down the Rue St. Dominique to the
portals of that splendid palace, facing the Jacobins, which bears the
title of the "Hotel de Luynes," and over the portals of which is carved
the escutcheon of our house.