t presently I laughed myself out of the puerile
humour that was besetting me, and, finding myself chilled by inaction in
my wet clothes, I set off for the Palais Royal at a pace that was first
cousin to a run.

Ten minutes later I stood in the presence of the most feared and hated
man in France.

"Cospetto!" cried Mazarin as I entered his cabinet. "Have you swum the
Seine in your clothes?"

"No, your Eminence, but I have been serving you in the rain for the past
hour."

He smiled that peculiar smile of his that rendered hateful his otherwise
not ill-favoured countenance. It was a smile of the lips in which the
eyes had no part.

"Yes," he said slowly, "I have heard of your achievements."

"You have heard?" I ejaculated, amazed by the powers which this man
wielded.

"Yes, I have heard. You are a brave man, M. de Luynes."

"Pshaw, your Eminence!" I deprecated; "the poor are always brave. They
have naught to lose but their life, and that is not so sweet to them
that they lay much store by it. Howbeit, Monseigneur, your wishes have
been carried out. There will be no duel at St. Germain this evening."

"Will there not? Hum! I am not so confident. You are a brave man, M. de
Luynes, but you lack that great auxiliary of valour--discretion. What
need to fling into the teeth of those fine gentlemen the reason you had
for spitting Canaples, eh? You have provoked a dozen enemies for Andrea
where only one existed."

"I will answer for all of them," I retorted boastfully.

"Fine words, M. de Luynes; but to support them how many men will you
have to kill? Pah! What if some fine morning there comes one who,
despite your vaunted swordsmanship, proves your master? What will become
of that fool, my nephew, eh?"

And his uncanny smile again beamed on me. "Andrea is now packing his
valise. In an hour he will have left Paris secretly. He goes--but what
does it signify where he goes? He is compelled by your indiscretion
to withdraw from Court. Had you kept a close tongue in your foolish
head--but there! you did not, and so by a thoughtless word you undid all
that you had done so well. You may go, M. de Luynes. I have no further
need of you--and thank Heaven that you leave the Palais Royal free to go
whither your fancy takes you, and not to journey to the Bastille or to
Vincennes. I am merciful, M. de Luynes--as merciful as you are brave;
more merciful than you are prudent. One word of warning, M. de Luynes:
do not let me learn