slept in
Fontainebleau, I say so truthfully. Your Eminence will tell me the
cause of this peculiar interrogatory. There is an accusation pending."
There was no fear in the Chevalier's face, but there was pride and
courage and something bordering closely on contempt.

"Very well, then," replied Mazarin icily. "You were in Paris last
night. You had an appointment at the Hotel de Brissac. You entered by
a window. Being surprised by the aged Brissac, you killed him."

The musketeers, who knew the Chevalier's courage, exchanged glances of
surprise and disbelief. As for the accused, he stepped back, horrified.

"Monseigneur, one or the other of us is mad! I pray God that it be
myself; for it can not be possible that the first minister in France
would accuse of such a crime a gentleman who not only possesses courage
but pride."

"Weigh your words, Monsieur le Chevalier," warned the cardinal. The
Chevalier's tone was not pleasing to his cardinal's ear.

"You ask me to weigh my words, Monseigneur?--to weigh my words?" with a
gesture which caused the musketeers to draw closer to Mazarin, "Oh, I
am calm, gentlemen; I am calm!" He threw his hat to the floor, drew
his sword and tossed it beside the hat, and folding his arms he said,
his voice full of sudden wrath--wrath, against the ironical turn of
fortune which had changed his cup of wine into salt:--"Now,
Monseigneur, I demand of you that privilege which belongs to and is
inseparable from my house: the right to face my accusers."

"I warn you, Monsieur," said Mazarin, "I like not this manner you
assume. There were witnesses, and trustworthy ones. Yon may rely upon
that."

"Trustworthy? That is not possible. I did not know De Brissac. I
have never exchanged a word with him."

"It is not advanced that you knew Monsieur le Comte. But there was
madame, who, it is said, was at one time affianced to you." Mazarin
was a keen physiognomist; and as he read the utter bewilderment written
on the Chevalier's face, his own grew somewhat puzzled.

"Monseigneur, as our Lady is witness, I have never, to my knowledge,
set eyes upon Madame de Brissac, though it is true that at one time it
was my father's wish that I should wed Mademoiselle de Montbazon."

"Monsieur, when a man wears such fashionable clothes as you wear, he
naturally fixes the memory, becomes conspicuous. Do not forget the
grey cloak, Monsieur le Chevalier."

"The grey cloak?" The Chevalier's face bri