er, he was a soldier. "I refuse to tell you, Monseigneur.
It is unfair of you to ask me."

"So be it. For the sake of your father, the marquis,--and I have often
wondered why you never assume your lawful title,--for the sake of your
father, then, who is still remembered kindly by her Majesty, I shall
not send you to the Bastille as was my original intention. Your exile
shall be in the sum of five years. You are to remain in France. If
you rebel and draw your sword against your country, confiscation and
death. You are also prohibited from offering your services to France
against any nation she may be at war with. If within these five years
you set foot inside of Paris, the Bastille, with an additional three
years."

"Monseigneur, that is severe punishment for a man whose only crime is
the possession of a grey cloak."

"Death of my life! I am not punishing you; I am punishing the man who
killed De Brissac. Come, come, Monsieur le Comte," in a kindly tone;
"do not be a fool, do not throw away a brilliant career for the sake of
a friendship. I who know tell you that it is not worth while.
Friendship, I have learned, is but a guise for self-interest."

The Chevalier, having nothing to say, bowed.

"Go, then, to your estates." Mazarin was angry. "Mark me, I shall
find this friend of yours, but I shall not remit one hour of your
punishment. Messieurs," turning to the musketeers, "conduct Monsieur
le Chevalier to his lodgings and remain with him till dawn, when you
will show him the road to Orleans. And remember, he must see no one."
Then Mazarin went back to the gallery and resumed his game. "What! De
Meilleraye, you have won only three louis? Give me the cards; and tell
his Grace of Gramont that I am weary of his discords."

"Monsieur le Chevalier," said one of the musketeers, waking the
Chevalier from his stupor, "pardon us a disagreeable duty."

The other musketeer restored the Chevalier's rapier.

"Proceed, Messieurs," said the Chevalier, picking up his hat and
thrusting his sword into its scabbard; "I dare say this moment is
distasteful to us all."

The musketeers conducted him through the secret staircase to the court
below. The Duc de Beaufort, who had been waiting, came forward.

"Stand back, Messieurs," said the prince; "I have a word to say to
Monsieur le Chevalier."

Mazarin's word was much, but the soldier loved his Beaufort. The two
musketeers withdrew a dozen paces.

"Monsieur,