consideration of how far I was victim of circumstance. Did I tell
him that I was Bardelys, I was convinced that I should never leave
the chateau alive. Very noble-hearted was the Vicomte, and no man
have I known more averse to bloodthirstiness, but he had told me
much during the days that I had lain abed, and many lives would be
jeopardized did I proclaim what I had learned from him. Hence I
argued that any disclosure of my identity must perforce drive him
to extreme measures for the sake of the friends he had unwittingly
betrayed.

On the day after Rodenard's departure I dined with the family, and
met again Mademoiselle de Lavedan, whom I had not seen since the
balcony adventure of some nights ago. The Vicomtesse was also
present, a lady of very austere and noble appearance - lean as a
pike and with a most formidable nose - but, as I was soon to
discover, with a mind inclining overmuch to scandal and the
high-seasoned talk of the Courts in which her girlhood had been
spent.

From her lips I heard that day the old, scandalous story of
Monseigneur de Richelieu's early passion for Anne of Austria. With
much unction did she tell us how the Queen had lured His Eminence
to dress himself in the motley of a jester that she might make a
mock of him in the eyes of the courtiers she had concealed behind
the arras of her chamber.

This anecdote she gave us with much wealth of discreditable detail
and scant regard for either her daughter's presence or for the
blushes that suffused the poor child's cheeks. In every way she was
a pattern of the class of women amongst whom my youth had been spent,