less direct, addressed to the Prince thanks which could be heard by the
minister, and burned at the feet of the one incense which was intended
for the other. As for Richelieu, bowing and smiling to right and left,
he stepped forward and stood at the right hand of the King as his natural
place. A stranger entering would rather have thought, indeed, that it
was the King who was on the Cardinal's left hand. The Marechal
d'Estrees, all the ambassadors, the Duc d'Angouleme, the Due d'Halluin
(Schomberg), the Marechal de Chatillon, and all the great officers of the
crown surrounded him, each waiting impatiently for the compliments of the
others to be finished, in order to pay his own, fearing lest some one
else should anticipate him with the flattering epigram he had just
improvised, or the phrase of adulation he was inventing.

As for Fabert, he had retired to a corner of the tent, and seemed to have
paid no particular attention to the scene. He was chatting with
Montresor and the gentlemen of Monsieur, all sworn enemies of the
Cardinal, because, out of the throng he avoided, he had found none but
these to speak to. This conduct would have seemed extremely tactless in
one less known; but although he lived in the midst of the court, he was
ever ignorant of its intrigues. It was said of him that he returned from
a battle he had gained, like the King's hunting-horse, leaving the dogs
to caress their master and divide the quarry, without seeking even to
remember the part he had had in the triumph.

The storm, then, seemed entirely appeased, and to the violent agitations
of the morning succeeded a gentle calm. A respectful murmur, varied with
pleasant laughter and protestations of attachment, was all that was heard
in the tent. The voice of the Cardinal arose from time to time: "The
poor Queen! We shall, then, soon again see her! I never had dared to
hope for such happiness while I lived!" The King listened to him with