In ten minutes Mazarin and his party were traversing thestreet "Les Bons Enfants" behind the theatre built byRichelieu expressly for the play of "Mirame," and in whichMazarin, who was an amateur of music, but not of literature,had introduced into France the first opera that was everacted in that country.

The appearance of the town denoted the greatest agitation.Numberless groups paraded the streets and, whateverD'Artagnan might think of it, it was obvious that thecitizens had for the night laid aside their usualforbearance, in order to assume a warlike aspect. From timeto time noises came in the direction of the public markets.The report of firearms was heard near the Rue Saint Denisand occasionally church bells began to ring indiscriminatelyand at the caprice of the populace. D'Artagnan, meantime,pursued his way with the indifference of a man upon whomsuch acts of folly made no impression. When he approached agroup in the middle of the street he urged his horse upon itwithout a word of warning; and the members of the group,whether rebels or not, as if they knew with what sort of aman they had to deal, at once gave place to the patrol. Thecardinal envied that composure, which he attributed to thehabit of meeting danger; but none the less he conceived forthe officer under whose orders he had for the moment placedhimself, that consideration which even prudence pays tocareless courage. On approaching an outpost near theBarriere des Sergens, the sentinel cried out, "Who's there?"and D'Artagnan answered - having first asked the word ofthe cardinal - "Louis and Rocroy." After which he inquiredif Lieutenant Comminges were not the commanding officer atthe outpost. The soldier replied by pointing out to him anofficer who was conversing, on foot, his hand upon the neckof a horse on which the individual to whom he was talkingsat. Here was the officer D'Artagnan was seeking.

"Here is Monsieur Comminges," said D'Artagnan, returning tothe cardinal. He instantly retired, from a feeling ofrespectful delicacy; it was, however, evident that thecardinal was recognized by both Comminges and the otherofficers on horseback.

"Well done, Guitant," cried the cardinal to the equestrian;"I see plainly that, notwithstanding the sixty-four yearsthat have passed over your head, you are still the same man,active and zealous. What were you saying to this youngster?"

"My lord," replied Guitant, "I was observing that we live introublous times and that to-day's events are very like thosein the days of the Ligue, of which I heard so much in myyouth. Are you aware that the mob have even suggestedthrowing up barricades in the Rue Saint Denis and the RueSaint Antoine?"

"And what was Comminges saying to you in reply, my goodGuitant?"

"My lord," said Comminges, "I answered that to compose aLigue only one ingredient was wanting - in my opinion anessential one - a Duc de Guise; moreover, no generationever does the same thing twice."

"No, but they mean to make a Fronde, as they call it," saidGuitant.

"And what is a Fronde?" inquired Mazarin.

"My lord, Fronde is the name the discontented give to theirparty."

"And what is the origin of this name?"

"It seems that some days since Councillor Bachaumontremarked at the palace that rebels and agitators remindedhim of schoolboys slinging - qui frondent - stones fromthe moats round Paris, young urchins who run off the momentthe constable appears, only to return to their diversion theinstant his back is turned. So they have picked up the wordand the insurrectionists are called `Frondeurs,' andyesterday every article sold was `a la Fronde;' bread `a laFronde,' hats `a la Fronde,' to say nothing of gloves,pocket-handkerchiefs, and fans; but listen - - "

At that moment a window opened and a man began to sing:

"A tempest from the Fronde

Did blow to-day:

I think 'twill blow

Sieur Mazarin away."

"Insolent wretch!" cried Guitant.

"My lord," said Comminges, who, irritated by his wounds,wished for revenge and longed to give back blow for blow,"shall I fire off a ball to punish that jester, and to warnhim not to sing so much out of tune in the future?"

And as he spoke he put his hand on the holster of hisuncle's saddle-bow.

"Certainly not! certainly not," exclaimed Mazarin. "Diavolo!my dear friend, you are going to spoil everything - everything is going on famously. I know the French as wellas if I had made them myself. They sing - let them pay thepiper. During the Ligue, about which Guitant was speakingjust now, the people chanted nothing except the mass, soeverything went to destruction. Come, Guitant, come along,and let's see if they keep watch at the Quinze-Vingts as atthe Barriere des Sergens."

And waving his hand to Comminges he rejoined D'Artagnan, whoinstantly put himself at the head of his troop, followed bythe cardinal, Guitant and the rest of the escort.

"Just so," muttered Comminges, looking after Mazarin. "True,I forgot; provided he can get money out of the people, thatis all he wants."

The street of Saint Honore, when the cardinal and his partypassed through it, was crowded by an assemblage who,standing in groups, discussed the edicts of that memorableday. They pitied the young king, who was unconsciouslyruining his country, and threw all the odium of hisproceedings on Mazarin. Addresses to the Duke of Orleans andto Conde were suggested. Blancmesnil and Broussel seemed inthe highest favor.

D'Artagnan passed through the very midst of thisdiscontented mob just as if his horse and he had been madeof iron. Mazarin and Guitant conversed together in whispers.The musketeers, who had already discovered who Mazarin was,followed in profound silence. In the street of SaintThomas-du-Louvre they stopped at the barrier distinguishedby the name of Quinze-Vingts. Here Guitant spoke to one ofthe subalterns, asking how matters were progressing.

"Ah, captain!" said the officer, "everything is quiethereabout - if I did not know that something is going on inyonder house!"

And he pointed to a magnificent hotel situated on the veryspot whereon the Vaudeville now stands.

"In that hotel? it is the Hotel Rambouillet," cried Guitant.

"I really don't know what hotel it is; all I do know is thatI observed some suspicious looking people go in there - - "

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Guitant, with a burst of laughter;"those men must be poets."

"Come, Guitant, speak, if you please, respectfully of thesegentlemen," said Mazarin; "don't you know that I was in myyouth a poet? I wrote verses in the style of Benserade - - "

"You, my lord?"

"Yes, I; shall I repeat to you some of my verses?"

"Just as you please, my lord. I do not understand Italian."

"Yes, but you understand French," and Mazarin laid his handupon Guitant's shoulder. "My good, my brave Guitant,whatsoever command I may give you in that language - inFrench - whatever I may order you to do, will you notperform it?"

"Certainly. I have already answered that question in theaffirmative; but that command must come from the queenherself."

"Yes! ah yes!" Mazarin bit his lips as he spoke; "I knowyour devotion to her majesty."

"I have been a captain in the queen's guards for twentyyears," was the reply.

"En route, Monsieur d'Artagnan," said the cardinal; "allgoes well in this direction."

D'Artagnan, in the meantime, had taken the head of hisdetachment without a word and with that ready and profoundobedience which marks the character of an old soldier.

He led the way toward the hill of Saint Roche. The RueRichelieu and the Rue Villedot were then, owing to theirvicinity to the ramparts, less frequented than any others inthat direction, for the town was thinly inhabitedthereabout.

"Who is in command here?" asked the cardinal.

"Villequier," said Guitant.

"Diavolo! Speak to him yourself, for ever since you weredeputed by me to arrest the Duc de Beaufort, this officerand I have been on bad terms. He laid claim to that honor ascaptain of the royal guards."

"I am aware of that, and I have told him a hundred timesthat he was wrong. The king could not give that order, sinceat that time he was hardly four years old."

"Yes, but I could give him the order - I, Guitant - and Ipreferred to give it to you."

Guitant, without reply, rode forward and desired thesentinel to call Monsieur de Villequier.

"Ah! so you are here!" cried the officer, in the tone ofill-humor habitual to him; "what the devil are you doinghere?"

"I wish to know - can you tell me, pray - is anythingfresh occurring in this part of the town?"

"What do you mean? People cry out, `Long live the king! downwith Mazarin!' That's nothing new; no, we've been used tothose acclamations for some time."

"And you sing chorus," replied Guitant, laughing.

"Faith, I've half a mind to do it. In my opinion the peopleare right; and cheerfully would I give up five years of mypay - which I am never paid, by the way - to make the kingfive years older."

"Really! And pray what would come to pass, supposing theking were five years older than he is?"

"As soon as ever the king comes of age he will issue hiscommands himself, and 'tis far pleasanter to obey thegrandson of Henry IV. than the son of Peter Mazarin.'Sdeath! I would die willingly for the king, but supposing Ihappened to be killed on account of Mazarin, as your nephewcame near being to-day, there could be nothing in Paradise,however well placed I might be there, that could console mefor it."

"Well, well, Monsieur de Villequier," Mazarin interposed, "Ishall make it my care the king hears of your loyalty. Come,gentlemen," addressing the troop, "let us return."

"Stop," exclaimed Villequier, "so Mazarin was here! so muchthe better. I have been waiting for a long time to tell himwhat I think of him. I am obliged to you Guitant, althoughyour intention was perhaps not very favorable to me, forsuch an opportunity."

He turned away and went off to his post, whistling a tunethen popular among the party called the "Fronde," whilstMazarin returned, in a pensive mood, toward the PalaisRoyal. All that he had heard from these three different men,Comminges, Guitant and Villequier, confirmed him in hisconviction that in case of serious tumults there would be noone on his side except the queen; and then Anne of Austriahad so often deserted her friends that her support seemedmost precarious. During the whole of this nocturnal ride,during the whole time that he was endeavoring to understandthe various characters of Comminges, Guitant and Villequier,Mazarin was, in truth, studying more especially one man.This man, who had remained immovable as bronze when menacedby the mob - not a muscle of whose face was stirred, eitherat Mazarin's witticisms or by the jests of the multitude - seemed to the cardinal a peculiar being, who, havingparticipated in past events similar to those now occurring,was calculated to cope with those now on the eve of takingplace.

The name of D'Artagnan was not altogether new to Mazarin,who, although he did not arrive in France before the year1634 or 1635, that is to say, about eight or nine yearsafter the events which we have related in a precedingnarrative,* fancied he had heard it pronounced as that ofone who was said to be a model of courage, address andloyalty.

"The Three Musketeers."

Possessed by this idea, the cardinal resolved to know allabout D'Artagnan immediately; of course he could not inquirefrom D'Artagnan himself who he was and what had been hiscareer; he remarked, however, in the course of conversationthat the lieutenant of musketeers spoke with a Gasconaccent. Now the Italians and the Gascons are too much alikeand know each other too well ever to trust what any one ofthem may say of himself; so in reaching the walls whichsurrounded the Palais Royal, the cardinal knocked at alittle door, and after thanking D'Artagnan and requestinghim to wait in the court of the Palais Royal, he made a signto Guitant to follow him.

They both dismounted, consigned their horses to the lackeywho had opened the door, and disappeared in the garden.

"My dear friend," said the cardinal, leaning, as they walkedthrough the garden, on his friend's arm, "you told me justnow that you had been twenty years in the queen's service."

"Yes, it's true. I have," returned Guitant.

"Now, my dear Guitant, I have often remarked that inaddition to your courage, which is indisputable, and yourfidelity, which is invincible, you possess an admirablememory."

"You have found that out, have you, my lord? Deuce take it- all the worse for me!"

"How?"

"There is no doubt but that one of the chief accomplishmentsof a courtier is to know when to forget."

"But you, Guitant, are not a courtier. You are a bravesoldier, one of the few remaining veterans of the days ofHenry IV. Alas! how few to-day exist!"

"Plague on't, my lord, have you brought me here to get myhoroscope out of me?"

"No; I only brought you here to ask you," returned Mazarin,smiling, "if you have taken any particular notice of ourlieutenant of musketeers?"

"Monsieur d'Artagnan? I have had no occasion to notice himparticularly; he's an old acquaintance. He's a Gascon. DeTreville knows him and esteems him very highly, and DeTreville, as you know, is one of the queen's greatestfriends. As a soldier the man ranks well; he did his wholeduty and even more, at the siege of Rochelle - as at Suzeand Perpignan."

"But you know, Guitant, we poor ministers often want menwith other qualities besides courage; we want men of talent.Pray, was not Monsieur d'Artagnan, in the time of thecardinal, mixed up in some intrigue from which he came out,according to report, quite cleverly?"

"My lord, as to the report you allude to" - Guitantperceived that the cardinal wished to make him speak out - "I know nothing but what the public knows. I never meddle inintrigues, and if I occasionally become a confidant of theintrigues of others I am sure your eminence will approve ofmy keeping them secret."

Mazarin shook his head.

"Ah!" he said; "some ministers are fortunate and find outall that they wish to know."

"My lord," replied Guitant, "such ministers do not weigh menin the same balance; they get their information on war fromwarriors; on intrigues, from intriguers. Consult somepolitician of the period of which you speak, and if you paywell for it you will certainly get to know all you want."

"Eh, pardieu!" said Mazarin, with a grimace which he alwaysmade when spoken to about money. "They will be paid, ifthere is no way of getting out of it."

"Does my lord seriously wish me to name any one who wasmixed up in the cabals of that day?"

"By Bacchus!" rejoined Mazarin, impatiently, "it's about anhour since I asked you for that very thing, wooden-head thatyou are."

"There is one man for whom I can answer, if he will speakout."

"That's my concern; I will make him speak."

"Ah, my lord, 'tis not easy to make people say what theydon't wish to let out."

"Pooh! with patience one must succeed. Well, this man. Whois he?"

"The Comte de Rochefort."

"The Comte de Rochefort!"

"Unfortunately he has disappeared these four or five yearsand I don't know where he is."

"I know, Guitant," said Mazarin.

"Well, then, how is it that your eminence complained justnow of want of information?"

"You think," resumed Mazarin, "that Rochefort - - "

"He was Cardinal Richelieu's creature, my lord. I warn you,however, his services will cost you something. The cardinalwas lavish to his underlings."

"Yes, yes, Guitant," said Mazarin; "Richelieu was a greatman, a very great man, but he had that defect. Thanks,Guitant; I shall benefit by your advice this very evening."

Here they separated and bidding adieu to Guitant in thecourt of the Palais Royal, Mazarin approached an officer whowas walking up and down within that inclosure.

It was D'Artagnan, who was waiting for him.

"Cane hither," said Mazarin in his softest voice; "I have anorder to give you."

D'Artagnan bent low and following the cardinal up the secretstaircase, soon found himself in the study whence they hadfirst set out.

The cardinal seated himself before his bureau and taking asheet of paper wrote some lines upon it, whilst D'Artagnanstood imperturbable, without showing either impatience orcuriosity. He was like a soldierly automaton, or rather,like a magnificent marionette.

The cardinal folded and sealed his letter.

"Monsieur d'Artagnan," he said, "you are to take thisdispatch to the Bastile and bring back here the person itconcerns. You must take a carriage and an escort, and guardthe prisoner with the greatest care."

D'Artagnan took the letter, touched his hat with his hand,turned round upon his heel like a drill-sergeant, and amoment afterward was heard, in his dry and monotonous tone,commanding "Four men and an escort, a carriage and a horse."Five minutes afterward the wheels of the carriage and thehorses' shoes were heard resounding on the pavement of thecourtyard.