The Red Mask | Page 3

taking me by the hand, he pressed it warmly.
"Thanks, my friend, thanks!" he murmured, "you at least are true, true as the steel you wear and honour, and so long as this weak hand of mine can sway men's fortunes, so long as I live, you shall not be forgotten. But go now, Cavaignac, leave me; André may return at any moment, and it would awaken his suspicions to find you here, for there are none so suspicious as traitors. Await my orders in the ante-chamber, as usual."
"But is it safe to leave your Eminence alone with him?" I cried, in some concern.
He laughed softly.
"Think you the knave is eager to enjoy the gibbet he has earned as Montfaucon?" he said. "Nay, have no fear, it will not come to violence."
"A rat at bay is a dangerous foe," I answered.
"I know, I know," he replied, "and so I have taken my precautions--unnecessary as I think them--voyez!" and as he opened his scarlet robe I beheld the glitter of a shirt of mail beneath.
"'Tis well," I replied, and, bowing, I withdrew.
In the dark and silent ante-chamber--for the pages and their ungodly toys were gone when I returned--I paced slowly to and fro, musing sadly over all that the Cardinal had said, and cursing in my heart that dog André. So bitter did I feel towards the villainous traitor, that, when at the end of half an hour I beheld him standing before me with a false smile upon his pale countenance, it was only by an effort that I refrained from striking him.
"Here is your domino, Monsieur de Cavaignac," he said, placing a long dark garment upon a chair back.
"Is his Eminence ready?" I inquired, in a surly tone. As my tone was usually a surly one, there was no reason why it should affect André upon this occasion; nor did it.
"His Eminence is almost ready," he replied. "He wishes you to wait in the study."
This was unusual and set me thinking. The conclusion I arrived at was that Mazarin had not yet opened his campaign against the luckless servant, but wished to have me within call when he did so.
Without a word to André I unbuckled my sword, as was my custom, and begged him to take it to my room, since I should have no further use for it that night.
"I cannot, Monsieur de Cavaignac," he answered; "you will pardon me, but his Eminence desired me to return at once. He is feeling slightly indisposed, and wishes me to accompany him to the Louvre to-night."
I was surprised indeed, but I did not betray myself by so much as a look. The ways of the Cardinal were strange and unfathomable, especially where justice was concerned, and I was well accustomed to them.
"Indeed!" I replied, gravely. "I trust that it prove nothing serious."
"God forbid!" cried the hypocrite, as he held the door for me to pass into the study; "think, Monsieur de Cavaignac, think what a loss it would be to France if anything were to happen to Monseigneur."
He crossed himself devoutly and his lips moved as if in prayer.
And I, infected by his pious mood, offered up a prayer to heaven with him, a prayer as fervent as any that my heart had ever formed, a prayer that the torturers might have his weakly body to toy with, before it was finally consigned to the hangman at Montfaucon.
When he had left me in the study, I leisurely donned the domino that he had brought me, and judging by what I knew must be taking place within the bedchamber that I should have to wait some little time, I seated myself and listened attentively for any sounds that might pierce the tapestried walls.
But strain my ears as I would, all that I caught was a piteous wail of the words:
"Je le jure!" followed by the Cardinal's laugh--so dreadful, so pitiless, so condemning--and the one word, "Forsworn!" then all became silent again.
I accounted for this by the knowledge that the Cardinal seldom raised, but rather lowered his voice, when angered, whilst André, aware of my vicinity, would probably take pains to keep his expostulations from my ears.
At length the door opened, and a figure emerged, clad in a black domino, the hood of which was so closely drawn over his head that I could not see whether he wore a mask or not. Behind him came another similarly clad, and so completely does a domino conceal the outlines of a figure that I did not know which was the Cardinal and which the valet, since they were both, more or less, of the same height. Nor, for that matter, would it have been possible to discern whether they were men or women.
"Are you there, Cavignac?" said Mazarin's voice.
"Here, your Eminence," I cried,