The Red Mask | Page 3

well that all he said was true, and
being no lisping courtier, to whom the art of falsehood comes as
naturally as that of breathing, but a blunt soldier who spoke but what
was in my heart, I held my peace.
With those keen eyes of his he read what was in my mind; 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