“Sire,” said De Luynes approaching the monarch, the querulousness of whose manner warned him that unless he caused him to fear for his personal safety Louis would rather retire from the struggle than brave the anger of his mother, of whom he even now stood as much in awe as he had done during his childhood, “I see that the moment is at length come in which I must peril my own security in order to ensure that of your Majesty.  You have no longer an alternative if you desire to escape the machinations of the Marechal d’Ancre.  I have sure information that an attempt is about to be made to seize your person, and to take you out of the country.”

“You rave, De Luynes!” exclaimed Louis, whose cheeks blanched at this unexpected announcement.

“Would that I did, Sire,” was the reply; “but should you not adopt immediate measures for circumventing the traitor whom I have denounced to you at the hazard of my own life, you will find that I have only too much foundation for the assertion that I have made.”

“In that case,” vehemently retorted the young King, grasping the hilt of his sword, “it is indeed time that France should recognize her legitimate ruler, and that her monarch won his golden spurs.  I will leave Paris, and place myself at the head of my army.”

“Concini will then remain in undisputed possession of the capital,” remarked De Luynes coldly.

“What is my alternative, Albert?” demanded Louis, utterly discouraged.  “Name it, and I will no sooner have become in fact as well as name the sovereign of France than you shall receive the baton of a marshal,”

“Commit M. d’Ancre to the Bastille, Sire.  It is difficult to conspire within the gates of that fortress.”

“Where shall I find an individual hardy enough to undertake such an enterprise?”

“I will present him to your Majesty within an hour, Sire.”

“So be it, M. le Marechal,” said Louis as he turned away.  “My mother had the courage to provide a lodging for the first Prince of the Blood in the same prison, and I do not see why I should shrink from compelling him to share his dungeon with the husband of Leonora Galigai.”

While this plot was forming in the closet of the young King, Marie de Medicis was warned on her side that should she not adopt the most stringent measures to counteract the intrigues of De Luynes, she would soon lose all her authority over the mind of her son, who had latterly betrayed increased impatience of her control; and who was evidently desirous to emancipate himself from the thraldom to which he had hitherto so patiently submitted.  Bassompierre among others, with his usual frankness, replied to his royal mistress, when she urged him to declare his sentiments upon the subject:  “You have been well advised, Madame; you do not sufficiently consider your own interests; and one of these days the King will be taken from beneath your wing.  His adherents have commenced