The Chevalier de Grammont was now rich, and Mazarin worshipped the rich.  He was witty; and his wit soon procured him admission into the clique whom the wily Mazarin collected around him in Paris.  Whatever were De Grammont’s faults, he soon perceived those of Mazarin; he detected, and he detested, the wily, grasping, serpent-like attributes of the Italian; he attacked him on every occasion on which a ‘wit combat’ was possible:  he gracefully showed Mazarin off in his true colours.  With ease he annihilated him, metaphorically, at his own table.  Yet De Grammont had something to atone for:  he had been the adherent and companion in arms of Conde; he had followed that hero to Sens, to Nordlingen, to Fribourg, and had returned to his allegiance to the young king, Louis XIV., only because he wished to visit the court at Paris.  Mazarin’s policy, however, was that of pardon and peace—­of duplicity and treachery—­and the Chevalier seemed to be forgiven on his return to Paris, even by Anne of Austria.  Nevertheless, De Grammont never lost his independence; and he could boast in after-life that he owed the two great cardinals who had governed France nothing that they could have refused.  It was true that Richelieu had left him his abbacy; but he could not refuse it to one of De Grammont’s rank.  From Mazarin he had gained nothing except what he had won at play.

After Mazarin’s death the Chevalier intended to secure the favour of the king, Louis XIV., to whom, as he rejoiced to find, court alone was now to be paid.  He had now somewhat rectified his distinctions between right and wrong, and was resolved to have no regard for favour unless supported by merit; he determined to make himself beloved by the courtiers of Louis, and feared by the ministers; to dare to undertake anything to do good, and to engage in nothing at the expense of innocence.  He still continued to be eminently successful in play, of which he did not perceive the evil, nor allow the wickedness; but he was unfortunate in love, in which he was equally unscrupulous and more rash than at the gaming-table.

Among the maids of honour of Anne of Austria was a young lady named Anne Lucie de la Mothe Houdancourt.  Louis, though not long married, showed some symptoms of admiration for this debutante in the wicked ways of the court.

Gay, radiant in the bloom of youth and innocence, the story of this young girl presents an instance of the unhappiness which, without guilt, the sins of others bring upon even the virtuous.  The queen-dowager, Anne of Austria, was living at St. Germains when Mademoiselle de la Mothe Houdancourt was received into her household.  The Duchess de Noailles, at that time Grande Maitresse, exercised a vigilant and kindly rule over the maids of honour; nevertheless, she could not prevent their being liable to the attentions of Louis:  she forbade him however to loiter, or indeed even to be seen in the room appropriated to the young damsels under her charge; and when attracted by the beauty of Annie Lucie de la Mothe, Louis was obliged to speak to her through a hole behind a clock which stood in a corridor.