D’Effiat’s eyes were inflamed with anger; he stamped his foot as he spoke, and turned his back to the King, like a sulky child, leaning against one of the columns of the cupola.

Louis, who recoiled before all resolution, and who was always terrified by the irreparable, took his hand.

O weakness of power!  O caprices of the human heart! it was by this childish impetuosity, these very defects of his age, that this young man governed the King of France as effectually as did the first politician of the time.  This Prince believed, and with some show of reason, that a character so hasty must be sincere; and even his fiery rage did not anger him.  It did not apply to the real subject of his reproaches, and he could well pardon him for hating the Cardinal.  The very idea of his favorite’s jealousy of the minister pleased him, because it indicated attachment; and all he dreaded was his indifference.  Cinq-Mars knew this, and had desired to make it a means of escape, preparing the King to regard all that he had done as child’s play, as the consequence of his friendship for him; but the danger was not so great, and he breathed freely when the Prince said to him: 

“The Cardinal is not in question here.  I love him no more than you do; but it is with your scandalous conduct I reproach you, and which I shall have much difficulty to pardon in you.  What, Monsieur!  I learn that instead of devoting yourself to the pious exercises to which I have accustomed you, when I fancy you are at your Salut or your Angelus—­you are off from Saint Germain, and go to pass a portion of the night—­with whom?  Dare I speak of it without sin?  With a woman lost in reputation, who can have no relations with you but such as are pernicious to the safety of your soul, and who receives free-thinkers at her house—­in a word, Marion de Lorme.  What have you to say?  Speak.”

Leaving his hand in that of the King, but still leaning against the column, Cinq-Mars answered: 

“Is it then so culpable to leave grave occupations for others more serious still?  If I go to the house of Marion de Lorme, it is to hear the conversation of the learned men who assemble there.  Nothing is more harmless than these meetings.  Readings are given there which, it is true, sometimes extend far into the night, but which commonly tend to exalt the soul, so far from corrupting it.  Besides, you have never commanded me to account to you for all that I do; I should have informed you of this long ago if you had desired it.”

“Ah, Cinq-Mars, Cinq-Mars! where is your confidence?  Do you feel no need of it?  It is the first condition of a perfect friendship, such as ours ought to be, such as my heart requires.”

The voice of Louis became more affectionate, and the favorite, looking at him over his shoulder, assumed an air less angry, but still simply ennuye, and resigned to listening to him.

“How often have you deceived me!” continued the King; “can I trust myself to you?  Are they not fops and gallants whom you meet at the house of this woman?  Do not courtesans go there?”