“I know you are going to take the treaty there,” answered Jacques; “and I will guide you through the Pyrenees by roads unknown to man.  But I shall be horribly vexed to go away without having wrung the neck of that old he-goat, whom we leave behind, like a knight in the midst of a game of chess.  Once more Monsieur,” he continued with an air of pious earnestness, “if you have any religion in you, refuse no longer; recollect the words of our theological fathers, Hurtado de Mendoza and Sanchez, who have proved that a man may secretly kill his enemies, since by this means he avoids two sins—­that of exposing his life, and that of fighting a duel.  It is in accordance with this grand consolatory principle that I have always acted.”

“Go, go!” said Cinq-Mars, in a voice thick with rage; “I have other things to think of.”

“Of what more important?” said Fontrailles; “this might be a great weight in the balance of our destinies.”

“I am thinking how much the heart of a king weighs in it,” said Cinq-Mars.

“You terrify me,” replied the gentleman; “we can not go so far as that!”

“Nor do I think what you suppose, Monsieur,” continued D’Effiat, in a severe tone.  “I was merely reflecting how kings complain when a subject betrays them.  Well, war! war! civil war, foreign war, let your fires be kindled! since I hold the match, I will apply it to the mine.  Perish the State! perish twenty kingdoms, if necessary!  No ordinary calamities suffice when the King betrays the subject.  Listen to me.”

And he took Fontrailles a few steps aside.

“I only charged you to prepare our retreat and succors, in case of abandonment on the part of the King.  Just now I foresaw this abandonment in his forced manifestation of friendship; and I decided upon your setting out when he finished his conversation by announcing his departure for Perpignan.  I feared Narbonne; I now see that he is going there to deliver himself up a prisoner to the Cardinal.  Go at once.  I add to the letters I have given you the treaty here; it is in fictitious names, but here is the counterpart, signed by Monsieur, by the Duc de Bouillon, and by me.  The Count-Duke of Olivares desires nothing further.  There are blanks for the Duc d’Orleans, which you will fill up as you please.  Go; in a month I shall expect you at Perpignan.  I will have Sedan opened to the seventeen thousand Spaniards from Flanders.”

Then, advancing toward the adventurer, who awaited him, he said: 

“For you, brave fellow, since you desire to aid me, I charge you with escorting this gentleman to Madrid; you will be largely recompensed.”

Jacques, twisting his moustache, replied: