“Touching and invincible constraint to make you accept a throne,” said Cinq-Mars, bitterly.  “I well conceive you must need some efforts to resist such seductions; but first, Madame, I must release you from your vows.”

“Alas, great Heaven! what is there, then, against us?”

“There is God above us, and against us,” replied Henri, in a severe tone; “the King has deceived me.”

There was an agitated movement on the part of the Abbe.

Marie exclaimed, “I foresaw it; this is the misfortune I dreamed and dreamed of!  It is I who caused it?”

“He deceived me, as he pressed my hand,” continued Cinq-Mars; “he betrayed me by the villain Joseph, whom an offer has been made to me to poniard.”

The Abbe gave a start of horror which half opened the door of the confessional.

“O father, fear nothing,” said Henri d’Effiat; “your pupil will never strike such blows.  Those I prepare will be heard from afar, and the broad day will light them up; but there remains a duty—­a sacred duty—­for me to fulfil.  Behold your son sacrifice himself before you!  Alas!  I have not lived long in the sight of happiness, and I am about, perhaps, to destroy it by your hand, that consecrated it.”

As he spoke, he opened the light grating which separated him from his old tutor; the latter, still observing an extraordinary silence, passed his hood over his forehead.

“Restore this nuptial ring to the Duchesse de Mantua,” said Cinq-Mars, in a tone less firm; “I can not keep it unless she give it me a second time, for I am not the same whom she promised to espouse.”

The priest hastily seized the ring, and passed it through the opposite grating; this mark of indifference astonished Cinq-Mars.

“What!  Father,” he said, “are you also changed?”

Marie wept no longer; but, raising her angelic voice, which awakened a faint echo along the aisles of the church, as the softest sigh of the organ, she said, returning the ring to Cinq-Mars: 

“O dearest, be not angry!  I comprehend you not.  Can we break asunder what God has just united, and can I leave you, when I know you are unhappy?  If the King no longer loves you, at least you may be assured he will not harm you, since he has not harmed the Cardinal, whom he never loved.  Do you think yourself undone, because he is perhaps unwilling to separate from his old servant?  Well, let us await the return of his friendship; forget these conspirators, who affright me.  If they give up hope, I shall thank Heaven, for then I shall no longer tremble for you.  Why needlessly afflict ourselves?  The Queen loves us, and we are both very young; let us wait.  The future is beautiful, since we are united and sure of ourselves.  Tell me what the King said to you at Chambord.  I followed you long with my eyes.  Heavens! how sad to me was that hunting party!”