The girl drew back and placed a finger upon her forehead.

“I had forgotten it,” said she; “you have talked to me too much.  I had overlooked this idea, and yet it is an important one; it is for that that I have condemned myself to the hunger which is killing me.  I must accomplish it, or I shall die first.  Ah,” said she, putting her hand beneath her robe in her bosom, whence she appeared to take something, “behold it! this idea—­”

She suddenly blushed, and her eyes widened extraordinarily.  She continued, bending to the ear of the Cardinal: 

“I will tell you; listen!  Urbain Grandier, my lover Urbain, told me this night that it was Richelieu who had been the cause of his death.  I took a knife from an inn, and I come here to kill him; tell me where he is.”

The Cardinal, surprised and terrified, recoiled with horror.  He dared not call his guards, fearing the cries of this woman and her accusations; nevertheless, a transport of this madness might be fatal to him.

“This frightful history will pursue me everywhere!” cried he, looking fixedly at her, and thinking within himself of the course he should take.

They remained in silence, face to face, in the same attitude, like two wrestlers who contemplate before attacking each other, or like the pointer and his victim petrified by the power of a look.

In the mean time, Laubardemont and Joseph had gone forth together; and ere separating they talked for a moment before the tent of the Cardinal, because they were eager mutually to deceive each other.  Their hatred had acquired new force by their recent quarrel; and each had resolved to ruin his rival in the mind of his master.  The judge then began the dialogue, which each of them had prepared, taking the arm of the other as by one and the same movement.

“Ah, reverend father! how you have afflicted me by seeming to take in ill part the trifling pleasantries which I said to you just now.”

“Heavens, no! my dear Monsieur, I am far from that.  Charity, where would be charity?  I have sometimes a holy warmth in conversation, for the good of the State and of Monseigneur, to whom I am entirely devoted.”

“Ah, who knows it better than I, reverend father?  But render me justice; you also know how completely I am attached to his Eminence the Cardinal, to whom I owe all.  Alas!  I have employed too much zeal in serving him, since he reproaches me with it.”

“Reassure yourself,” said Joseph; “he bears no ill-will toward you.  I know him well; he can appreciate one’s actions in favor of one’s family.  He, too, is a very good relative.”

“Yes, there it is,” answered Laubardemont; “consider my condition.  My niece would have been totally ruined at her convent had Urbain triumphed; you feel that as well as I do, particularly as she did not quite comprehend us, and acted the child when she was compelled to appear.”

“Is it possible?  In full audience!  What you tell me indeed makes me feel for you.  How painful it must have been!”