“In that heart of nineteen,” said he, “love, were there love, would reign alone and above all to-day. It is not she!”
The Queen made an almost imperceptible movement of the head to Madame de Guemenee. After the two friends had spoken a moment with each person present, and at this sign, all the ladies, except Marie de Mantua, making profound courtesies, quitted the apartment without speaking, as if by previous arrangement. The Queen, then herself turning her chair, said to Monsieur:
“My brother, I beg you will come and sit down by me. We will consult upon what I have already told you. The Princesse Marie will not be in the way. I begged her to remain. We have no interruption to fear.”
The Queen seemed more at ease in her manner and language; and no longer preserving her severe and ceremonious immobility, she signed to the other persons present to approach her.
Gaston d’Orleans, somewhat alarmed at this solemn opening, came carelessly, sat down on her right hand, and said with a half-smile and a negligent air, playing with his ruff and the chain of the Saint Esprit which hung from his neck:
“I think, Madame, that we shall fatigue the ears of so young a personage by a long conference. She would rather hear us speak of dances, and of marriage, of an elector, or of the King of Poland, for example.”
Marie assumed a disdainful air; Cinq-Mars frowned.
“Pardon me,” replied the Queen, looking at her; “I assure you the politics of the present time interest her much. Do not seek to escape us, my brother,” added she, smiling. “I have you to-day! It is the least we can do to listen to Monsieur de Bouillon.”
The latter approached, holding by the hand the young officer of whom we have spoken.
“I must first,” said he, “present to your Majesty the Baron de Beauvau, who has just arrived from Spain.”
“From Spain?” said the Queen, with emotion. “There is courage in that; you have seen my family?”
“He will speak to you of them, and of the Count-Duke of Olivares. As to courage, it is not the first time he has shown it. He commanded the cuirassiers of the Comte de Soissons.”
“How? so young, sir! You must be fond of political wars.”
“On the contrary, your Majesty will pardon me,” replied he, “for I served with the princes of the peace.”
Anne of Austria smiled at this jeu-de-mot. The Duc de Bouillon, seizing the moment to bring forward the grand question he had in view, quitted Cinq-Mars, to whom he had just given his hand with an air of the most zealous friendship, and approaching the Queen with him, “It is miraculous, Madame,” said he, “that this period still contains in its bosom some noble characters, such as these;” and he pointed to the master of the horse, to young Beauvau, and to De Thou. “It is only in them that we can place our hope for the future. Such men are indeed very rare now, for the great leveller has swung a long scythe over France.”