The sun looked at first like a small blood-red moon, enveloped in a tattered shroud, and within half an hour was concealed under so thick a cloud that Marie could scarcely distinguish the foremost horses of the carriage, while the men who passed at the distance of a few paces looked like grizzly shadows.  This icy vapor turned to a penetrating rain and at the same time a cloud of fetid odor.  The Queen made the beautiful Princess sit beside her; and they turned toward Chambord quickly and in silence.  They soon heard the horns recalling the scattered hounds; the huntsmen passed rapidly by the carriage, seeking their way through the fog, and calling to each other.  Marie saw only now and then the head of a horse, or a dark body half issuing from the gloomy vapor of the woods, and tried in vain to distinguish any words.  At length her heart beat; there was a call for M. de Cinq-Mars.

“The King asks for Monsieur le Grand,” was repeated about; “where can Monsieur le Grand Ecuyer be gone to?”

A voice, passing near, said, “He has just lost himself.”

These simple words made her shudder, for her afflicted spirit gave them the most sinister meaning.  The terrible thought pursued her to the chateau and into her apartments, wherein she hastened to shut herself.  She soon heard the noise of the entry of the King and of Monsieur, then, in the forest, some shots whose flash was unseen.  She in vain looked at the narrow windows; they seemed covered on the outside with a white cloth that shut out the light.

Meanwhile, at the extremity of the forest, toward Montfrault, there had lost themselves two cavaliers, wearied with seeking the way to the chateau in the monotonous similarity of the trees and paths; they were about to stop near a pond, when eight or nine men, springing from the thickets, rushed upon them, and before they had time to draw, hung to their legs and arms and to the bridles of their horses in such a manner as to hold them fixed.  At the same time a hoarse voice cried in the fog: 

“Are you Royalists or Cardinalists?  Cry, ‘Vive le Grand!’ or you are dead men!”

“Scoundrels,” answered the first cavalier, trying to open the holsters of his pistols, “I will have you hanged for abusing my name.”

“Dios es el Senor!” cried the same voice.

All the men immediately released their hold, and ran into the wood; a burst of savage laughter was heard, and a man approached Cinq-Mars.

“Amigo, do you not recognize me?  ’Tis but a joke of Jacques, the Spanish captain.”

Fontrailles approached, and said in a low voice to the grand ecuyer: 

“Monsieur, this is an enterprising fellow; I would advise you to employ him.  We must neglect no chance.”

“Listen to me,” said Jacques de Laubardemont, “and answer at once.  I am not a phrase-maker, like my father.  I bear in mind that you have done me some good offices; and lately again, you have been useful to me, as you always are, without knowing it, for I have somewhat repaired my fortune in your little insurrections.  If you will, I can render you an important service; I command a few brave men.”