“He was borne,” says an ancient manuscript journal of this year, “along the river Rhone in a boat in which a wooden chamber had been constructed, lined with crimson fluted velvet, the flooring of which was of gold.  The same boat contained an antechamber decorated in the same manner.  The prow and stern of the boat were occupied by soldiers and guards, wearing scarlet coats embroidered with gold, silver, and silk; and many lords of note.  His Eminence occupied a bed hung with purple taffetas.  Monseigneur the Cardinal Bigni, and Messeigneurs the Bishops of Nantes and Chartres, were there, with many abbes and gentlemen in other boats.  Preceding his vessel, a boat sounded the passages, and another boat followed, filled with arquebusiers and officers to command them.  When they approached any isle, they sent soldiers to inspect it, to discover whether it was occupied by any suspicious persons; and, not meeting any, they guarded the shore until two boats which followed had passed.  They were filled with the nobility and well-armed soldiers.

“Afterward came the boat of his Eminence, to the stern of which was attached a little boat, which conveyed mm. de Thou and Cinq-Mars, guarded by an officer of the King’s guard and twelve guards from the regiment of his Eminence.  Three vessels, containing the clothes and plate of his Eminence, with several gentlemen and soldiers, followed the boats.

“Two companies of light-horsemen followed the banks of the Rhone in Dauphin, and as many on the Languedoc and Vivarais side, and a noble regiment of foot, who preceded his Eminence in the towns which he was to enter, or in which he was to sleep.  It was pleasant to listen to the trumpets, which, played in Dauphine, were answered by those in Vivarais, and repeated by the echoes of our rocks.  It seemed as if all were trying which could play best.”—­[See Notes.]

In the middle of a night of the month of September, while everything appeared to slumber in the impregnable tower which contained the prisoners, the door of their outer chamber turned noiselessly on its hinges, and a man appeared on the threshold, clad in a brown robe confined round his waist by a cord.  His feet were encased in sandals, and his hand grasped a large bunch of keys; it was Joseph.  He looked cautiously round without advancing, and contemplated in silence the apartment occupied by the master of the horse.  Thick carpets covered the floor, and large and splendid hangings concealed the walls of the prison; a bed hung with red damask was prepared, but it was unoccupied.  Seated near a high chimney in a large armchair, attired in a long gray robe, similar in form to that of a priest, his head bent down, and his eyes fixed upon a little cross of gold by the flickering light of a lamp, he was absorbed in so deep a meditation that the Capuchin had leisure to approach him closely, and confront the prisoner before he perceived him.  Suddenly, however, Cinq-Mars raised his head and exclaimed, “Wretch, what do you here?”