During this debate, another was going forward between Laubardemont and Joseph.  The latter, fearing that torments would induce him to disclose the secret of his recent proposition, advised that they should not be resorted to; the other, not thinking his triumph complete by death alone, absolutely insisted on their being applied.  The judges surrounded and listened to these secret agents of the Prime-Minister; however, many circumstances having caused them to suspect that the influence of the Capuchin was more powerful than that of the judge, they took part with him, and decided for mercy, when he finished by these words uttered in a low voice: 

“I know their secrets.  There is no necessity to force them from their lips, because they are useless, and relate to too high circumstances.  Monsieur le Grand has no one to denounce but the King, and the other the Queen.  It is better that we should remain ignorant.  Besides, they will not confess.  I know them; they will be silent—­the one from pride, the other through piety.  Let them alone.  The torture will wound them; they will be disfigured and unable to walk.  That will spoil the whole ceremony; they must be kept to appear.”

This last observation prevailed.  The judges retired to deliberate with the chancellor.  While departing, Joseph whispered to Laubardemont: 

“I have provided you with enough pleasure here; you will still have that of deliberating, and then you shall go and examine three men who are confined in the northern tower.”

These were the three judges who had condemned Urbain Grandier.

As he spoke, he laughed heartily, and was the last to leave the room, pushing the astonished master of requests before him.

The sombre tribunal had scarcely disappeared when Grandchamp, relieved from his two guards, hastened toward his master, and, seizing his hand, said: 

“In the name of Heaven, come to the terrace, Monseigneur!  I have something to show you; in the name of your mother, come!”

But at that moment the chamber door was opened, and the old Abbe Quillet appeared.

“My children! my dear children!” exclaimed the old man, weeping bitterly.  “Alas! why was I only permitted to enter to-day?  Dear Henri, your mother, your brother, your sister, are concealed here.”

“Be quiet, Monsieur l’Abbe!” said Grandchamp; “do come to the terrace, Monseigneur.”

But the old priest still detained and embraced his pupil.

“We hope,” said he; “we hope for mercy.”

“I shall refuse it,” said Cinq-Mars.

“We hope for nothing but the mercy of God,” added De Thou.

“Silence!” said Grandchamp, “the judges are returning.”

And the door opened again to admit the dismal procession, from which Joseph and Laubardemont were missing.

“Gentlemen,” exclaimed the good Abbe, addressing the commissioners, “I am happy to tell you that I have just arrived from Paris, and that no one doubts but that all the conspirators will be pardoned.  I have had an interview at her Majesty’s apartments with Monsieur himself; and as to the Duc de Bouillon, his examination is not unfav—­”