“I hope to have the honour of serving under you with my regiment, sir.”

“I shall be glad to have you, but I fear there is little chance of it.  I am to take the command of the Weimar troops.  The death of the duke has been a heavy blow to us, and it is thought that unless I go down there —­ I say it because I have served there and am known by the Weimar troops —­ that force will break up altogether.  From what I hear, I hardly think there is much chance of having any French regiments with me, and those now being raised are likely to be sent to fight under Enghien in Flanders.  My position is, as you know, a painful one, owing to Bouillon having gone to Italy to take the command of the Pope’s troops.  I believe that is the reason why Mazarin has withdrawn me from the command of our army in Savoy.  However, as a soldier I accept the work he has given me, not allowing family matters to interfere in any way with it, though it is my opinion that Bouillon has been very hardly treated by the breaking of the engagements that were given him when he surrendered Sedan to France.”

A week later Hector presented himself at the levee of Cardinal Mazarin.

“I was expecting to see you, baron.  I received your note saying that you had taken the command of your regiment, and would do yourself the honour of presenting yourself as soon as you had put matters in trim.  Are you satisfied with your men and your officers?”

“With both, your eminence, and trust that in two or three months’ time you will do us the honour of inspecting us.”

“And how did you find your barony?”

“I was delighted with it.  The castle is a strong one, and I am taking steps to add to its strength; and I believe when it is finished that it will be almost impregnable save by an army, and that well commanded.”

“Then you think,” the cardinal said with a smile, but with a certain air of seriousness, “that you could offer me a safe asylum if I needed one.”

“I trust that such an event may never occur, your eminence, but if it should, my castle is at your disposal, and I will guarantee that it will resist for three months, whoever might attack it.”

“One can never say,” the cardinal said mournfully.  “Oh, these nobles!  They are, as they have ever been, the curse of France.  Each man thinks only of himself and of increasing his domains.  What France may suffer matters nothing to them so that they are enriched.  Were one of them capable of ruling France I would gladly retire; but who is there?  Orleans, vain, empty headed, treacherous to his friends, a man whose word is not to be relied upon.  Conde, who thinks only of enriching himself and adding to his possessions.  Beaufort, a roistering trooper.  None of these men could maintain his position for a moment.  The whole country seethes with discontent at the heavy taxation necessitated by the war; Paris, as is always the case when there is trouble in the air, is restless and turbulent.  I have good friends, but they are insufficient to sustain me against the intrigues of my enemies.  The queen alone upholds me.  Truly, the burden is too great for one man to bear.