“By the way, monsieur,” she said, changing the subject of conversation, “it is whispered that that party of pleasure to which you took the officers of your regiment at St. Germain did not come off, at least none of the landlords of the hotels there can recall any such gathering, and it is even said that your falling in with the carriage of the Duke of Orleans was not altogether an accident.  I only mention the reports; of course, it was a matter of no moment whether your party dined at St. Germain or at Sevres.  But sometimes misapprehensions of this kind lead to trouble, especially when they happen a few days before serious events.  I like you, Colonel Campbell, and that is why I have mentioned this; you understand me, I have no doubt;” and, turning to a gentleman who had at that moment approached her, she entered into a lively conversation with him, and Hector rose, and with the words, “Thank you, madam,” bowed, and moved away.

It was easy to understand her meaning.  Beaufort and the conspirators whose plan he had thwarted, and who had suffered imprisonment and exile thereby, had in some way discovered that it was to him that they owed their failure and disgrace.  At the moment his explanation and that of his officers had deceived them, but doubtless someone whose connection with the plot was unsuspected had instituted inquiries, found that the party he had spoken of had not taken place, and had at once come to the conclusion that he had in some way discovered their intentions, had really ridden out with his officers to furnish a guard to Mazarin, and had afterwards acquainted him with what he had discovered.  Doubtless, as Madame de Chevreuse had warned him, the air of Paris was at present dangerously unwholesome for him.  He had been the means of bringing disgrace and punishment upon the Duc de Vendome and the Duke of Beaufort, two of the most powerful nobles in France, and a host of their friends.

It was probable that they only recently assured themselves that it was he who had thwarted their plans; had it been otherwise he would scarcely have escaped their vengeance the last time that he was in Paris.  Now, from what Madame de Chevreuse had said, he had no doubt whatever that some plot would be made against his life.  He might thwart one such attempt, but others would follow.  He resolved to lay the matter before the cardinal and take his advice.  Accordingly he waited until he was leaving; several gentlemen of his suite accompanied him, and at the entrance to the Louvre the men of the cardinal’s guard fell in on either side.  When they reached Mazarin’s hotel Hector moved up to him.

“Can I have a few words with you, your eminence?”

“Certainly, Colonel Campbell; I never retire to bed till long past midnight.  It is something serious, I see,” he said quickly as they entered his apartment, where a number of candles were burning, and he obtained a full view of Hector’s face.  “Another plot?”