In a splendid chamber of the Palais Royal, formerly styledthe Palais Cardinal, a man was sitting in deep reverie, hishead supported on his hands, leaning over a gilt and inlaidtable which was covered with letters and papers. Behind thisfigure glowed a vast fireplace alive with leaping flames;great logs of oak blazed and crackled on the polished brassandirons whose flicker shone upon the superb habiliments ofthe lonely tenant of the room, which was illumined grandlyby twin candelabra rich with wax-lights.

Any one who happened at that moment to contemplate that redsimar - the gorgeous robe of office - and the rich lace,or who gazed on that pale brow, bent in anxious meditation,might, in the solitude of that apartment, combined with thesilence of the ante-chambers and the measured paces of theguards upon the landing-place, have fancied that the shadeof Cardinal Richelieu lingered still in his accustomedhaunt.

It was, alas! the ghost of former greatness. Franceenfeebled, the authority of her sovereign contemned, hernobles returning to their former turbulence and insolence,her enemies within her frontiers - all proved the greatRichelieu no longer in existence.

In truth, that the red simar which occupied the wonted placewas his no longer, was still more strikingly obvious fromthe isolation which seemed, as we have observed, moreappropriate to a phantom than a living creature - from thecorridors deserted by courtiers, and courts crowded withguards - from that spirit of bitter ridicule, which,arising from the streets below, penetrated through the verycasements of the room, which resounded with the murmurs of awhole city leagued against the minister; as well as from thedistant and incessant sounds of guns firing - let off,happily, without other end or aim, except to show to theguards, the Swiss troops and the military who surrounded thePalais Royal, that the people were possessed of arms.

The shade of Richelieu was Mazarin. Now Mazarin was aloneand defenceless, as he well knew.

"Foreigner!" he ejaculated, "Italian! that is their mean yetmighty byword of reproach - the watchword with which theyassassinated, hanged, and made away with Concini; and if Igave them their way they would assassinate, hang, and makeaway with me in the same manner, although they have nothingto complain of except a tax or two now and then. Idiots!ignorant of their real enemies, they do not perceive that itis not the Italian who speaks French badly, but those whocan say fine things to them in the purest Parisian accent,who are their real foes.

"Yes, yes," Mazarin continued, whilst his wonted smile, fullof subtlety, lent a strange expression to his pale lips;"yes, these noises prove to me, indeed, that the destiny offavorites is precarious; but ye shall know I am no ordinaryfavorite. No! The Earl of Essex, 'tis true, wore a splendidring, set with diamonds, given him by his royal mistress,whilst I - I have nothing but a simple circlet of gold,with a cipher on it and a date; but that ring has beenblessed in the chapel of the Palais Royal,* so they willnever ruin me, as they long to do, and whilst they shout,`Down with Mazarin!' I, unknown, and unperceived by them,incite them to cry out, `Long live the Duke de Beaufort' oneday; another, `Long live the Prince de Conde;' and again,`Long live the parliament!'" And at this word the smile onthe cardinal's lips assumed an expression of hatred, ofwhich his mild countenance seemed incapable. "Theparliament! We shall soon see how to dispose," he continued,"of the parliament! Both Orleans and Montargis are ours. Itwill be a work of time, but those who have begun by cryingout: Down with Mazarin! will finish by shouting out, Downwith all the people I have mentioned, each in his turn.

It is said that Mazarin, who, though a cardinal, had nottaken such vows as to prevent it, was secretly married toAnne of Austria. - La Porte's Memoirs.

"Richelieu, whom they hated during his lifetime and whomthey now praise after his death, was even less popular thanI am. Often he was driven away, oftener still had he a dreadof being sent away. The queen will never banish me, and evenwere I obliged to yield to the populace she would yield withme; if I fly, she will fly; and then we shall see how therebels will get on without either king or queen.

"Oh, were I not a foreigner! were I but a Frenchman! were Ibut of gentle birth!"

The position of the cardinal was indeed critical, and recentevents had added to his difficulties. Discontent had longpervaded the lower ranks of society in France. Crushed andimpoverished by taxation - imposed by Mazarin, whoseavarice impelled him to grind them down to the very dust - the people, as the Advocate-General Talon described it, hadnothing left to them except their souls; and as those couldnot be sold by auction, they began to murmur. Patience hadin vain been recommended to them by reports of brilliantvictories gained by France; laurels, however, were not meatand drink, and the people had for some time been in a stateof discontent.

Had this been all, it might not, perhaps, have greatlysignified; for when the lower classes alone complained, thecourt of France, separated as it was from the poor by theintervening classes of the gentry and the bourgeoisie,seldom listened to their voice; but unluckily, Mazarin hadhad the imprudence to attack the magistrates and had sold noless than twelve appointments in the Court of Requests, at ahigh price; and as the officers of that court paid verydearly for their places, and as the addition of twelve newcolleagues would necessarily lower the value of each place,the old functionaries formed a union amongst themselves,and, enraged, swore on the Bible not to allow of thisaddition to their number, but to resist all the persecutionswhich might ensue; and should any one of them chance toforfeit his post by this resistance, to combine to indemnifyhim for his loss.

Now the following occurrences had taken place between thetwo contending parties

On the seventh of January between seven and eight hundredtradesmen had assembled in Paris to discuss a new tax whichwas to be levied on house property. They deputed ten oftheir number to wait upon the Duke of Orleans, who,according to his custom, affected popularity. The dukereceived them and they informed him that they were resolvednot to pay this tax, even if they were obliged to defendthemselves against its collectors by force of arms. Theywere listened to with great politeness by the duke, who heldout hopes of easier measures, promised to speak in theirbehalf to the queen, and dismissed them with the ordinaryexpression of royalty, "We will see what we can do."

Two days afterward these same magistrates appeared beforethe cardinal and their spokesman addressed Mazarin with somuch fearlessness and determination that the minister wasastounded and sent the deputation away with the same answeras it had received from the Duke of Orleans - that he wouldsee what could be done; and in accordance with thatintention a council of state was assembled and thesuperintendent of finance was summoned.

This man, named Emery, was the object of populardetestation, in the first place because he wassuperintendent of finance, and every superintendent offinance deserved to be hated; in the second place, becausehe rather deserved the odium which he had incurred.

He was the son of a banker at Lyons named Particelli, who,after becoming a bankrupt, chose to change his name toEmery; and Cardinal Richelieu having discovered in him greatfinancial aptitude, had introduced him with a strongrecommendation to Louis XIII. under his assumed name, inorder that he might be appointed to the post he subsequentlyheld.

"You surprise me!" exclaimed the monarch. "I am rejoiced tohear you speak of Monsieur d'Emery as calculated for a postwhich requires a man of probity. I was really afraid thatyou were going to force that villain Particelli upon me."

"Sire," replied Richelieu, "rest assured that Particelli,the man to whom your majesty refers, has been hanged."

"Ah; so much the better!" exclaimed the king. "It is not fornothing that I am styled Louis the Just." and he signedEmery's appointment.

This was the same Emery who became eventually superintendentof finance.

He was sent for by the ministers and he came before thempale and trembling, declaring that his son had very nearlybeen assassinated the day before, near the palace. The mobhad insulted him on account of the ostentatious luxury ofhis wife, whose house was hung with red velvet edged withgold fringe. This lady was the daughter of Nicholas deCamus, who arrived in Paris with twenty francs in hispocket, became secretary of state, and accumulated wealthenough to divide nine millions of francs among his childrenand to keep an income of forty thousand for himself.

The fact was that Emery's son had run a great chance ofbeing suffocated, one of the rioters having proposed tosqueeze him until he gave up all the gold he had swallowed.Nothing, therefore, was settled that day, as Emery's headwas not steady enough for business after such an occurrence.

On the next day Mathieu Mole, the chief president, whosecourage at this crisis, says the Cardinal de Retz, was equalto that of the Duc de Beaufort and the Prince de Conde - inother words, of the two men who were considered the bravestin France - had been attacked in his turn. The peoplethreatened to hold him responsible for the evils that hungover them. But the chief president had replied with hishabitual coolness, without betraying either disturbance orsurprise, that should the agitators refuse obedience to theking's wishes he would have gallows erected in the publicsquares and proceed at once to hang the most active amongthem. To which the others had responded that they would beglad to see the gallows erected; they would serve for thehanging of those detestable judges who purchased favor atcourt at the price of the people's misery.

Nor was this all. On the eleventh the queen in going to massat Notre Dame, as she always did on Saturdays, was followedby more than two hundred women demanding justice. These poorcreatures had no bad intentions. They wished only to beallowed to fall on their knees before their sovereign, andthat they might move her to compassion; but they wereprevented by the royal guard and the queen proceeded on herway, haughtily disdainful of their entreaties.

At length parliament was convoked; the authority of the kingwas to be maintained.

One day - it was the morning of the day my story begins - the king, Louis XIV., then ten years of age, went in state,under pretext of returning thanks for his recovery from thesmall-pox, to Notre Dame. He took the opportunity of callingout his guard, the Swiss troops and the musketeers, and hehad planted them round the Palais Royal, on the quays, andon the Pont Neuf. After mass the young monarch drove to theParliament House, where, upon the throne, he hastilyconfirmed not only such edicts as he had already passed, butissued new ones, each one, according to Cardinal de Retz,more ruinous than the others - a proceeding which drewforth a strong remonstrance from the chief president, Mole- whilst President Blancmesnil and Councillor Brousselraised their voices in indignation against fresh taxes.

The king returned amidst the silence of a vast multitude tothe Palais Royal. All minds were uneasy, most wereforeboding, many of the people used threatening language.

At first, indeed, they were doubtful whether the king'svisit to the parliament had been in order to lighten orincrease their burdens; but scarcely was it known that thetaxes were to be still further increased, when cries of"Down with Mazarin!" "Long live Broussel!" "Long liveBlancmesnil!" resounded through the city. For the people hadlearned that Broussel and Blancmesnil had made speeches intheir behalf, and, although the eloquence of these deputieshad been without avail, it had none the less won for themthe people's good-will. All attempts to disperse the groupscollected in the streets, or silence their exclamations,were in vain. Orders had just been given to the royal guardsand the Swiss guards, not only to stand firm, but to sendout patrols to the streets of Saint Denis and Saint Martin,where the people thronged and where they were the mostvociferous, when the mayor of Paris was announced at thePalais Royal.

He was shown in directly; he came to say that if theseoffensive precautions were not discontinued, in two hoursParis would be under arms.

Deliberations were being held when a lieutenant in theguards, named Comminges, made his appearance, with hisclothes all torn, his face streaming with blood. The queenon seeing him uttered a cry of surprise and asked him whatwas going on.

As the mayor had foreseen, the sight of the guards hadexasperated the mob. The tocsin was sounded. Comminges hadarrested one of the ringleaders and had ordered him to behanged near the cross of Du Trahoir; but in attempting toexecute this command the soldiery were attacked in themarket-place with stones and halberds; the delinquent hadescaped to the Rue des Lombards and rushed into a house.They broke open the doors and searched the dwelling, but invain. Comminges, wounded by a stone which had struck him onthe forehead, had left a picket in the street and returnedto the Palais Royal, followed by a menacing crowd, to tellhis story.

This account confirmed that of the mayor. The authoritieswere not in a condition to cope with serious revolt. Mazarinendeavored to circulate among the people a report thattroops had only been stationed on the quays and on the PontNeuf, on account of the ceremonial of the day, and that theywould soon withdraw. In fact, about four o'clock they wereall concentrated about the Palais Royal, the courts andground floors of which were filled with musketeers and Swissguards, and there awaited the outcome of all thisdisturbance.

Such was the state of affairs at the very moment weintroduced our readers to the study of Cardinal Mazarin - once that of Cardinal Richelieu. We have seen in what stateof mind he listened to the murmurs from below, which evenreached him in his seclusion, and to the guns, the firing ofwhich resounded through that room. All at once he raised hishead; his brow slightly contracted like that of a man whohas formed a resolution; he fixed his eyes upon an enormousclock that was about to strike ten, and taking up a whistleof silver gilt that stood upon the table near him, heshrilled it twice.

A door hidden in the tapestry opened noiselessly and a manin black silently advanced and stood behind the chair onwhich Mazarin sat.

"Bernouin," said the cardinal, not turning round, for havingwhistled, he knew that it was his valet-de-chambre who wasbehind him; "what musketeers are now within the palace?"

"The Black Musketeers, my lord."

"What company?"

"Treville's company."

"Is there any officer belonging to this company in theante-chamber?"

"Lieutenant d'Artagnan."

"A man on whom we can depend, I hope."

"Yes, my lord."

"Give me a uniform of one of these musketeers and help me toput it on."

The valet went out as silently as he had entered andappeared in a few minutes bringing the dress demanded.

The cardinal, in deep thought and in silence, began to takeoff the robes of state he had assumed in order to be presentat the sitting of parliament, and to attire himself in themilitary coat, which he wore with a certain degree of easygrace, owing to his former campaigns in Italy. When he wascompletely dressed he said:

"Send hither Monsieur d'Artagnan."

The valet went out of the room, this time by the centredoor, but still as silently as before; one might havefancied him an apparition.

When he was left alone the cardinal looked at himself in theglass with a feeling of self-satisfaction. Still young - for he was scarcely forty-six years of age - he possessedgreat elegance of form and was above the middle height; hiscomplexion was brilliant and beautiful; his glance full ofexpression; his nose, though large, was well proportioned;his forehead broad and majestic; his hair, of a chestnutcolor, was curled slightly; his beard, which was darker thanhis hair, was turned carefully with a curling iron, apractice that greatly improved it. After a short time thecardinal arranged his shoulder belt, then looked with greatcomplacency at his hands, which were most elegant and ofwhich he took the greatest care; and throwing on one sidethe large kid gloves tried on at first, as belonging to theuniform, he put on others of silk only. At this instant thedoor opened.

"Monsieur d'Artagnan," said the valet-de-chambre.

An officer, as he spoke, entered the apartment. He was a manbetween thirty-nine and forty years of age, of medium heightbut a very well proportioned figure; with an intellectualand animated physiognomy; his beard black, and his hairturning gray, as often happens when people have found lifeeither too gay or too sad, more especially when they happento be of swart complexion.

D'Artagnan advanced a few steps into the apartment.

How perfectly he remembered his former entrance into thatvery room! Seeing, however, no one there except a musketeerof his own troop, he fixed his eyes upon the supposedsoldier, in whose dress, nevertheless, he recognized at thefirst glance the cardinal.

The lieutenant remained standing in a dignified butrespectful posture, such as became a man of good birth, whohad in the course of his life been frequently in the societyof the highest nobles.

The cardinal looked at him with a cunning rather thanserious glance, yet he examined his countenance withattention and after a momentary silence said:

"You are Monsieur d'Artagnan?"

"I am that individual," replied the officer.

Mazarin gazed once more at a countenance full ofintelligence, the play of which had been, nevertheless,subdued by age and experience; and D'Artagnan received thepenetrating glance like one who had formerly sustained manya searching look, very different, indeed, from those whichwere inquiringly directed on him at that instant.

"Sir," resumed the cardinal, "you are to come with me, orrather, I am to go with you."

"I am at your command, my lord," returned D'Artagnan.

"I wish to visit in person the outposts which surround thePalais Royal; do you suppose that there is any danger in sodoing?"

"Danger, my lord!" exclaimed D'Artagnan with a look ofastonishment, "what danger?"

"I am told that there is a general insurrection."

"The uniform of the king's musketeers carries a certainrespect with it, and even if that were not the case I wouldengage with four of my men to put to flight a hundred ofthese clowns."

"Did you witness the injury sustained by Comminges?"

"Monsieur de Comminges is in the guards and not in themusketeers - - "

"Which means, I suppose, that the musketeers are bettersoldiers than the guards." The cardinal smiled as he spoke.

"Every one likes his own uniform best, my lord."

"Myself excepted," and again Mazarin smiled; "for youperceive that I have left off mine and put on yours."

"Lord bless us! this is modesty indeed!" cried D'Artagnan."Had I such a uniform as your eminence possesses, I protestI should be mightily content, and I would take an oath neverto wear any other costume - - "

"Yes, but for to-night's adventure I don't suppose my dresswould have been a very safe one. Give me my felt hat,Bernouin."

The valet instantly brought to his master a regimental hatwith a wide brim. The cardinal put it on in military style.

"Your horses are ready saddled in their stables, are theynot?" he said, turning to D'Artagnan.

"Yes, my lord."

"Well, let us set out."

"How many men does your eminence wish to escort you?"

"You say that with four men you will undertake to disperse ahundred low fellows; as it may happen that we shall have toencounter two hundred, take eight - - "

"As many as my lord wishes."

"I will follow you. This way - light us downstairs Bernouin.

The valet held a wax-light; the cardinal took a key from hisbureau and opening the door of a secret stair descended intothe court of the Palais Royal.