“Did you go into these houses with her?”
“Never, monseigneur; I waited at the door.”
“And what excuse did she make for thus going in alone?”
“She gave me none. She told me to wait, and I waited.”
“Should you know those doors again?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know the numbers?”
“Yes.”
“What are they?”
“No. 25 in the Rue de Vaugirard; 75 in the Rue de la Harpe.”
“Very well,” said the cardinal.
At these words he took up a silver bell and rang it. The officer entered.
“Go,” said he in a subdued voice, “and find Rochefort. Tell him to come to me immediately, if he has returned.”
“The Count is here,” said the officer, “and wishes to speak instantly with your Eminence.”
“Let him come in, then—let him come in, then!” said the cardinal eagerly.
The officer rushed out of the apartment with that alacrity which all the cardinal’s servants displayed in obeying him.
“To your Eminence!” murmured Bonacieux, rolling his eyes round in astonishment.
Five seconds had not elapsed after the disappearance of the officer when the door opened and a new personage entered.
“It is he!” cried Bonacieux.
“He! What he?” asked the cardinal.
“The man who took away my wife!”
The cardinal rang a second time. The officer reappeared.
“Place this man in the care of his two guards, and let him wait till I send for him.”
The officer took Bonacieux by the arm, and led him into the antechamber, where he found his two guards.
The newly-introduced personage followed Bonacieux impatiently with his eyes till he was gone out, and the moment the door closed he advanced eagerly toward the cardinal and said,
“They have seen each other.”
“Who?” asked his Eminence.
“He and she.”
“The queen and the duke?” cried Richelieu.
“Yes.”
“How did it take place?”
“At half-past twelve the queen was with her women—”
“Where?”
“In her bedchamber—”
“Go on.”
“When some one came and brought her a handkerchief from her dame de lingerie.”
“And then?”
“The queen immediately exhibited strong emotion, and, in spite of the rouge which covered her face, grew pale.”
“Go on, go on!”
“She, however, rose, and with a trembling voice, ‘Ladies,’ she said, ‘wait for me ten minutes; I shall soon return.’ She then opened the door of her alcove and went out.”
“Did none of her women accompany her?”
“Only Do?a Estefana.”
“And she afterwards returned?”
“Yes; but only to take a little rosewood casket, with her monogram upon it, and to go out again immediately.”
“And when she finally returned, did she bring that casket with her?”
“No.”
“Does Madame de Lannoy know what was in that casket?”
“Yes; the diamond studs which his Majesty gave the queen.”
“And she came back without this casket?”
“Yes.”
“Madame de Lannoy, then, is of the opinion that she gave them to Buckingham?”
“She is sure of it.”
“Do you know where the Duchesse de Chevreuse and the Duke of Buckingham were concealed?”
“No, monseigneur. My people could tell me nothing positive in regard to that.”
“But I know.”
“You, monseigneur?”
“Yes, or at least I suspect. They were, one in the Rue de Vaugirard, No. 25, the other in the Rue de la Harpe, No. 75.”
“Does your Eminence wish them both to be arrested?”
“It is too late; they will be gone.”
“But still we can make sure of it.”
“Take ten men of my guards, and search both houses thoroughly.”
“Instantly, monseigneur.”
The cardinal, upon being left alone, reflected for an instant, and then rang the bell a third time.
The same officer appeared.
“Bring the prisoner in again,” said the cardinal.
M. Bonacieux was introduced anew, and upon a sign from the cardinal the officer retired.
“You have deceived me!” said the cardinal sternly.
“I,” cried Bonacieux—“I deceive your Eminence!”
“Your wife, when going to Rue de Vaugirard and Rue de la Harpe, did not go to any linen-drapers.”
“Then where, in God’s name, did she go?”
