little chapel, enclosing its shrine with the effigies of a tutelary saint, and inviting the worship of the stranger. There was one large picture which attracted the attention of St. Maur, and to gaze on which he besought the attendant to allow hima moment's leisure ere he was conducted to the closet of his Eminence. Perhaps its interest in the eyes of the youth was owing to the freshness of its colouring, and the modern costume and equipments of the figures. It was a battle-piece. Two armies, one French, as St. Maur recognized by the scarf and bandolier of the soldiers, were drawn up in array; the signal of onset had been given—matchlocks were lowered, and the French lines were about to pour in a fire on their enemies, when one from the opponent's ranks, mounted on a black steed, and habited in an ecclesiastical robe, bare-headed, and with long locks streaming in the air, is seen galloping towards the French, by his motions deprecating the onslaught; the general, respecting the motive, is issuing his command to restrain the fire. Lost in the contemplation of the picture, one moment endeavouring to assign a name to the French general, too old for the heroic Condé, the next instant his eyes riveted on the ecclesiastic, whose face was familiar, yet where seen, or to whom belonging, he could not remember he was unconscious of being himself the object of close scrutiny. Suddenly turning to solicit an explanation of the subject of the picture from the domestic, he encountered the figure of the Cardinal, reclining with folded arms against a marble plinth or column, very quietly awaiting the leisure of her majesty's usher.' The colour flew to his cheeks at being thus caught in the very act of loitering whilst under the commands of his Eminence. He was stammering an apology, when Mazarin good-humouredly interrupted him, by asking if he recognized any face among the groups. The youth replied that two minutes since he was dubious of the features of the principal personage in the picture, but now all doubts were solved. "It is not a very close likeness," said the Cardinal, a faint, cold smile crossing his features, "at least since I have been elected to her majesty's council. A priest looks not well on horseback, and harnessed with the trappings of war; yet, young man, I do not repent me of the action there pourtrayed-it will read more benignly in my epitaph than a record of all my labours in this unruly city! Do you know the history?" Now that memory was refreshed, St. Maur was at no loss to un derstand the details of the painting, but had enough tact to acknowledge that this information was very scanty. To many in the Cardinal's situation, it would have been no easy task to be the narrator of his own exploits to an inferior, and almost dependant; to steer clear, on the one side, of affected humility, and, on the other, to have the grace to avoid drawing too largely on the forestalled praises of a retainer. But Mazarin, except in relation to the highest aims, was without vanity. To live and die chief minister of France, even if he reached no higher station; to marry his nieces to the best blood of the kingdom; to amass kingly wealth, and surround himself with the rarest objects of art and luxury, were doubtless themes to which vanity, in secret and silence, clung with sweetness and delight; but on lesser matters he was calm, passionless, and seemingly indifferent. Plainly, and as an act which he deemed worthy of praise and remembrance, he related how, in earlier youth, being then attached to the house of Savoy, he had-after using all other means of preserving peace between that state and France--rushed between the contending parties, on the very stroke of battle-by his prayers gaining a momentary cessation of strife, which he improved into a more lasting accommodation of differences. 66 I do not use this language without purpose, Monsieur St. Maur," continued the Cardinal; "what has been done once may be performed again. I gained a name with the Christian princes of Europe in preserving the peace of rival states; let me now, with the same holy purpose, compose, if possible, my differences with the nobles and blood-royal of France, unhappily arrayed against me! But who will be the herald Mercury to step in between my unworthy office and the heroic Condé ?" The Cardinal paused. St. Maur did not immediately reply; but seeing from the manner of the prelate that he should be obliged to give utterance to his thoughts, he said, there were many, very many, who would be eager for the honour of such an embassy. "All corrupt-all unfitted by their intrigues for such a task," rejoined Mazarin. "No, no! St. Maur-you alone would Condé listen to. There is a fair road for fame and honour-glory to be won in the eyes of beauty-love is but a poor dissembler, Monsieur St. Maurbut go-go to the prince. We know he wishes to see the Queen respecting your friend Gourville. Tell him I am commanded not to resign, or I would gladly lay down my office; say her majesty has convened a council, to which she commands the attendance of all the princes of the blood, and that we of the cabinet, myself and colleagues, approve the Queen's act for the peace it may bring." The youth was dazzled with the vision, to which the Cardinal added an interest by the allusion to what he, falling into the usual mistake of lovers, deemed a secret, hidden from all eyes save her to whom the homage was paid. But what if some treachery were intended? "Will monseigneur pardon a question I would ask?" said the young man. Speak on," replied the Cardinal. "When you undertook to propose peace to France, had you not surety from Savoy that the conditions you agreed on would be strictly adhered to in all honour and sincerity?" asked St. Maur. "Most surely," replied his Eminence, "for mine own honour and satisfaction; and do you be as careful of your honour as her majesty and her humble adviser are of their pledge, that, as you deal honourably, so you will be dealt honourably by. We will not take the prince unawares; let to-morrow and the next day intervene ere her majesty's council meet-Thursday next, and the hour eleven." The Cardinal made a slight obeisance, turned on his heel, and withdrew, leaving the youth to wander amongst the storied riches of genius which adorned the palace. But he was in no mood to enjoy their beauty. Neither the severe grace and beaming intelligences of Raphael, nor the voluptuous forms of Rubens, had power to arrest his steps. He was now called upon to exercise a calm judgment under the most trying circumstances. There was no door of escape by which he might seek safety in a medium or neutral course. The duties of his station required obedience to the Queen and her minister's commands; he had been avowedly chosen for the task, as one of whom the prince, of all within the pale of the court, would have least distrust in matters of personal safety. Could he, therefore, with a knowledge of the Cardinal's general duplicity, so far put faith in his sincerity on the present occasion as to be the means by which his old patron and feudal chief might be brought into dire peril? It were everlasting disgrace and self-doomed infamy if such should prove the result. Neither could he decline the office, except by openly assuring the Queen, as well as the minister, that their united pledge to him was valueless. What course, therefore, could he pursue? To bring Condé into peril was an act which he would suffer death rather than perpetrate; his judgment was therefore tasked to ascertain whether he could trust in the pledge of her majesty, and the honesty of Mazarin's intentions. If he could not, why, then, farewell to the Palais Royal, to the society of Isoline, and the service of her majesty. Men are often influenced by latent motives of which they are themselves unconscious. Could St. Maur have looked deeper into his own bosom, he would have discovered that the partiality imbibed for the precincts of the court caused him to attach too much value to the Queen's promise. Her pledged word that he should not be employed in aught that affected the honour and safety of his former patron, would certainly exonerate him in the eyes of both friends and foes, in the event of treasonable practices; but, with the knowledge of her subjection, in most important matters, to the rule of the unscrupulous and designing Mazarin, was he justified in perilling so much on her good faith? He did decide, however, in favour of carrying the olive branch to the prince. Nor was the train of thought suggested by the artful prelate absent from his mind. He could not avoid dwelling on the personal importance which would accrue if he participated in bringing about an accommodation. He would at once be elevated into the sphere so much coveted by the ambitious spirits of the agepossessing the reputation of acting in, and giving a turn to the course of political events. These reflections carried him swiftly to the portal of the Hôtel de Condé, where, loitering on the steps in the inner courtyard, stood his friend the master of the horse. Gourville's sagacity suggested quickly that no slight matter would bring the youth to encounter voluntarily the scorching glance of Condé ; despite, therefore, of his own desire of exercising a vindictive spirit, and subjecting St. Maur to a most humiliating lecture for changing his party, and, above all, deserting such a powerful protector as the Gascon, he yet suppressed all outward manifestations of anger, in expectation of gleaning quietly the purport of the young man's visit, which possibly might have some relation to himself or his actions, which of late had been the subject of much unpleasant comment. In this manœuvre he was foiled, for, with all his art, he could draw nothing farther than that the usher of the council had something of importance to communicate to the prince. If possible, this made him more anxious to be master of its purport; but a very little practice at court, makes a man an adept in parrying and turning aside unwelcome inquiries. Gourville, discomfited, grew furious, reproached the young man with acting the part of a spy in thus venturing to obtrude on the privacy of the prince, and hinted very plainly that his reception would be such as to make him regret his visit to the hôtel. St. Maur, though disturbed by these threats, and, from other causes, feeling an extreme dislike to the interview, was not the man to be deterred from a course after having fully made up his mind to its pursuit. Saluting the master of the horse with a formal reverence, which the other affected not to notice, he passed onwards to the interior of the palace. CHAPTER VIII. Ambassador of peace, if peace you choose, ST. MAUR learned from one of the domestics that his Royal Highness was enjoying a promenade in the gardens. He accordingly went in search of the Prince, fearing the meeting, yet with a resolution to oppose manfully his overbearing spirit. The day was fine, the air calm and serene; the sun shone brightly, but without excessive heat, on one of the last days of spring; the eye, dazzled with the glitter of the gushing fountains, sought relief in the deepening verdure of the foliage. It was a scene of peace hardly to be realized to the imagination distracted with the turmoil of a rebellious city. The feelings of St. Maur were the same often experienced by the visitant of the luxuriant abodes of princes and powerful nobles-wondering that, with such a paradise to dwell in, the owner's mind should seek pleasure in the wearying struggles of political strife. A long avenue, terminated by a parterre, on which were grouped orange shrubs and other exotics, and over which rose to a considerable height the sparkling jet of a fountain, disclosed to view a happy coterie of idlers, among whom Condé was conspicuous. As St. Maur approached, he recognised the leaders of the faction |