"Pardieu, 't is no matter for laughter, and albeit I laughed with more zest than courtesy, I give you my word that my admiration for you vastly exceeds my amusement.

M.de Luynes," he added, rising and holding out his hand to me, "there are liars in Paris who give you an evil name--men who laughed at me when they heard that I had given you leave to go on parole to St.Sulpice des Reaux that night, trusting to your word of honour that you would return if you lived.

His Eminence dubbed me a fool and went near to dismissing me from his service, and yet I have now the proof that my confidence was not misplaced, since even though you were believed to be dead, you did not hesitate to bring me your sword." "Monsieur, spare me!" I exclaimed, for in truth his compliments waxed as irksome as had been his whilom merriment.
He continued, however, his laudatory address, and when it was at last ended, and he paused exhausted alike in breath and brain, it was to take up my sword and return it to me with my parole, pronouncing me a free man, and advising me to let men continue to think me dead, and to withdraw from France.

He cut short my half-protesting thanks, and calling the hostess bade her set another cover, whilst me he invited to share his supper.

And as we ate he again urged upon me the advice that I should go abroad.
"For by Heaven," he added, "Mazarin has been as a raging beast since the news was brought him yesterday of his nephew's marriage." "How ?" I cried.