“That’s it!” cried the king; “to him, no doubt. Cardinal, I must have the queen’s papers.”

“But how to take them, sire? It seems to me that it is neither your Majesty nor myself who can charge himself with such a mission.”

“How did they act with regard to the Marechale d’Ancre?” cried the king, in the highest state of choler; “first her closets were thoroughly searched, and then she herself.”

“The Marechale d’Ancre was no more than the Marechale d’Ancre. A Florentine adventurer, sire, and that was all; while the august spouse of your Majesty is Anne of Austria, Queen of France — that is to say, one of the greatest princesses in the world.”