perfect indifference on the subject, and submitted without any remonstrance to the expressed wish of her son. This resignation to his will flattered the vanity of Louis, and quieted the fears of his favourite; but it by no means deceived the subtle Richelieu, who, aware of the inherent ambition of Marie de Medicis, at once felt convinced that she was preoccupied with some important design, and consequently indisposed to waste her energies upon questions of minor moment. At short intervals she addressed the most submissive letters to the King, assuring him of her devoted attachment to his interests, and her desire to obey his wishes in all things; but these assurances produced no effect upon the mind of Louis, whose ear was perpetually poisoned by the reports which reached him through the creatures of De Luynes, who never failed to attribute to the cabals of the Queen-mother all the Court intrigues, whatever might be their origin or character. Like herself, however, he was profuse in his professions of regard and confidence in her affection for his person and zeal for his interests, at the very time when she could not stir a yard from the fortress, or even walk upon the ramparts, without being accompanied by a number of armed men, denominated by De Luynes, with melancholy facetiousness, a guard of honour. Nevertheless Marie retained the most perfect self-command; but she was fated to undergo a still more bitter trial than she had yet anticipated; for so little real respect did her son evince towards her that he entered into a negotiation for the marriage of his sister the Princesse Christine with the Prince of Piedmont without condescending to consult her wishes upon the subject; thus at once disregarding her privileges as a mother and as a Queen.[2]

Superadded to this mortification was a second little less poignant. As the great nobles whom she had helped to enrich during her period of power resumed their position at Court, she anticipated from day to day that they would espouse her cause, and advocate her recall to the capital; but with the single exception of the Duc de Rohan, not one of the Princes had made an effort in her behalf; and the generous interference of the latter had, as she was aware, excited against him the animosity of De Luynes; while, on the contrary, the favourite showed undisguised favour to all who abandoned her cause.

At the close of the year 1617 the Duc de Rohan had proceeded to Savoy, and the Duc de Bouillon to Sedan; but the Ducs de Sully and d'Epernon still remained in the capital, where the latter again displayed as much pomp and pretension as he had done under the Regency; and at the commencement of 1618 he had a serious misunderstanding with Du Vair, the Keeper of the Seals, upon a point of precedence. Irascible and haughty, he resented the fact of that magistrate taking his place on all occasions of public ceremonial immediately after the Chancellor Sillery, and consequently before the dukes and peers; and on Easter Sunday, when the Court attended mass at the Church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois in state, he seized him roughly by the arm, and compelled him to give way. The King, indignant at so ill-timed a burst of passion, hastened to interfere, and spoke sharply to the Duke, who did not condescend to justify himself, but assumed an attitude of defiance, never subsequently leaving his hôtel without the attendance of a numerous suite of gentlemen ready to defend him in case of attack; while in addition to this breach of etiquette, M. d'Epernon loudly complained of the bad faith of De Luynes, who had promised, in order to induce his return to Court, to obtain a cardinal's hat for his third son the Archbishop of Toulouse, without, however, having subsequently made a single effort to redeem his pledge. So bitterly, indeed, did he inveigh against the favourite that he began to apprehend the possibility of an arrest; yet still he lingered in the capital, as if unwilling to retreat before an enemy whom he despised.[3]

Among the individuals who had followed the Queen-mother into exile was a certain Abbé Rucellaï, a Florentine, who having failed to obtain advancement at the Court of Rome, had passed over to France in the hope of furthering his fortunes in that kingdom. His anticipations appeared for a time likely to be realized, as he was warmly welcomed on his arrival by his countryman Concini; but the assassination of the favourite having blighted all his prospects, he resolved upon revenge, and as a first step offered his services to Marie de Medicis, by whom they were accepted. The Queen-mother had no sooner formed her little Court than the Abbé proceeded to lay the foundations of his plot, which was based upon her return to power, and which he was well aware must involve the ruin of De Luynes; while at the same time he felt satisfied that he should be amply recompensed by Marie herself for his services.[4] No opposition had been made to the self-banishment of Rucellaï by the Court party, as he was well known to be in infirm health and of effeminate habits; and to exhibit in every phase of his character the very reverse of a conspirator. He had, moreover, made friends during his residence in Paris; and, through the interest of Zamet, had obtained the Abbey of Signy in Champagne, which, together with his family inheritance, secured to him an annual income of twenty thousand crowns. This revenue he spent in the most liberal manner, and soon became very popular from the suavity and refinement of his manners, and his extreme generosity. An affair of gallantry had, however, involved him in a quarrel with the nephew of the Duc d'Epernon; who, espousing the cause of his relative, in his turn excited the hatred of the Abbé.[5]

Rucellaï had been but a short time at Blois before he felt that he could carry out his plans with greater facility in the capital than while subjected to the constant surveillance of the Court spies by whom Marie de Medicis was surrounded; and he accordingly obtained permission to return to Court, De Luynes being easily induced to believe that his application was caused by his weariness of the monotony of Blois, and his desire to participate once more in the gaieties of Paris. The fact, however, was far otherwise. The thirst for vengeance had produced a singular effect upon the Florentine; and although he still affected to enact the sybarite, in order to mislead those whom he sought to ruin, he became suddenly endued with a moral energy as well as a physical strength of which no one had believed him to be possessed. Neither fatigue, danger, nor difficulty sufficed to paralyze his exertions; and if he was one hour at the feet of a Court beauty, he was busied the next in the most subtle and well-devised attempts to win over one or other of the great nobles to the cause of the exiled Queen.[6]

He experienced little difficulty in his undertaking; all the Princes desiring the ruin of De Luynes and the return of the Queen-mother; but when he urged that an