"I will make you so great," he said to Lauzun, "that you shall have no cause to regret what I am taking from you; meanwhile, I make you duke, and peer, and marshal of France." "Sir," broke in Lauzun, insolently, "you have made so many dukes that it is no longer an honor to be one, and as for the baton of marshal of France, your Majesty can give it me when I have earned it by my services." He was before long sent to Pignerol, where he passed ten years.

There he met Fouquet, and that mysterious personage called the Iron Mask, whose name has not yet been discovered to a certainty by means of all the most ingenious conjectures.
It was only by settling all her property on the Duke of Maine after herself that Mademoiselle purchased Lauzun's release.

The king had given his posts to the Prince of Marcillac, son of La Rochefoucauld.

He at the same time overwhelmed Marshal Bellefonds with kindnesses.
[Illustration: The Iron Mask----14] "He sent for him into his study," says Madame de Sevigne,--and said to him, 'Marshal, I want to know why you are anxious to leave me.

Is it a devout feeling?
Is it a desire for retirement?
Is it the pressure of your debts?
If the last, I shall be glad to set it right, and enter into the details of your affairs.' The marshal was sensibly touched by this kindness: 'Sir,' said he, 'it is my debts; I am over head and ears.
I cannot see the consequences borne by some of my friends who have assisted me, and whom I cannot pay.' 'Well,' said the king, 'they must have security for what is owing to them.