His eminence's gout had left him; he was walking about his chamber in a state of great anxiety, listening at doors and looking out of windows.

Bernouin entered, followed by the gentleman, who had orders from the king to place the letter in the hands of the cardinal himself.
Mazarin took the letter, but before opening it, he got up a ready smile, a smile of circumstance, able to throw a veil over emotions of whatever sort they might be.

So prepared, whatever was the impression received from the letter, no reflection of that impression was allowed to transpire upon his countenance.
"Well," said he, when he had read and reread the letter, "very well, monsieur.

Inform the king that I thank him for his obedience to the wishes of the queen-mother, and that I will do everything for the accomplishment of his will." The gentleman left the room.

The door had scarcely closed before the cardinal, who had no mask for Bernouin, took off that which had so recently covered his face, and with a most dismal expression,--"Call M.
de Brienne," said he.