to the throne of his ancestors." This shade did not escape his cunning eminence.

Mazarin was too much accustomed to mankind, not to see in the cold and almost haughty politeness of Athos, an index of hostility, which was not of the temperature of that hot-house called a court.
"You have powers, I suppose ?" asked Mazarin, in a short, querulous tone.
"Yes, monseigneur." And the word "monseigneur" came so painfully from the lips of Athos that it might be said it skinned them.
Athos took from an embroidered velvet bag which he carried under his doublet a dispatch.

The cardinal held out his hand for it.

"Your pardon, monseigneur," said Athos.

"My dispatch is for the king." "Since you are a Frenchman, monsieur, you ought to know the position of a prime minister at the court of France." "There was a time," replied Athos, "when I occupied myself with the importance of prime ministers; but I have formed, long ago, a resolution to treat no longer with any but the king." "Then, monsieur," said Mazarin, who began to be irritated, "you will neither see the minister nor the king." Mazarin rose.