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"And what was Comminges saying to you in reply, my good Guitant?" "My lord," said Comminges, "I answered that to compose a Ligue only one ingredient was wanting in my opinion an essential one a Duc de Guise; moreover, no generation ever does the same thing twice." "No, but they mean to make a Fronde, as they call it," said Guitant. "And what is a Fronde?" inquired Mazarin.
Now the Italians and the Gascons are too much alike and know each other too well ever to trust what any one of them may say of himself; so in reaching the walls which surrounded the Palais Royal, the cardinal knocked at a little door, and after thanking D'Artagnan and requesting him to wait in the court of the Palais Royal, he made a sign to Guitant to follow him.
They both dismounted, consigned their horses to the lackey who had opened the door, and disappeared in the garden. "My dear friend," said the cardinal, leaning, as they walked through the garden, on his friend's arm, "you told me just now that you had been twenty years in the queen's service." "Yes, it's true. I have," returned Guitant.
"Yes, yes, Guitant," said Mazarin; "Richelieu was a great man, a very great man, but he had that defect. Thanks, Guitant; I shall benefit by your advice this very evening." Here they separated and bidding adieu to Guitant in the court of the Palais Royal, Mazarin approached an officer who was walking up and down within that inclosure. It was D'Artagnan, who was waiting for him.
"Yes, but I could give him the order I, Guitant and I preferred to give it to you." Guitant, without reply, rode forward and desired the sentinel to call Monsieur de Villequier. "Ah! so you are here!" cried the officer, in the tone of ill-humor habitual to him; "what the devil are you doing here?" "I wish to know can you tell me, pray is anything fresh occurring in this part of the town?"
The Rue Richelieu and the Rue Villedot were then, owing to their vicinity to the ramparts, less frequented than any others in that direction, for the town was thinly inhabited thereabout. "Who is in command here?" asked the cardinal. "Villequier," said Guitant. "Diavolo!
Guitant and Comminges, at the head of the guards, marched first; then came the royal carriage, with D'Artagnan on one side, Porthos on the other; then the musketeers, for two and twenty years staunch friends of D'Artagnan. During twenty he had been lieutenant, their captain since the night before. The cortege proceeded to Notre Dame, where a Te Deum was chanted. All Paris were in the streets.
She remembered the sights she had just seen; she thought of Rochefoucauld, with his eye shot out and his white garments stained with blood, of Guitant shot through the body, of Roche-Giffard, whom she pitied, "though a Protestant."
Come, Guitant, come along, and let's see if they keep watch at the Quinze-Vingts as at the Barriere des Sergens." And waving his hand to Comminges he rejoined D'Artagnan, who instantly put himself at the head of his troop, followed by the cardinal, Guitant and the rest of the escort. "Just so," muttered Comminges, looking after Mazarin.
Nevertheless, at eight o'clock in the morning the regiment of the queen's guards, commanded by Guitant, under whom was his nephew Comminges, marched publicly, preceded by drums and trumpets, filing off from the Palais Royal as far as Notre Dame, a manoeuvre which the Parisians witnessed tranquilly, delighted as they were with military music and brilliant uniforms.
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