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76 sovereign of that gorgeous court—wealth and power were in his right hand; and his enemies—where were they?—who now was bold enough to call himself Mazarin's enemy?—all was submission, varnished by flattery. Some passing allusion on the stage was adroitly turned into a personal compliment, and the whole audience marked their perception by their applause. Just then one of his suite entered, and whispered a few words;—the Cardinal became deadly pale; he muttered some hurried and inaudible apology, and rushed from the box. He attempted to open the door of the first carriage he saw—his hand trembled too much. The servants, seeing a stranger, were about to repulse him, when some one recognised him. He was assisted in, and they drove with all speed to the Hôtel Vendôme.

Rapidly he passed through the silent and lonely chambers, till he reached one, the most silent of all. For her sake who was suffering there, he paused to repress his emotion; but his step was unsteady, and his face ghastly, as he approached the bed. His niece knew him instantly; and a gleam of joy passed over her countenance, too beautiful for sickness or death. The fever which consumed her gave a deep colour to her cheeks—a flashing light to her eyes; while the