Waterbury evening Democrat., 1905-12-23
CHAPTER XIV.

R1e room, long narrow gallery, through which it was his custom to Halk every morning after receiving Ais more important visitors. I stared, 1 say, round this room, in state of stupefaction. The seats against either wall were empty, the recesses of the windows empty too. The hat, lsculp- tured and painted here and there, the staring R, the blazoned arms, looked down on a vacant floor. Only, on a little stool by the main door, sat a quiet-faced man in black, who read, or pretended to read, in little book, and never looked up. One of those men, blind, deaf, secretive, who fatten in the shadow of the great. ,s E. a.
 At length, while stood confounded and full of shamed thought--for had seen the ante-chamber of Richelieus old hotel so crowded that he could not walk through it-this man closed his book, rose and came noiselessly to- wards me. ''M. de Berault?" he said
 "Yes," I answered. f-.-. -r-
 His Eminence awaits you. Be good enough to follow me-"
 II did so, in a deeper stupor than before. For how could the cardinal know that was here? How could he have known when he gave the order? But had short time to think of these things. We passed through two rooms, in one of which some secretaries were writing; we stopped at a third door. Over all brooded silence which could be felt. The usher knocked, opened, and with his finger on his lip, pushed aside a curtain and signed to me to enter. I did so, and found myself standing behind a screen.
 ''Is that M. de Berault?" asked thin. high-pitched voice.
 "Yes, Monseigneur," I answered, Trembling. r.s-E s ...... 1"Then come, my friend. and talk 60 me" --.-, r.g-.s. -=. T went round the screen; and know not how it was, the watching crowd outside, the vacant antechamber in which I had stood the stillness-all seemed concentrated here, and gave to the man I saw before me a dignity which he had never possessed for me when the world passed through his doors. and the proudest fawned on him for a smile. He sat in a great chair on the farther side of the hearth, little red skull-cap on his head, his fine hands lying motionless in his lap The collar of fawn which fell over his red cape was quite plain. but the skirts If roJ ha xrrffh ,-sa lace and the order of the Holy Ghost shone on his breast Among the null titudinous papers on the great table near him I saw a sword and pistols lying: and some tapestry that covered | little table behind him failed to | hide a pair of spurred riding boots. | But he-in spite of these signs of trou- ! ble-looked towards me as I advanced, | with a face mild and almost benign | a face in which strove in vain to find | traces of last nights passion So that ! 1t flashed across me that if this man | really stood-and afteTward knew he . did-on the thin razor-edge between ! life and death. between the supreme { of earthly power. lord of France. and !. arbiter of Europe. and the nothing. ness of the clod, he justified his fame i He gave weaker natures no room for 1 triumph.
 The thought was no sooner enter ! tained than it was gone. And so you are back at last. NJ. de Berault?" he said. gently. "I have been expecting 1 to see you since nine this morning."
 'fYour Eminence knew then" ] muttered.
 ''That you returned to Paris by the i Orleans gate last evening. alone?" He fitted together the ends of his | fingers. and looked at me over them with incrutable eyes "Yes. knew . an that last night And now of your mission2 You have been faithful and | diligsnt. am sure. Where is he?" I stared at him. and was dumb. l Somehow the strange things I had | seen since I left my lodging. the sur prises had found awaiting me here, ! had driven my own fortunes. my own l peril. out of my head. until this mo- . ment. Now. at this question. all re- turned with a rush. My heart heaved | suddenly in my breast I strove for a savor of the old hardihood; but for the moment I could not find a word.
 ~well2" he said lightly. a faint smile lifting his mustache. You do not speak. You left Auch with him on the twenty-fourth. N. je Berault. So much know And you reached Paris without him last night. He has not given you the slip?' with sudden anil nation.
 No. M0nseigneur." I muttered.
 "Hal That is good" he answered. sinking back again in his chair. For the moment-but knew could de pend on you And now where is he2' be continued What have you done with him? He knows much and the sooner know it. the better. Are your seOPls bringing him. T, de BeraultZ''
 No. Monseigneur,- I stammered. zith dry 1irs. His very good humor. his beniguity. appalled, me I knew how terrible would be the change. how fearful his rage. when should tel him the truth. And ret that I. Gil ds Berault. should tre-ble before any man, sVurred myself. ss ft were to the task "NO, YOar Enirenee.@ said. with tie courage of despair. -II have not brought him. becauss I have sst him frse
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