"Ha!" exclaimed Chavigni, as the Cardinal's words recalled to his mind the conversation between Cinq Mars and Fontrailles--"I had forgot--like an idiot, I had forgot!" and he struck his clenched hand violently against his brow, as if he sought to punish his own folly. "But it is not yet too late," he cried, "it is not yet too late."
"Forgot what, Chavigni?" demanded the Cardinal, seeing with astonishment the emotion which was called up in his friend by the remembrance of so great an oversight. "Forgot what? Too late for what? What is it moves you so deeply?"
"Pardon me, your Eminence," replied Chavigni, "I have not time to explain; only I have to ask two favours. The first is, that you will let me take a stout horse from your stables; mine will go no farther. The next," he added, in a tone of greater composure, but still one of earnest entreaty--"the next is, if you had ever a regard for me--if ever I served you well and faithfully, that you will promise me to take no step in the business we have spoken of, till my return; which shall be before to-morrow evening."
"It can make but little difference waiting till that time," answered the Cardinal. "But what is the matter, Chavigni? What is it agitates you thus?"
"Have I your promise, Monseigneur?" asked Chavigni quickly.
"You have," said Richelieu. "Out of regard for you, and solely because you ask it, I will suspend my resolution till your return."
"Well then, God protect your Eminence till we meet again!" exclaimed the Statesman. "I go upon your service; and if I do not succeed, I care not how soon my head may be brought to the block, as a just punishment for my mad forgetfulness." Thus saying, he quitted the room, and descending to the stables, called up the grooms whose sleepy movements ill accorded with the rapid emotions of his bosom. Now the stirrups were not long enough, then the girths had to be buckled tighter, then the bit was mislaid, and then the crupper could not be found. At length, however, the horse was fully prepared, and calling for a cup of wine, Chavigni drained it to the bottom, and galloping out of the court, was soon once more on the road to Narbonne. But it was in vain that he used whip and spur to arrive at that town before the hour appointed for the Italian's departure. Ere he had measured half the way, the day rose bright over the hills before him, and clenching his hands, he exclaimed in the bitterness of disappointment, "Too late! I am too late!" Still, however, he went on at full speed, hoping that by sending out couriers in every different direction he might yet overtake the messenger.