I repeat to you, I arrived scarce two hours ago." It was now for the
first time that he noted the seriousness of the faces confronting him.
"And I repeat that you arrived last night."
"Monseigneur, that is telling me that I lie!"
"Then tell the truth." Mazarin did not particularly relish the
Chevalier's haughtiness. "You were in Paris last night."
"Monseigneur, I am a gentleman. While I lack many virtues, I do not
lack courage and truthfulness. When I say that I slept in
Fontainebleau, I say so truthfully. Your Eminence will tell me the
cause of this peculiar interrogatory. There is an accusation pending."
There was no fear in the Chevalier's face, but there was pride and
courage and something bordering closely on contempt.
"Very well, then," replied Mazarin icily. "You were in Paris last
night. You had an appointment at the Hotel de Brissac. You entered by
a window. Being surprised by the aged Brissac, you killed him."
The musketeers, who knew the Chevalier's courage, exchanged glances of
surprise and disbelief. As for the accused, he stepped back, horrified.
"Monseigneur, one or the other of us is mad! I pray God that it be
myself; for it can not be possible that the first minister in France
would accuse of such a crime a gentleman who not only possesses courage
but pride.
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