Chapter One.

Right after the conversation at Richelieu's, Giulio Mazarini moved to Chavigny's mansion on Rue du Roi de Sicile. Mazarini was given a whole wing of the house with its own entrance, bedroom and drawing room, servant rooms and a kitchen.

Financially Mazarini was quite well off because he continued to receive benefices from his various canonries in the Papal State. So it was no problem for him to redecorate, with the owner's permission, his part of the house, using expensive tapestries, drapes, carpets, furniture, etc. With his natural appreciation of beauty, so often an innate quality of Italians, he acquired paintings, sculptures, and pieces of decorative art, transforming the rarely visited part of the house into a cozy and elegant dwelling.

For the first time in his life Mazarini had the time and leisure, at least temporarily, to start collecting rare books and works of famous painters and sculptors. He did not know whether he would ever have a lodging of his own in Paris to house all these treasures, but he collected them all the same.

Once, about two weeks after he moved to Chavigny's house, Mazarini was talking to his art agent about the possibility of acquiring several Velazquezes. He was informed that two portraits by Velazquez were for sale in one of the Paris mansions.

- Who is the owner? - asked Mazarini

- A certain Baron de Vitray, but he does not live in the house, - answered the agent.

- Baron de Vitray? Does he live in the Netherlands?

- Yes, Monseigneur, I heard that, but all my dealings are through his agent.

- I'll think about whether I'd like to see the paintings and will let you know.

- Certainly, Monseigneur.

When he left, Mazarini was plunged into his now distant memories of his stay in Avignon as the vice-legate from 1632 to 1634, of his love for Louise de Vitray, the baron's daughter, who had been seduced and then abducted by the Spanish Inquisition agent, de Arcos. He took her to Avignon where Mazarini first saw her. When Giulio saved Louise from her tormentor she fell in love with the young prelate (Mazarini was just thirty years old then). Unfortunately their love did not last long. Louise's father took her away from Avignon back to Paris. Then Mazarini and Louise met again in Lorraine to where her father had to flee because he was anti-Richelieu, and where Mazarini had been sent to conduct negotiations. Mazarini was so much in love that, when they met in Lorraine, he proposed to marry Louise and asked her father's permission. He was ready to leave his ecclesiastic career in order to be with his beloved Louise. But the baron did not want to see his daughter as the wife of a commoner, and refused to give his consent. After the baron inadvertently killed his daughter's abductor de Arcos, he and Louise had to flee again, this time to the Netherlands.

By 1640, when Mazarini moved to France, he finally had reconciled himself to the loss of Louise and tried to forget everything connected with her. But now fate wanted to offer him a reminder of his past feelings.

He did not know what to do. On the one hand, he was dying to see the house where Louise had lived for many years, but on the other, there was a fear that his suffering would return.

The indecision continued when he got a note from d'Arville inviting him to pay a visit to him and his wife, the beautiful Elvira, another of Mazarini's friends from long ago. Mazarini had not yet been at their home since his arrival in Paris. It was a matter of politeness to visit them, but deep in his heart he also remembered that Elvira used to be Louise's close friend even before Louise had met de Arcos. Might Elvira have some news of her friend?

Mazarini went to the d'Arvilles' that same evening and was met by his hosts, who were sincerely glad to see him.

D'Arville and his wife lived on Rue de Saint-Jacques in a spacious house typical of its bourgeois surroundings: small windows, almost no ornaments, a wide gate obviously used for deliveries rather than receiving guests. The only nice thing about the house was a well kept garden in the back yard.

D'Arville's attire was unpretentious and comfortable, but Elvira was in a beautiful dark red dress with a low neckline, revealing her seductive cleavage. Her fingers were adorned with several rings displaying expensive gems, and the bracelets on her wrists attracted Giulio's attention by their pure gold shine.

She had hardly changed since the time Mazarini first met her in Ancona, a small Italian town, about fifteen years ago. Her body was as graceful and thin as before, her charming face did not have a single wrinkle, her eyes remained full of passionate radiance, and her dark hair tumbled down her shoulders in thick rich curls.

"Whatever was her past, d'Arville was right to marry her," - thought Giulio.

In spite of his wife's suggestive looks, d'Arville did not appear to be jealous at all; rather, he was proud of the beauty of his wife.

They sat down in the drawing room on couches covered with Persian rugs and were served coffee (that drink had finally become quite popular) with tartlets and pastries.

- Giulio, - said d'Arville, - my wife and I have long wanted to see you here. We don't have too many friends. So your friendship is very precious to us.

- Gilbert, you sound too pompous, my friend. You know very well that our friendship is more than precious, it's brotherly. At least, that's what it is to me.

- Brotherly! That's a good word, - said d'Arville. - I used the word "precious" because I spoke for my wife too. But it would be great if you had brotherly feelings toward her too. I'd be much less jealous.

They all laughed.

- Giulio, - said Elvira with a cunning smile, - I've known you since you were a young boy in a military uniform and it was funny that they called you "Captain." So it's not difficult for me to imagine myself your sister, elder sister, by the way.

- How about Parisian society? - asked Mazarini. - Have they finally accepted you, in spite of the fact that you're not a countess by birth?

- They have. New faces have appeared at court. They've known me as the Countess d'Arville since the time they arrived. But I'll never forget my dear Louise de Vitray, who was courageous enough to befriend me when I was rejected by the Paris beau monde.

Mazarini was silent.

- Are you still in love with her? - asked d'Arville quite matter-of-factly.

- Why do you think I was in love with her?

Mazarini said that calmly, trying not to blush.

- Tut, tut, tut. I was not blind in Avignon. Well, brother, you said you were my brother, I didn't expect you to conceal anything from me.

- Love concerns two people. I may be your brother, but Louise is not your sister. I can't discuss things that may be intimate to her, even though they are of no importance to me.

- All right, all right. If you are indifferent to her, you may not be interested in a letter she sent us in which she writes about you in almost every line.

Mazarini was surprised.

- Yes, yes, - said Elvira playfully, - here is the letter on the mantelpiece, but we've read it already and perhaps I'll throw it into the fireplace.

She reached for the letter.

- No, - said Mazarini.

- No?

- Did you mean to show me the letter?

- Well, we wanted to, but . . .

- No buts. Give it to me, - said Mazarini firmly.

Elvira cast a meaningful glance at her husband and gave the letter to Mazarini.

The letter read:

"My dear Elvira,

We have not corresponded for some time. That's not because I've forgotten you, it's because of the difficult time I am having now. My father is broke, we can barely make ends meet. He is trying to sell most of the valuable things in our Paris house, like paintings, sculptures and even furniture. My father often recalls now, with great regret, how he refused to let me marry Monsignor Mazarini when he made a proposal to me in Lorraine. I am devastated by such an attitude. It means he wants me to marry Monsignor Mazarini for his money. This is such a humiliation! But it's especially painful because I still love Giulio. I refused several advantageous proposals here because I can't be with any other man. I am alone and my life is devoted solely to my daughter. Sofia is already fifteen years old and is a wonderful girl. And even in what concerns my daughter, Giulio Mazarini played a vital, life-saving role. Maybe you know that he and his servant saved Sofia, when she was just five years old, from a burning building in a village struck by the plague. There is no one closer to me than he, but we are evidently not destined to be with each other. If several years ago my father rejected him because he was a commoner, now I will have to reject him because my father wants me to marry him for his money.

I am saying all this to you because I know that my father is planning to write a letter to Mazarini offering him my hand. What a disgrace! I am asking you, my friends, please use your influence on Giulio and explain to him that I would never agree to such a marriage. You may even show him this letter. I did not dare write him myself because of all these humiliating new factors surrounding our relations.

I pray to God that my letter arrives before my father's.

Yours faithfully and with love,

Louise."

Mazarini gave the letter back to Elvira and sat for a while in silence.

- Gilbert, - he said at last, - could you spare some time for me tomorrow morning? No more than about two hours.

- I am at your disposal, my friend, for the whole day, but not tomorrow. The day after tomorrow, if that's all right with you.

- I think that'll be fine, - answered Giulio, somewhat hesitantly.

- Am I invited? - asked Elvira, pouting as if she knew in advance that the answer would be negative.

- Elvira, you are always invited to take part in anything interesting, - said Mazarini. - But the day after tomorrow we'll deal with some boring business that concerns Richelieu.

- Richelieu? That awful man? You're right; that would be too boring.

They talked a little longer, then went into the inner garden and strolled along its two paths.

It was obvious that Mazarini was sad and his thoughts were far away.

At last, having observed all the requirements of politeness, Mazarini left for home.

The next day he received the following letter:

"To Monsignor Mazarini.

Monsieur, I often recall our meetings in Lorraine when you asked for the hand of my daughter Louise. I did not realize then how serious her feelings toward you were. I thought it was a typical infatuation of youth that would not last long. In order not to hurt my daughter's feelings by showing my skepticism, I had to invent a reason for my refusal that was not connected with her attitude to you. So, I used a typical response of a father who cares for the continuation of his daughter's aristocratic ancestral status and refused you allegedly on the basis of your family's non-aristocratic lineage. But I assure you: that was just a subterfuge to prevent my daughter from acting on an impulse.

Now, after several years, I can clearly see that her feelings were genuine; she was and is quite seriously in love with you. So I am writing you to let you know that now I will agree to close my eyes to your non-aristocratic descent and, should you still wish to marry my daughter, there will not be any objection on my part.

Yours sincerely

Baron de Vitray."

After Mazarini read the letter he fell back in his easy chair and closed his eyes.

"If not for Louise's letter that I read yesterday, would I believe this one? The father sounds sincere and his explanation is quite plausible. What if money has nothing to do with his present decision? Impossible. I must believe Louise. She says her father is broke and predicts his sending me the letter. But what if. . ., what if she is wrong?"

These thoughts were tormenting Mazarini relentlessly. He needed some confirmation of Louise's words.

He went to his desk and wrote a note inviting his art agent to come as soon as possible.

The agent arrived in an hour.

Mazarini had just one question: what else, in addition to the Velazquezes, was for sale in the Baron de Vitray's house?

- Practically everything, - said the agent. - All the paintings, about thirty of them, several sculptures, all the tapestries and some fine furniture.

- What about the prices?

- Prices are reasonable and in some cases even below the market value.

- Why is that so? What do you think?

- In our business that means only one thing: the owner is in desperate need of funds and the sooner he gets them the better. Are you interested, Monseigneur? - said the agent.

Mazarini answered that he would think about it, and sent the agent away.

Yes, that was an independent confirmation: Louise was right, the baron was broke.

Giulio took a piece of paper and wrote:

"To Monsieur le Baron de Vitray.

Your Grace, I received your letter and I find it very disturbing to my honor. You once explained to me that, by birth, I was not worthy to marry your daughter. This time, although you say you agree to our marriage, you again mention my low birth, which you now condescend to close your eyes to. Whatever has changed your mind, I don't think I deserve this constant reminder of the status of my family, which has always been held in high esteem in Italy, where social prejudices are not taken as seriously as they are in France. Thus I have to decline your proposal.

Yours respectfully

Giulio Mazarini."

He put the letter in an envelope but did not seal it.

He was not sure he was doing the right thing: any hope of meeting with Louise again would now be lost if he sent the letter.

The Baron de Vitray was broke and Giulio did not feel any pity towards him, but his misery would naturally reflect on the living conditions of Louise. Her lot now was abject poverty, a constant struggle to support her daughter and perhaps even her father. Having thought about that Mazarini now knew what to do. To realize his idea he'd wait until tomorrow when d'Arville promised to come to see him.

*

On the following day d'Arville arrived at ten in the morning. He obviously wanted to know what Mazarini was planning to do that required his help.

- We are going to visit the Baron de Vitray's house, - said Mazarini.

- That old good-for-nothing who went bankrupt in spite of the riches he took with him when he fled to the Netherlands? What do you want to see his house for?

- Gilbert, I want to do something with the help of a proxy.

- And that proxy should be me?

- Yes.

- Giulio, you have an interesting way of asking for help without explaining what it's all about, as if you are checking up on me.

- Yes, I'm checking your brotherly feelings.

- You don't want me to be an irresponsible brother, do you?

- I don't need an irresponsible brother, I need a faithful one.

- All right. A proxy in what?

- I want to buy all the property inside de Vitray's house.

- Oh, my! That will cost you thousands!

- You are right, quite a few thousands. But I don't want de Vitray's agent to know that it was me who made the purchase. That's why I need you as a proxy.

- My dear friend, I need to know the reason why you don't want the baron to know who the real buyer is.

- Why do you need to know?

- The reason is simple. The Baron de Vitray is a sworn enemy of Richelieu's. Any dealings with him may seem suspicious to Richelieu. Is this why you want me to do it? To protect your relationship with Richelieu?

Mazarini looked at d'Arville with genuine pity.

- My dear friend, I could be offended, seriously offended, if it weren't you. But I am not offended, because I know that you really don't believe in what you are saying and that you are capable of seeing the real reason if you give it more thought.

D'Arville was sulking.

- Give me a hint.

- A hint? Will you suffer from de Vitray's bankruptcy? No. Will I suffer? No. Think who will.

- Oh, my God! Louise! How stupid I am! - exclaimed d'Arville. - You buy everything and they'll have the money they need for years. But why conceal the purchase from her?

- Think again.

- A hint, please!

- Read this. It's not a hint. It's an explanation.

Mazarini gave d'Arville his letter to de Vitray. D'Arville quickly read it and gave it back to Mazarini.

- Yes, you are doing right. After such a letter he shouldn't know it is you who are helping him, - said d'Arville.

- Not just him. Louise should not know, either. I don't want it to look like I'm ingratiating myself after her decision not to marry me.

They stayed silent for a while.

- All right, - said d'Arville finally. - I agree.

- You are doing the right thing. I'll explain everything to Richelieu and you won't lose his favor. But if you refused you'd lose my friendship.

- What shall we do? - asked d'Arville.

- We'll go to de Vitray's house right away.

Mazarini sent a note to his agent, asking him to come immediately. He wanted to present d'Arville to him as a new buyer of de Vitray's property, and to go to the baron's house together with them.

Mazarini also sealed his letter to de Vitray and told a servant to take it to the post office.

*

When Mazarini, his agent, and D'Arville arrived at the mansion belonging to the Baron de Vitray, the door was opened by a man in black. Mazarini thought he was de Vitray's agent, but he turned out to be just a servant. However, it was evident that he was used to the visits of prospective buyers, and volunteered to take Mazarini and his companions to the halls where the paintings were hanging on display.

They passed from one room to another, admiring several Leonardos, Velazquezes, Rubenses and Rafaels.

Mazarini told his agent to ask the Count d'Arville what he was going to buy.

- Everything, - said d'Arville calmly.

- Do you mean all these pictures? - asked the agent, in awe.

- Also all the sculptures, bijoux, and some furniture.

- Monsieur le Comte, do you know how much all of this will cost?

- Well, Monsieur, Monseigneur Mazarin recommended that you be my agent. So, I am expecting you to tell me the price of all these things.

Suddenly a voice was heard:

- Messieurs, no discussion of the price is possible.

An old man came out of a door that was not easily noticeable behind the drapes.

- Why?! - exclaimed d'Arville, Mazarini and their agent.

- Because everything has already been sold.

- Sold?! - said Mazarini in disbelief. - To whom?

- To me, - was the answer, and from the same door there appeared the figure of a tall man.

- Cinq-Mars! - exclaimed d'Arville.

- Yes, it's me. You are too late, Messieurs. I've bought everything, even the furniture.

Mazarini and d'Arville looked absolutely astounded.

- Allow me to introduce Monsieur Toube, my agent in art transactions, - said Cinq-Mars. - He was more adroit than your agent, Monsieur Mazarin.

- Monsieur Mazarin's agent is now mine as well., - said d'Arville, not quite sure why he said that.

- Oh, you have one agent between the two of you? I've heard about sharing a mistress, or even a wife, but an agent? That's bizarre.

- It's less bizarre, - said Mazarini, - than standing behind a door and listening to other people's conversation. I'm talking about your agent, of course.

Cinq-Mars cast a hateful glance at Mazarini.

But Mazarini pretended he did not notice the glance and continued:

- As you have quite correctly noted, I like sharing agents. Maybe you'll share yours with me?

- No, Monsieur. Sieur Toube won't agree.

- Why not?

- Because he chooses his clients only from among the nobility. The Count d'Arville perhaps would do.

- I value nobility of behavior much more than the meaningless nobility of the blood, - said Mazarini. - It's a pity your agent doesn't understand that as well as I am sure you do, being a highly cultivated man.

They bowed to each other and Mazarini, d'Arville and their agent left.

*

The next day d'Arville was sitting across from Richelieu at a desk in his office.

- So, I was right, - said Richelieu, - Mazarini reacted to Louise's letter by deciding to buy their property and help her out financially.

- Yes, Your Eminence, your foresight was accurate.

- And he, as I predicted, asked you to be his proxy in the purchase.

- Yes, but not for the reason Your Eminence supposed he would.

- He didn't mean to protect himself against my anger?

- No, Your Eminence.

- What was the reason then?

- He didn't want Louise to know that he wished to help her.

- Well, that can be understood. But how do you know this is so?

- He showed me the letter he had written to the Baron de Vitray. He informed the baron that he refused the hand of his daughter. That was a final breach in his relationship with Louise.

- Ah, that letter. A copy of it has been lying on my table since yesterday, when it was intercepted, but I didn't have time to read it.

Richelieu took the copy and read it carefully.

- What a good fellow! - he said finally. - He annihilated the conceited baron in a couple of lines.

- Your Eminence should have seen how he annihilated another uppity person yesterday.

- Who was that?

- The Count de Cinq-Mars. He told him that nobility of the blood was nothing in comparison to nobility of behavior.

Richelieu stood up from his chair.

- The Count de Cinq-Mars? Where was he?

- At the house of the Baron de Vitray.

- What was Cinq-Mars doing there?

D'Arville told the cardinal about the unexpected purchase of all de Vitray's property by Cinq-Mars.

Richelieu was quite upset.

- I foresaw everything Mazarini would do, but I couldn't predict the actions of a person who is my protege and faithful servant.

- Perhaps Your Eminence should revise your attitude toward this irresponsible youth.

- Stop talking nonsense! Don't touch Cinq-Mars! You are jealous of his closeness to me and are trying to denigrate him!

- I don't think so, Your Eminence. I don't hope to ever replace Cinq-Mars in his closeness to you. I simply don't like unexplainable behavior. Why did Cinq-Mars buy all de Vitray's belongings? He does not have any romantic feelings for the baron's daughter. He has never even seen her. And why this strange wish to assist the baron? He doesn't even have the space to keep all he has bought, and will have to ask his friends to take some of the paintings and furniture.

- Any guesses as to why he did it? - asked Richelieu gloomily.

- No idea. But I didn't like the way his art agent looked. Shifty eyes, wide brimmed hat covering half of his face.

- Do you know his name?

- Yes, Monsieur Toube.

- What?! - almost screamed Richelieu. - Monsieur Toube?! Are you sure?

- Yes, Your Eminence.

Richelieu began pacing the room, at times holding his head with his hands.

Then he went up to d'Arville and said abruptly:

- I want you to watch this Toube. I want to know everything he does in Paris, and especially his contacts and travels. This is your most important assignment.

- What about Mazarini?

- Mazarini? I think he has passed the test. Leave him alone for a while.

- What about Cinq-Mars? Aren't his actions suspicious? Should I watch him too?

Richelieu's face became purple.

- Forget about Cinq-Mars! Do you hear?! He is very much interested in art and is a great art collector. Everybody knows that. There's nothing unusual in this purchase. He is beyond any suspicions! Besides, he is just a boy and he is the son of my closest friend, the late Marshal d'Effiat. If you don't want to make me angry, stop saying anything bad about Cinq-Mars.

- Yes, Your Eminence. I understand.

*

D'Arville was riding home to Rue de Saint-Jacques. As always, he was tired after a talk with Richelieu.

- He is defending Cinq-Mars, - thought d'Arville. - That means he has begun to suspect him. Of what? I don't know. He doesn't know yet either, I am sure. I know one thing, Cinq-Mars is now at the cross-roads of his life: he is either to soar or to plummet. We'll see. I always said it's interesting to work for Richelieu.

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