“Exactly so,” said the cardinal. “The only difficulty at this moment is to find some woman, handsome, young, and clever, who wants to get revenge on the duke. Such a woman may be found. The duke has had many love affairs, and if he has succeeded in many of his intrigues by his promises of eternal constancy, he must likewise have sown the seeds of many hatreds by his eternal infidelities.”

“No doubt,” said milady coolly, “such a woman may be found.”

“Well, such a woman, who would put Jacques Clement’s knife or Ravaillac’s in a fanatic’s hands, would save France.”

“She is found,” said milady.

“Then we must find the miserable fanatic who will serve as an instrument of God’s justice.”

“He will be found.”

“Well,” said the cardinal, “that is it.”

“And now,” said milady, without appearing to remark the change of the cardinal’s tone toward her—“now that I have received your Eminence’s instructions regarding your enemies, will monseigneur permit me to say a few words to him of mine?”

“Who are they?” replied the cardinal.

“In the first place, there is a little intriguing woman named Bonacieux.”

“She is in the prison of Nantes.”

“That is to say, she was there,” replied milady; “but the queen obtained an order from the king, by means of which she has been conveyed to a convent.”

“And what convent?”

“I don’t know; the secret has been well kept.”

“But I will know!”

“And will your Eminence tell me in what convent this woman is?”

“I see nothing improper in that,” said the cardinal.

“Well, now I have an enemy much more to be dreaded by me than this little Madame Bonacieux.”

“Who is that?”

“Her lover.”

“What is his name?”

“I mean that wretch D’Artagnan.”

“He is a bold fellow,” said the cardinal.

“And because he is a bold fellow he is the more to be feared.”

“I must have,” said the cardinal, “a proof of his connection with Buckingham.”