How People Do Not Always Lose Their Time by Searching Empty Drawers.

The scene which the duke had just had with the king made him regard his position as desperate. The minions had not allowed him to be ignorant of what had passed, and he had heard the people cry, “Vive le roi!” He felt himself abandoned by the other chiefs, who had themselves to save. In his quarrels with his brother Charles he had always had for confidants, or rather dupes, those two devoted men, Coconnas and La Mole, and, for the first time in his life, feeling himself alone and isolated, he felt a kind of remorse at having sacrificed them. During that time his sister Marguerite loved and consoled him. How had he recompensed her?

He had recently had near him a brave and valiant heart and sword — Bussy, the brave Bussy. And he had offended him to please Monsoreau, who had his secret, with which he always threatened him, and which was now known to the king. He had therefore quarreled with Bussy gratuitously, and, above all, uselessly, which as a great politician once said, “was more than a crime, it was a mistake!” How he would have rejoiced in his present situation, to know that Bussy was watching over him; Bussy the loyal, Bussy the universal favorite. It would have been probable liberty and certain vengeance.

But as we have said, Bussy, wounded to the heart, kept away from the prince, so the prisoner remained fifty feet above the ground, with the four favorites in the corridor, without counting the court full of Swiss. Besides this, one or other of the young men entered from time to time, and, without seeming even to notice the prince, went round the room, examined the doors and windows, looked under the beds and tables, and glanced at the curtains and sheets.

“Ma foi!” said Maugiron, after one of these visits, “I have done; I am not going to look after him any more to-night.”

“Yes,” said D’Epernon, “as long as we guard him, there is no need of going to look at him.”

“And he is not handsome to look at,” said Quelus.

“Still,” said Schomberg, “I think we had better not relax our vigilance, for the devil is cunning.”

“Yes, but not cunning enough to pass over the bodies of four men like us.”

“That is true,” said Quelus.

“Oh!” said Schomberg, “do you think, if he wants to fly, he will choose our corridor to come through? He would make a hole in the wall.”

“With what?”

“Then he has the windows.”

“Ah! the windows, bravo, Schomberg; would you jump forty-five feet?”

“I confess that forty-five feet ——”

“Yes, and he who is lame, and heavy, and timid as ——”

“You,” said Schomberg.

“You know I fear nothing but phantoms — that is an affair of the nerves.”

“The last phantom was,” said Quelus, “that all those whom he had killed in duels appeared to him one night.”

“However,” said Maugiron, “I have read of wonderful escapes; with sheets, for instance.”

“Ah! that is more sensible. I saw myself, at Bordeaux, a prisoner who escaped by the aid of his sheets.”

“You see, then?”

“Yes, but he had his leg broken, and his neck, too; his sheets were thirty feet too short, and he had to jump, so that while his body escaped from prison, his soul escaped from his body.”

“Besides,” said Quelus, “if he escapes, we will follow him, and in catching him some mischief might happen to him.”

So they dismissed the subject. They were perfectly right that the duke was not likely to attempt a perilous escape. From time to time h............