“Yes, monseigneur; but these suspicions appeared to be disagreeable to Monsieur the Commissary, and I no longer have them.”
“Your wife has escaped. Did you know that?”
“No, monseigneur. I learned it since I have been in prison, and that from the conversation of Monsieur the Commissary—an amiable man.”
The cardinal repressed another smile.
“Then you are ignorant of what has become of your wife since her flight.”
“Absolutely, monseigneur; but she has most likely returned to the Louvre.”
“At one o’clock this morning she had not returned.”
“My God! What can have become of her, then?”
“We shall know, be assured. Nothing is concealed from the cardinal; the cardinal knows everything.”
“In that case, monseigneur, do you believe the cardinal will be so kind as to tell me what has become of my wife?”
“Perhaps he may; but you must, in the first place, reveal to the cardinal all you know of your wife’s relations with Madame de Chevreuse.”
“But, monseigneur, I know nothing about them; I have never seen her.”
“When you went to fetch your wife from the Louvre, did you always return directly home?”