Thus much I told Madame de Chevreuse, but her answer cheered me, and said much for my late cousin's prudence.
"Nay," she cried. "Marion was ever shrewd. Knowing that men who live by the sword, as you have lived, are often wont to die by the sword,--and that suddenly at times,--he has made provision that in the event of your being dead his estates shall come to me, who have been the most indulgent of his relatives. This, my dear Gaston, has already taken place, for we believed you dead; and therein fortune has been kind to you, for now, while receiving the revenues of your lands--which the world will look upon as mine--I shall contrive that they reach you wherever you may be, until such a time as you may elect to come to life again."
Now but for the respect in which I held her, I could have taken the pretty Duchesse in my arms and kissed her.
Restraining myself, however, I contented myself by kissing her hand, and told her of the journey I was going, then craved another boon of her. No matter what the issue of that journey, and whether I went alone or accompanied, I was determined to quit France and repair to Spain. There I would abide until the Parliament, the Court, or the knife of some chance assassin, or even Nature herself should strip Mazarin of his power.
Now, at the Court of Spain it was well known that my aunt's influence was vast, and so, the boon I craved was that she should aid me to a position in the Spanish service that would allow me during my exile to find occupation and perchance renown. To this my aunt most graciously acceded, and when at length I took my leave--with such gratitude in my heart that what words I could think of seemed but clumsily to express it--I bore in the breast of my doublet a letter to Don Juan de Cordova--a noble of great prominence at the Spanish Court--and in the pocket of my haut-de-chausses a rouleau of two hundred gold pistoles, as welcome as they were heavy.