in, and was greatly enraged: throwing away the
remaining contents of the basin. The maid was
terribly ill for two days after that. At another
time, Angélique had sent her to Cattelain's
with a sealed letter, on receipt of which the
man had delivered her a bottle which was the
one now produced. It had been full when she
gave it to her mistress; now it was empty.
Cattelain had said to her, "Be discreet, and you
do not know what a great lady you yet may be.
Some day, soon, that old fox Tiquet will die,
and I shall marry madame. We shall find
you a good husband with money." She had
believed him to be jesting, and had laughed; on
which he had seemed angry, and told her to
make haste home.

When she gave the bottle to her mistress, the
latter had kissed it, and said, "I have herewith
to punish all my enemies and make myself free.
Have a care that you do not offend me." The
girl had then asked her mistress what the phial
contained? On which she replied, "Enough to
prevent half a dozen men from ever feeling a
headache again. Something to cure Monsieur
Tiquet's asthma and jealousy, at one draught."
This had occurred five days ago. She said she
had been afraid to tell, although she knew that it
was poison which Cattelain had sent. On the
day after the scene above described, she said to
her mistress that she thought she must tell some
one of what she knew, for it lay heavy on her
conscience; on which Angélique had made her
swear to keep it secret: telling her that if she
did not do so, she should have some of the
poison herself: and that if she told, she would
bring punishment on her own head, for she was
now in the eyes of the law as criminal as
herself. This, she said, had kept her silent. On
her deposition, Cattelain was arrested. In his
house were found poisons of various kinds. In
one bottle, from which she said he had poured
what he had given her, was a preparation of
arsenic and aconite, which the physician who
attended the president declared to be the
same that was contained in the carafe of night
drink. The girl was asked whether she believed
Monsieur Mongeorge to be cognisant of
Madame Tiquet's intentions? She averred that
he was not; on the contrary, madame had told
her that if Monsieur Mongeorge knew, he
would cast her off, much as he loved her. As
for Cattelain, he firmly denied all the accusations,
and then relapsed into a dogged sullenness,
from which nothing roused him.

Angélique, who quite recovered her audacity
and self-possession, resisted all entreaties to
confess her crime, avowing that nothing should
induce her falsely to condemn herself, and cast
a stigma on her child. She declared that the
whole charge was a conspiracy between Servin
and her maid, who had an intrigue together;
that Servin had ruled his master before
marriage, was jealous of her influence, and had
taken this method of getting rid of her. The
torture by water was applied to her, but she
bore its agony with firmness. In the same
chamber, Cattelain was stretched on the rack,
and for some time bore the torture without
flinching; but as greater force was applied, he
yelled, and made a full confession. He avowed
that madame had promised to marry him when
her husband should be dead, and that as he
himself was jealous of Mongeorge, he had meant to
poison that person, as soon as he could find an
opportunity.

It was plain that Mongeorge, who had been
arrested, was only guilty in his love for
Angélique, and he was at once set free. He
immediately repaired to the Hôtel Tiquet, and
enforced admittance to the president, who was
restored to his senses, though prostrate with
shame and grief. To him, Mongeorge confessed
that he loved Angélique, and swore never again
to see her if her husband would aid him to
endeavour to procure her pardon. The
president agreed. His passion for his wicked wife
was strong, and Mongeorge drew up in his
presence a petition, which he signed. Then the
chevalier departed to seek audience of the king,
with whom he was a favourite.

It was of no avail; the king was kind in manner,
but inflexible. The crime of poisoning had
fearfully increased, and he was advised most
urgently, to punish the first poisoner who could
be brought to justice. Moreover, Mongeorge's
relatives, who were of great consideration,
having learnt that the chevalier was about to intercede
for Angélique, had been beforehand with
him, and had besought that the law might be
enforced. Pitying the young man's despair, the
king again sent him from Paris, that he might
not be in the way, to witness Angélique's trial
and execution. Perforce, Mongeorge departed;
but, in a few days, an old man, emaciated almost
to a skeleton, his hair white, his limbs tottering,
and supported by a grey-haired valet, demanded
audience of the king. The petitioner held by
one hand a lovely little girl, and, on being
presented to the king, knelt, and made his little
daughter, kneeling also, join her tiny hands in
supplication for her mother's life. The king
raised him and embraced the child, but assured
him that pardon was hopeless.

The day of trial came. The most untroubled
innocence could not have displayed an eye more
cloudless, a brow more unruffled, than
Angélique's. Her matchless tresses were fully
displayed, being arranged in clusters of heavy long
curls, crowned with a chaplet of white roses.
Her robe of pure white was confined at the waist
by a cincture of turquoises and diamonds.
Madame de Remonet, who had escaped on the
first alarm of her niece's detection, had been
apprehended, and Angélique knew nothing of
this until she saw her aunt led into court, a
prisoner like herself. Cattelain, who was carried
in to give his evidence, fired when he saw the
elder prisoner, and declared that it was she
who had taught him to prepare the poisons,
and who had counselled her niece to administer
them. Sentence of death was passed on all
three. The waiting-maid was pardoned in
consideration of her voluntary confession, but
condemned to retire for life to the convent of St.