TEN YEARS LATER

by Alexandre Dumas

THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 

Volume I. 

CHAPTER 1. The Letter. 

Towards the middle of the month of May, in the year 1660, at nineo'clock in the morning, when the sun, already high in the heavens, wasfast absorbing the dew from the ramparts of the castle of Blois a littlecavalcade, composed of three men and two pages, re-entered the city bythe bridge, without producing any other effect upon the passengers ofthe quay beyond a first movement of the hand to the head, as a salute, and a second movement of the tongue to express, in the purest Frenchthen spoken in France: "There is Monsieur returning from hunting. " Andthat was all. 

Whilst, however, the horses were climbing the steep acclivity whichleads from the river to the castle, several shop-boys approached thelast horse, from whose saddle-bow a number of birds were suspended bythe beak. 

On seeing this, the inquisitive youths manifested with rustic freedomtheir contempt for such paltry sport, and, after a dissertation amongthemselves upon the disadvantages of hawking, they returned to theiroccupations; one only of the curious party, a stout, stubby, cheerfullad, having demanded how it was that Monsieur, who, from his greatrevenues, had it in his power to amuse himself so much better, could besatisfied with such mean diversions. 

"Do you not know, " one of the standers-by replied, "that Monsieur'sprincipal amusement is to weary himself?"

The light-hearted boy shrugged his shoulders with a gesture which saidas clear as day: "In that case I would rather be plain Jack than aprince. " And all resumed their labors. 

In the meanwhile, Monsieur continued his route with an air at once somelancholy and so majestic, that he certainly would have attracted theattention of spectators, if spectators there had been; but the goodcitizens of Blois could not pardon Monsieur for having chosen their gaycity for an abode in which to indulge melancholy at his ease, and asoften as they caught a glimpse of the illustrious ennuye, they stoleaway gaping, or drew back their heads into the interior of theirdwellings, to escape the soporific influence of that long pale face, ofthose watery eyes, and that languid address; so that the worthy princewas almost certain to find the streets deserted whenever he chanced topass through them. 

Now, on the part of the citizens of Blois this was a culpable piece ofdisrespect, for Monsieur was, after the king--nay, even, perhaps beforethe king--the greatest noble of the kingdom. In fact, God, who hadgranted to Louis XIV. , then reigning, the honor of being son of LouisXIII. , had granted to Monsieur the honor of being son of Henry IV. Itwas not then, or, at least it ought not to have been, a trifling sourceof pride for the city of Blois, that Gaston of Orleans had chosen it ashis residence, and he his court in the ancient castle of its states. 

But it was the destiny of this great prince to excite the attention andadmiration of the public in a very modified degree wherever he might be. Monsieur had fallen into this situation by habit. 

It was not, perhaps, this which gave him that air of listlessness. Monsieur had been tolerably busy in the course of his life. A man cannotallow the heads of a dozen of his best friends to be cut off withoutfeeling a little excitement, and as, since the accession of Mazarin topower, no heads had been cut off, Monsieur's occupation was gone, andhis morale suffered from it. 

The life of the poor prince was, then, very dull. After his littlemorning hawking-party on the banks of the Beuvion, or in the woods ofChiverny, Monsieur crossed the Loire, went to breakfast at Chambord, with or without an appetite and the city of Blois heard no more of itssovereign lord and master till the next hawking-day. 

So much for the ennui extra muros; of the ennui of the interior we willgive the reader an idea if he will with us follow the cavalcade to themajestic porch of the castle of the states. 

Monsieur rode a little steady-paced horse, equipped with a large saddleof red Flemish velvet, with stirrups in the shape of buskins; the horsewas of a bay color; Monsieur's pourpoint of crimson velvet correspondedwith the cloak of the same shade and the horse's equipment, and it wasonly by this red appearance of the whole that the prince could be knownfrom his two companions, the one dressed in violet, the other in green. He on the left, in violet, was his equerry; he on the right, in green, was the grand veneur. 

One of the pages carried two gerfalcons upon a perch, the other ahunting-horn, which he blew with a careless note at twenty paces fromthe castle. Every one about this listless prince did what he had to dolistlessly. 

At this signal, eight guards, who were lounging in the sun in the squarecourt, ran to their halberts, and Monsieur made his solemn entry intothe castle. 

When he had disappeared under the shades of the porch, three or fouridlers, who had followed the cavalcade to the castle, after pointingout the suspended birds to each other, dispersed with comments upon whatthey saw: and, when they were gone, the street, the place, and the courtall remained deserted alike. 

Monsieur dismounted without speaking a word, went straight to hisapartments, where his valet changed his dress, and as Madame had notyet sent orders respecting breakfast, Monsieur stretched himself upona chaise longue, and was soon as fast asleep as if it had been eleveno'clock at night. 

The eight guards, who concluded their service for the day was over, laidthemselves down very comfortably in the sun upon some stone benches;the grooms disappeared with their horses into the stables, and, with theexception of a few joyous birds, startling each other with their sharpchirping in the tufted shrubberies, it might have been thought that thewhole castle was as soundly asleep as Monsieur was. 

All at once, in the midst of this delicious silence, there resoundeda clear ringing laugh, which caused several of the halberdiers in theenjoyment of their siesta to open at least one eye. 

This burst of laughter proceeded from a window of the castle, visitedat this moment by the sun, that embraced it in one of those largeangles which the profiles of the chimneys mark out upon the walls beforemid-day. 

The little balcony of wrought iron which advanced in front of thiswindow was furnished with a pot of red gilliflowers, another pot ofprimroses, and an early rose-tree, the foliage of which, beautifullygreen, was variegated with numerous red specks announcing future roses. 

In the chamber lighted by this window was a square table, covered withan old large-flowered Haarlem tapestry; in the center of this tablewas a long-necked stone bottle, in which were irises and lilies of thevalley; at each end of this table was a young girl. 

The position of these two young people was singular; they might havebeen taken for two boarders escaped from a convent. One of them, withboth elbows on the table, and a pen in her hand, was tracing charactersupon a sheet of fine Dutch paper; the other, kneeling upon a chair, which allowed her to advance her head and bust over the back of it tothe middle of the table, was watching her companion as she wrote, orrather hesitated to write. 

Thence the thousand cries, the thousand railleries, the thousand laughs, one of which, more brilliant than the rest, had startled the birds inthe gardens, and disturbed the slumbers of Monsieur's guards. 

We are taking portraits now; we shall be allowed, therefore, we hope, tosketch the two last of this chapter. 

The one who was leaning in the chair--that is to say, the joyous, thelaughing one--was a beautiful girl of from eighteen to twenty, withbrown complexion and brown hair, splendid, from eyes which sparkledbeneath strongly-marked brows, and particularly from her teeth, whichseemed to shine like pearls between her red coral lips. Her everymovement seemed the accent of a sunny nature, she did not walk--shebounded. 

The other, she who was writing, looked at her turbulent companion withan eye as limpid, as pure, and as blue as the azure of the day. Herhair, of a shaded fairness, arranged with exquisite taste, fell in silkycurls over her lovely mantling cheeks; she passed across the paper adelicate hand, whose thinness announced her extreme youth. At each burstof laughter that proceeded from her friend, she raised, as if annoyed, her white shoulders in a poetical and mild manner, but they were wantingin that richfulness of mold which was likewise to be wished in her armsand hands. 

"Montalais! Montalais!" said she at length, in a voice soft andcaressing as a melody, "you laugh too loud--you laugh like a man! Youwill not only draw the attention of messieurs the guards, but you willnot hear Madame's bell when Madame rings. "

This admonition neither made the young girl called Montalais cease tolaugh and gesticulate. She only replied: "Louise, you do not speak asyou think, my dear; you know that messieurs the guards, as you callthem, have only just commenced their sleep, and that a cannon would notwaken them; you know that Madame's bell can be heard at the bridgeof Blois, and that consequently I shall hear it when my services arerequired by Madame. What annoys you, my child, is that I laugh while youare writing; and what you are afraid of is that Madame de Saint-Remy, your mother, should come up here, as she does sometimes when we laughtoo loud, that she should surprise us, and that she should see thatenormous sheet of paper upon which, in a quarter of an hour, you haveonly traced the words Monsieur Raoul. Now, you are right, my dearLouise, because after these words, 'Monsieur Raoul, ' others may be putso significant and so incendiary as to cause Madame de Saint-Remy toburst out into fire and flames! Hein! is not that true now?--say. "

And Montalais redoubled her laughter and noisy provocations. 

The fair girl at length became quite angry; she tore the sheet of paperon which, in fact, the words "Monsieur Raoul" were written in goodcharacters, and crushing the paper in her trembling hands, she threw itout of the window. 

"There! there!" said Mademoiselle de Montalais; "there is our littlelamb, our gentle dove, angry! Don't be afraid, Louise--Madame deSaint-Remy will not come; and if she should, you know I have a quickear. Besides, what can be more permissible than to write to an oldfriend of twelve years' standing, particularly when the letter beginswith the words 'Monsieur Raoul'?"

"It is all very well--I will not write to him at all, " said the younggirl. 

"Ah, ah! in good sooth, Montalais is properly punished, " cried thejeering brunette, still laughing. "Come, come! let us try another sheetof paper, and finish our dispatch off-hand. Good! there is the bellringing now. By my faith, so much the worse! Madame must wait, or elsedo without her first maid of honor this morning. "

A bell, in fact, did ring; it announced that Madame had finished hertoilette, and waited for Monsieur to give her his hand, and conduct herfrom the salon to the refectory. 

This formality being accomplished with great ceremony, the husband andwife breakfasted, and then separated till the hour of dinner, invariablyfixed at two o'clock. 

The sound of this bell caused a door to be opened in the offices on theleft hand of the court, from which filed two maitres d'hotel followed byeight scullions bearing a kind of hand-barrow loaded with dishes undersilver covers. 

One of the maitres d'hotel, the first in rank, touched one of theguards, who was snoring on his bench, slightly with his wand; he evencarried his kindness so far as to place the halbert which stood againstthe wall in the hands of the man stupid with sleep, after which thesoldier, without explanation, escorted the viande of Monsieur to therefectory, preceded by a page and the two maitres d'hotel. 

Wherever the viande passed, the soldiers ported arms. 

Mademoiselle de Montalais and her companion had watched from theirwindow the details of this ceremony, to which, by the bye, they musthave been pretty well accustomed. But they did not look so much fromcuriosity as to be assured they should not be disturbed. So guards, scullions, maitres d'hotel, and pages having passed, they resumed theirplaces at the table; and the sun, which, through the window-frame, hadfor an instant fallen upon those two charming countenances, now onlyshed its light upon the gilliflowers, primroses, and rosetree. 

"Bah!" said Mademoiselle de Montalais, taking her place again; "Madamewill breakfast very well without me!"

"Oh! Montalais, you will be punished!" replied the other girl, sittingdown quietly in hers. 

"Punished, indeed!--that is to say, deprived of a ride! That is justthe way in which I wish to be punished. To go out in the grand coach, perched upon a doorstep; to turn to the left, twist round to the right, over roads full of ruts, where we cannot exceed a league in two hours;and then to come back straight towards the wing of the castle in whichis the window of Mary de Medici, so that Madame never fails to say:'Could one believe it possible that Mary de Medici should have escapedfrom that window--forty-seven feet high? The mother of two princes andthree princesses!' If you call that relaxation, Louise, all I ask is tobe punished every day; particularly when my punishment is to remain withyou and write such interesting letters as we write!"

"Montalais! Montalais! there are duties to be performed. "

"You talk of them very much at your ease, dear child!--you, who are leftquite free amidst this tedious court. You are the only person that reapsthe advantages of them without incurring the trouble, --you, who arereally more one of Madame's maids of honor than I am, because Madamemakes her affection for your father-in-law glance off upon you; so thatyou enter this dull house as the birds fly into yonder court, inhalingthe air, pecking the flowers, picking up the grain, without having theleast service to perform, or the least annoyance to undergo. And youtalk to me of duties to be performed! In sooth, my pretty idler, whatare your own proper duties, unless to write to the handsome Raoul? Andeven that you don't do; so that it looks to me as if you likewise wererather negligent of your duties!"

Louise assumed a serious air, leant her chin upon her hand, and, in atone full of candid remonstrance, "And do you reproach me with my goodfortune?" said she. "Can you have the heart to do it? You have a future;you belong to the court; the king, if he should marry, will requireMonsieur to be near his person; you will see splendid fetes; you willsee the king, who they say is so handsome, so agreeable!"

"Ay, and still more, I shall see Raoul, who attends upon M. Le Prince, "added Montalais, maliciously. 

"Poor Raoul!" sighed Louise. 

"Now is the time to write to him, my pretty dear! Come, begin again, with that famous 'Monsieur Raoul' which figures at the top of the poortorn sheet. "

She then held the pen toward her, and with a charming smile encouragedher hand, which quickly traced the words she named. 

"What next?" asked the younger of the two girls. 

"Why, now write what you think, Louise, " replied Montalais. 

"Are you quite sure I think of anything?"

"You think of somebody, and that amounts to the same thing, or rathereven more. "

"Do you think so, Montalais?"

"Louise, Louise, your blue eyes are as deep as the sea I saw at Boulognelast year! No, no, I mistake--the sea is perfidious: your eyes are asdeep as the azure yonder--look!--over our heads!"

"Well, since you can read so well in my eyes, tell me what I am thinkingabout, Montalais. "

"In the first place, you don't think Monsieur Raoul; you think My dearRaoul. "

"Oh!----"

"Never blush for such a trifle as that! 'My dear Raoul, ' we willsay--'You implore me to write to you at Paris, where you are detained byyour attendance on M. Le Prince. As you must be very dull there, to seekfor amusement in the remembrance of a provinciale----'"

Louise rose up suddenly. "No, Montalais, " said she, with a smile; "Idon't think a word of that. Look, this is what I think;" and she seizedthe pen boldly and traced, with a firm hand, the following words:--

"I should have been very unhappy if your entreaties to obtain aremembrance of me had been less warm. Everything here reminds me of ourearly days, which so quickly passed away, which so delightfully flew by, that no others will ever replace the charm of them in my heart. "

Montalais, who watched the flying pen, and read, the wrong way upwards, as fast as her friend wrote, here interrupted by clapping her hands. "Capital!" cried she; "there is frankness--there is heart--there isstyle! Show these Parisians, my dear, that Blois is the city for finelanguage!"

"He knows very well that Blois was a Paradise to me, " replied the girl. 

"That is exactly what you mean to say; and you speak like an angel. "

"I will finish, Montalais, " and she continued as follows: "You oftenthink of me, you say, Monsieur Raoul: I thank you; but that does notsurprise me, when I recollect how often our hearts have beaten close toeach other. "

"Oh! oh!" said Montalais. "Beware; my lamb! You are scattering yourwool, and there are wolves about. "

Louise was about to reply, when the gallop of a horse resounded underthe porch of the castle. 

"What is that?" said Montalais, approaching the window. "A handsomecavalier, by my faith!"

"Oh!--Raoul!" exclaimed Louise, who had made the same movement as herfriend, and, becoming pale as death, sunk back beside her unfinishedletter. 

"Now, he is a clever lover, upon my word!" cried Montalais; "he arrivesjust at the proper moment. "

"Come in, come in, I implore you!" murmured Louise. 

"Bah! he does not know me. Let me see what he has come here for. "

CHAPTER 2. The Messenger. 

Mademoiselle de Montalais was right; the young cavalier was goodly tolook upon. 

He was a young man of from twenty-four to twenty-five years of age, talland slender, wearing gracefully the picturesque military costume of theperiod. His large boots contained a foot which Mademoiselle de Montalaismight not have disowned if she had been transformed into a man. With oneof his delicate but nervous hands he checked his horse in the middle ofthe court, and with the other raised his hat, whose long plumes shadedhis at once serious and ingenuous countenance. 

The guards, roused by the steps of the horse, awoke and were on footin a minute. The young man waited till one of them was close to hissaddle-bow: then stooping towards him, in a clear, distinct voice, whichwas perfectly audible at the window where the two girls were concealed, "A message for his royal highness, " he said. 

"Ah, ah!" cried the soldier. "Officer, a messenger!"

But this brave guard knew very well that no officer would appear, seeingthat the only one who could have appeared dwelt at the other side of thecastle, in an apartment looking into the gardens. So he hastened toadd: "The officer, monsieur, is on his rounds, but in his absence, M. DeSaint-Remy, the maitre d'hotel shall be informed. "

"M. De Saint-Remy?" repeated the cavalier, slightly blushing. 

"Do you know him?"

"Why, yes; but request him, if you please, that my visit be announced tohis royal highness as soon as possible. "

"It appears to be pressing, " said the guard, as if speaking to himself, but really in the hope of obtaining an answer. 

The messenger made an affirmative sign with his head. 

"In that case, " said the guard, "I will go and seek the maitre d'hotelmyself. "

The young man, in the meantime, dismounted; and whilst the others weremaking their remarks upon the fine horse the cavalier rode, the soldierreturned. 

"Your pardon, young gentleman; but your name, if you please?"

"The Vicomte de Bragelonne, on the part of his highness M. Le Prince deConde. "

The soldier made a profound bow, and, as if the name of the conquerorof Rocroy and Sens had given him wings, he stepped lightly up the stepsleading to the ante-chamber. 

M. De Bragelonne had not had time to fasten his horse to the ironbars of the perron, when M. De Saint-Remy came running, out of breath, supporting his capacious body with one hand, whilst with the other hecut the air as a fisherman cleaves the waves with his oar. 

"Ah, Monsieur le Vicomte! You at Blois!" cried he. "Well, that is awonder. Good-day to you--good-day, Monsieur Raoul. "

"I offer you a thousand respects, M. De Saint-Remy. "

"How Madame de la Vall--I mean, how delighted Madame de Saint-Remy willbe to see you! But come in. His royal highness is at breakfast--must hebe interrupted? Is the matter serious?"

"Yes, and no, Monsieur de Saint-Remy. A moment's delay, however, wouldbe disagreeable to his royal highness. "

"If that is the case, we will force the consigne, Monsieur le Vicomte. Come in. Besides, Monsieur is in an excellent humor to-day. And then youbring news, do you not?"

"Great news, Monsieur de Saint-Remy. "

"And good, I presume?"

"Excellent. "

"Come quickly, come quickly then!" cried the worthy man, putting hisdress to rights as he went along. 

Raoul followed him, hat in hand, and a little disconcerted at the noisemade by his spurs in these immense salons. 

As soon as he had disappeared in the interior of the palace, the windowof the court was repeopled, and an animated whispering betrayedthe emotion of the two girls. They soon appeared to have formed aresolution, for one of the two faces disappeared from the window. Thiswas the brunette; the other remained behind the balcony, concealed bythe flowers, watching attentively through the branches the perron bywhich M. De Bragelonne had entered the castle. 

In the meantime the object of so much laudable curiosity continued hisroute, following the steps of the maitre d'hotel. The noise of quicksteps, an odor of wine and viands, a clinking of crystal and plates, warned them that they were coming to the end of their course. 

The pages, valets and officers, assembled in the office which led up tothe refectory, welcomed the newcomer with the proverbial politeness ofthe country; some of them were acquainted with Raoul, and all knewthat he came from Paris. It might be said that his arrival for a momentsuspended the service. In fact, a page, who was pouring out wine for hisroyal highness, on hearing the jingling of spurs in the next chamber, turned round like a child, without perceiving that he was continuing topour out, not into the glass, but upon the tablecloth. 

Madame, who was not so preoccupied as her glorious spouse was, remarkedthis distraction of the page. 

"Well?" exclaimed she. 

"Well!" repeated Monsieur; "what is going on then?"

M. De Saint-Remy, who had just introduced his head through the doorway, took advantage of the moment. 

"Why am I to be disturbed?" said Gaston, helping himself to a thickslice of one of the largest salmon that had ever ascended the Loire tobe captured between Painboeuf and Saint-Nazaire. 

"There is a messenger from Paris. Oh! but after monseigneur hasbreakfasted will do; there is plenty of time. "

"From Paris!" cried the prince, letting his fork fall. "A messenger fromParis, do you say? And on whose part does this messenger come?"

"On the part of M. Le Prince, " said the maitre d'hotel promptly. 

Every one knows that the Prince de Conde was so called. 

"A messenger from M. Le Prince!" said Gaston, with an inquietude thatescaped none of the assistants, and consequently redoubled the generalcuriosity. 

Monsieur, perhaps, fancied himself brought back again to the happy timeswhen the opening of a door gave him an emotion, in which every lettermight contain a state secret, --in which every message was connected witha dark and complicated intrigue. Perhaps, likewise, that great nameof M. Le Prince expanded itself, beneath the roofs of Blois, to theproportions of a phantom. 

Monsieur pushed away his plate. 

"Shall I tell the envoy to wait?" asked M. De Saint-Remy. 

A glance from Madame emboldened Gaston, who replied: "No, no! let himcome in at once, on the contrary. A propos, who is he?"

"A gentleman of this country, M. Le Vicomte de Bragelonne. "

"Ah, very well! Introduce him, Saint-Remy--introduce him. "

And when he had let fall these words, with his accustomed gravity, Monsieur turned his eyes, in a certain manner, upon the people of hissuite, so that all, pages, officers, and equerries, quitted the service, knives and goblets, and made towards the second chamber a retreat asrapid as it was disorderly. 

This little army had dispersed in two files when Raoul de Bragelonne, preceded by M. De Saint-Remy, entered the refectory. 

The short interval of solitude which this retreat had left him, permitted Monsieur the time to assume a diplomatic countenance. He didnot turn round, but waited till the maitre d'hotel should bring themessenger face to face with him. 

Raoul stopped even with the lower end of the table, so as to be exactlybetween Monsieur and Madame. From this place he made a profound bow toMonsieur and a very humble one to Madame; then, drawing himself up intomilitary pose, he waited for Monsieur to address him. 

On his part the Prince waited till the doors were hermetically closed;he would not turn round to ascertain the fact, as that would have beenderogatory to his dignity, but he listened with all his ears for thenoise of the lock, which would promise him at least an appearance ofsecrecy. 

The doors being closed, Monsieur raised his eyes towards the vicomte, and said, "It appears that you come from Paris, monsieur?"

"This minute, monseigneur. "

"How is the king?"

"His majesty is in perfect health, monseigneur. "

"And my sister-in-law?"

"Her majesty the queen-mother still suffers from the complaint in herchest, but for the last month she has been rather better. "

"Somebody told me you came on the part of M. Le Prince. They must havebeen mistaken, surely?"

"No, monseigneur; M. Le Prince has charged me to convey this letter toyour royal highness, and I am to wait for an answer to it. "

Raoul had been a little annoyed by this cold and cautious reception, andhis voice insensibly sank to a low key. 

The prince forgot that he was the cause of this apparent mystery, andhis fears returned. 

He received the letter from the Prince de Conde with a haggard look, unsealed it as he would have unsealed a suspicious packet, and in orderto read it so that no one should remark the effects of it upon hiscountenance, he turned round. 

Madame followed, with an anxiety almost equal to that of the prince, every maneuver of her august husband. 

Raoul, impassible, and a little disengaged by the attention of hishosts, looked from his place through the open window at the gardens andthe statues which peopled them. 

"Well!" cried Monsieur, all at once, with a cheerful smile; "here isan agreeable surprise, and a charming letter from M. Le Prince. Look, Madame!"

The table was too large to allow the arm of the prince to reach the handof Madame; Raoul sprang forward to be their intermediary, and did itwith so good a grace as to procure a flattering acknowledgment from theprincess. 

"You know the contents of this letter, no doubt?" said Gaston to Raoul. 

"Yes, monseigneur; M. Le Prince at first gave me the message verbally, but upon reflection his highness took up his pen. "

"It is beautiful writing, " said Madame, "but I cannot read it. "

"Will you read it to Madame, M. De Bragelonne?" said the duke. 

"Yes, read it, if you please, monsieur. "

Raoul began to read, Monsieur giving again all his attention. The letterwas conceived in these terms:

"Monseigneur--The king is about to set out for the frontiers. You areaware that the marriage of his majesty is concluded upon. The king hasdone me the honor to appoint me his marechal-des-logis for this journey, and as I knew with what joy his majesty would pass a day at Blois, Iventure to ask your royal highness's permission to mark the house youinhabit as our quarters. If, however, the suddenness of this requestshould create to your royal highness any embarrassment, I entreat you tosay so by the messenger I send, a gentleman of my suite, M. Le Vicomtede Bragelonne. My itinerary will depend upon your royal highness'sdetermination, and instead of passing through Blois, we shall comethrough Vendome and Romorantin. I venture to hope that your royalhighness will be pleased with my arrangement, it being the expression ofmy boundless desire to make myself agreeable to you. "

"Nothing can be more gracious toward us, " said Madame, who had morethan once consulted the looks of her husband during the reading of theletter. "The king here!" exclaimed she, in a rather louder tone thanwould have been necessary to preserve secrecy. 

"Monsieur, " said his royal highness in his turn, "you will offer mythanks to M. De Conde, and express to him my gratitude for the honor hehas done me. "

Raoul bowed. 

"On what day will his majesty arrive?" continued the prince. 

"The king, monseigneur, will in all probability arrive this evening. "

"But how, then, could he have known my reply if it had been in thenegative?"

"I was desired, monseigneur, to return in all haste to Beaugency, to give counter-orders to the courier, who was himself to go backimmediately with counter-orders to M. Le Prince. "

"His majesty is at Orleans, then?"

"Much nearer, monseigneur; his majesty must by this time have arrived atMeung. "

"Does the court accompany him?"

"Yes, monseigneur. "

"A propos, I forgot to ask you after M. Le Cardinal. "

"His eminence appears to enjoy good health, monseigneur. "

"His nieces accompany him, no doubt?"

"No, monseigneur, his eminence has ordered the Mesdemoiselles de Mancinito set out for Brouage. They will follow the left bank of the Loire, while the court will come by the right. "

"What! Mademoiselle Mary de Mancini quit the court in that manner?"asked Monsieur, his reserve beginning to diminish. 

"Mademoiselle Mary de Mancini in particular, " replied Raoul discreetly. 

A fugitive smile, an imperceptible vestige of his ancient spirit ofintrigue, shot across the pale face of the prince. 

"Thanks, M. De Bragelonne, " then said Monsieur. "You would, perhaps, not be willing to carry M. Le Prince the commission with which I wouldcharge you, and that is, that his messenger has been very agreeable tome; but I will tell him so myself. "

Raoul bowed his thanks to Monsieur for the honor he had done him. 

Monsieur made a sign to Madame, who struck a bell which was placed ather right hand; M. De Saint-Remy entered, and the room was soon filledwith people. 

"Messieurs, " said the prince, "his majesty is about to pay me the honorof passing a day at Blois; I depend upon the king, my nephew, not havingto repent of the favor he does my house. "

"Vive le Roi!" cried all the officers of the household with franticenthusiasm, and M. De Saint-Remy louder than the rest. 

Gaston hung down his head with evident chagrin. He had all his life beenobliged to hear, or rather to undergo this cry of "Vive le Roi!" whichpassed over him. For a long time, being unaccustomed to hear it, hisear had had rest, and now a younger, more vivacious, and more brilliantroyalty rose up before him, like a new and more painful provocation. 

Madame perfectly understood the sufferings of that timid, gloomy heart;she rose from the table, Monsieur imitated her mechanically, and allthe domestics, with a buzzing like that of several bee-hives, surroundedRaoul for the purpose of questioning him. 

Madame saw this movement, and called M. De Saint Remy. "This is not thetime for gossiping, but working, " said she, with the tone of an angryhousekeeper. 

M. De Saint-Remy hastened to break the circle formed by the officersround Raoul, so that the latter was able to gain the ante-chamber. 

"Care will be taken of that gentleman, I hope, " added Madame, addressingM. De Saint-Remy. 

The worthy man immediately hastened after Raoul. "Madame desiresrefreshments to be offered to you, " said he; "and there is, besides, alodging for you in the castle. "

"Thanks, M. De Saint-Remy, " replied Raoul; "but you know how anxious Imust be to pay my duty to M. Le Comte, my father. "

"That is true, that is true, Monsieur Raoul; present him, at the sametime, my humble respects, if you please. "

Raoul thus once more got rid of the old gentleman, and pursued his way. As he was passing under the porch, leading his horse by the bridle, asoft voice called him from the depths of an obscure path. 

"Monsieur Raoul!" said the voice. 

The young man turned round, surprised, and saw a dark complexioned girl, who, with a finger on her lip, held out her other hand to him. Thisyoung lady was an utter stranger. 

CHAPTER 3. The Interview. 

Raoul made one step towards the girl who thus called him. 

"But my horse, madame?" said he. 

"Oh! you are terribly embarrassed! Go yonder way--there is a shed in theouter court: fasten your horse, and return quickly!"

"I obey, madame. "

Raoul was not four minutes in performing what he had been directed todo; he returned to the little door, where, in the gloom, he found hismysterious conductress waiting for him, on the first steps of a windingstaircase. 

"Are you brave enough to follow me, monsieur knight errant?" asked thegirl, laughing at the momentary hesitation Raoul had manifested. 

The latter replied by springing up the dark staircase after her. Theythus climbed up three stories, he behind her, touching with his hands, when he felt for the banister, a silk dress which rubbed againsteach side of the staircase. At every false step made by Raoul, hisconductress cried, "Hush!" and held out to him a soft and perfumed hand. 

"One would mount thus to the belfry of the castle without beingconscious of fatigue, " said Raoul. 

"All of which means, monsieur, that you are very much perplexed, verytired, and very uneasy. But be of good cheer, monsieur; here we are, atour destination. "

The girl threw open a door, which immediately, without any transition, filled with a flood of light the landing of the staircase, at the top ofwhich Raoul appeared, holding fast by the balustrade. 

The girl continued to walk on--he followed her; she entered achamber--he did the same. 

As soon as he was fairly in the net he heard a loud cry, and, turninground, saw at two paces from him, with her hands clasped and her eyesclosed, that beautiful fair girl with blue eyes and white shoulders, who, recognizing him, called him Raoul. 

He saw her, and divined at once so much love and so much joy in theexpression of her countenance, that he sank on his knees in the middleof the chamber, murmuring, on his part, the name of Louise. 

"Ah! Montalais--Montalais!" she sighed, "it is very wicked to deceive meso. "

"Who, I? I have deceived you?"

"Yes; you told me you would go down to inquire the news, and you havebrought up monsieur!"

"Well, I was obliged to do so--how else could he have received theletter you wrote him?" And she pointed with her finger to the letterwhich was still upon the table. 

Raoul made a step to take it; Louise, more rapid, although she hadsprung forward with a sufficiently remarkable physical hesitation, reached out her hand to stop him. Raoul came in contact with thattrembling hand, took it within his own, and carried it so respectfullyto his lips, that he might be said to have deposited a sigh upon itrather than a kiss. 

In the meantime Mademoiselle de Montalais had taken the letter, foldedit carefully, as women do, in three folds, and slipped it into herbosom. 

"Don't be afraid, Louise, " said she; "monsieur will no more venture totake it hence than the defunct king Louis XIII. Ventured to take billetsfrom the corsage of Mademoiselle de Hautefort. "

Raoul blushed at seeing the smile of the two girls; and he did notremark that the hand of Louise remained in his. 

"There, " said Montalais, "you have pardoned me, Louise, for havingbrought monsieur to you; and you, monsieur, bear me no malice for havingfollowed me to see mademoiselle. Now, then, peace being made, let uschat like old friends. Present me, Louise, to M. De Bragelonne. "

"Monsieur le Vicomte, " said Louise, with her quiet grace and ingenuoussmile, "I have the honour to present to you Mademoiselle Aure deMontalais, maid of honor to her royal highness Madame, and moreover myfriend--my excellent friend. "

Raoul bowed ceremoniously. 

"And me, Louise, " said he--"will you not present me also tomademoiselle?"

"Oh, she knows you--she knows all!"

This unguarded expression made Montalais laugh and Raoul sigh withhappiness, for he interpreted it thus: "She knows all our love. "

"The ceremonies being over, Monsieur le Vicomte, " said Montalais, "takea chair, and tell us quickly the news you bring flying thus. "

"Mademoiselle, it is no longer a secret; the king, on his way toPoitiers, will stop at Blois, to visit his royal highness. "

"The king here!" exclaimed Montalais, clapping her hands. "What! are wegoing to see the court? Only think, Louise--the real court from Paris!Oh, good heavens! But when will this happen, monsieur?"

"Perhaps this evening, mademoiselle; at latest, tomorrow. "

Montalais lifted her shoulders in sign of vexation. 

"No time to get ready! No time to prepare a single dress! We are as farbehind the fashions as the Poles. We shall look like portraits of thetime of Henry IV. Ah, monsieur! this is sad news you bring us!"

"But, mesdemoiselles, you will be still beautiful!"

"That's no news! Yes, we shall be always beautiful because nature hasmade us passable; but we shall be ridiculous, because the fashion willhave forgotten us. Alas! ridiculous! I shall be thought ridiculous--I!

"And by whom?" said Louise, innocently. 

"By whom? You are a strange girl, my dear. Is that a question to putto me? I mean everybody; I mean the courtiers, the nobles; I mean theking. "

"Pardon me, my good friend, but as here every one is accustomed to seeus as we are----"

"Granted; but that is about to change, and we shall be ridiculous, evenfor Blois; for close to us will be seen the fashions from Paris, andthey will perceive that we are in the fashion of Blois! It is enough tomake one despair!"

"Console yourself, mademoiselle. "

"Well, so let it be! After all, so much the worse for those who do notfind me to their taste!" said Montalais philosophically. 

"They would be very difficult to please, " replied Raoul, faithful to hisregular system of gallantry. 

"Thank you, Monsieur le Vicomte. We were saying, then, that the king iscoming to Blois?"

"With all the court. "

"Mesdemoiselles de Mancini, will they be with them?"

"No, certainly not. "

"But as the king, it is said, cannot do without Mademoiselle Mary?"

"Mademoiselle, the king must do without her. M. Le Cardinal will have itso. He has exiled his nieces to Brouage. "

"He!--the hypocrite!"

"Hush!" said Louise, pressing a finger on her friend's rosy lips. 

"Bah! nobody can hear me. I say that old Mazarino Mazarini is ahypocrite, who burns impatiently to make his niece Queen of France. "

"That cannot be, mademoiselle, since M. Le Cardinal, on the contrary, has brought about the marriage of his majesty with the Infanta MariaTheresa. "

Montalais looked Raoul full in the face, and said, "And do you Parisiansbelieve in these tales? Well! we are a little more knowing than you, atBlois. "

"Mademoiselle, if the king goes beyond Poitiers and sets out for Spain, if the articles of the marriage contract are agreed upon by Don Luis deHaro and his eminence, you must plainly perceive that it is not child'splay. "

"All very fine! but the king is king, I suppose?"

"No doubt, mademoiselle; but the cardinal is the cardinal. "

"The king is not a man, then! And he does not love Mary Mancini?"

"He adores her. "

"Well, he will marry her then. We shall have war with Spain. M. Mazarinwill spend a few of the millions he has put away; our gentlemenwill perform prodigies of valor in their encounters with the proudCastilians, and many of them will return crowned with laurels, to berecrowned by us with myrtles. Now, that is my view of politics. "

"Montalais, you are wild!" said Louise, "and every exaggeration attractsyou as light does a moth. "

"Louise, you are so extremely reasonable, that you will never know howto love. "

"Oh!" said Louise, in a tone of tender reproach, "don't you see, Montalais? The queen-mother desires to marry her son to the Infanta;would you wish him to disobey his mother? Is it for a royal heart likehis to set such a bad example? When parents forbid love, love must bebanished. "

And Louise sighed: Raoul cast down his eyes, with an expression ofconstraint. Montalais, on her part, laughed aloud. 

"Well, I have no parents!" said she. 

"You are acquainted, without doubt, with the state of health of M. LeComte de la Fere?" said Louise, after breathing that sigh which hadrevealed so many griefs in its eloquent utterance. 

"No, mademoiselle, " replied Raoul, "I have not yet paid my respects tomy father; I was going to his house when Mademoiselle de Montalais sokindly stopped me. I hope the comte is well. You have heard nothing tothe contrary, have you?"

"No, M. Raoul--nothing, thank God!"

Here, for several instants, ensued a silence, during which two spirits, which followed the same idea, communicated perfectly, without even theassistance of a single glance. 

"Oh, heavens!" exclaimed Montalais in a fright; "there is somebodycoming up. "

"Who can it be?" said Louise, rising in great agitation. 

"Mesdemoiselles, I inconvenience you very much. I have, without doubt, been very indiscreet, " stammered Raoul, very ill at ease. 

"It is a heavy step, " said Louise. 

"Ah! if it is only M. Malicorne, " added Montalais, "do not disturbyourselves. "

Louise and Raoul looked at each other to inquire who M. Malicorne couldbe. 

"There is no occasion to mind him, " continued Montalais; "he is notjealous. "

"But, mademoiselle--" said Raoul. 

"Yes, I understand. Well, he is as discreet as I am. "

"Good heavens!" cried Louise, who had applied her ear to the door, whichhad been left ajar, "it is my mother's step!"

"Madame de Saint-Remy! Where shall I hide myself?" exclaimed Raoul, catching at the dress of Montalais, who looked quite bewildered. 

"Yes, " said she; "yes, I know the clicking of those pattens! It is ourexcellent mother. M. Le Vicomte, what a pity it is the window looks upona stone pavement, and that fifty paces below it. "

Raoul glanced at the balcony in despair. Louise seized his arm and heldit tight. 

"Oh, how silly I am!" said Montalais, "have I not the robe-of-ceremonycloset? It looks as if it were made on purpose. "

It was quite time to act; Madame de Saint-Remy was coming up at aquicker pace than usual. She gained the landing at the moment whenMontalais, as in all scenes of surprises, shut the closet by leaningwith her back against the door. 

"Ah!" cried Madame de Saint-Remy, "you are here, are you, Louise?"

"Yes, madame, " replied she, more pale than if she had committed a greatcrime. 

"Well, well!"

"Pray be seated, madame, " said Montalais, offering her a chair, whichshe placed so that the back was towards the closet. 

"Thank you, Mademoiselle Aure--thank you. Come my child, be quick. "

"Where do you wish me to go, madame?"

"Why, home, to be sure; have you not to prepare your toilette?"

"What did you say?" cried Montalais, hastening to affect surprise, sofearful was she that Louise would in some way commit herself. 

"You don't know the news, then?" said Madame de Saint-Remy. 

"What news, madame, is it possible for two girls to learn up in thisdove-cote?"

"What! have you seen nobody?"

"Madame, you talk in enigmas, and you torment us at a slow fire!" criedMontalais, who, terrified at seeing Louise become paler and paler, didnot know to what saint to put up her vows. 

At length she caught an eloquent look of her companion's, one of thoselooks which would convey intelligence to a brick wall. Louise directedher attention to a hat--Raoul's unlucky hat, which was set out in allits feathery splendor upon the table. 

Montalais sprang towards it, and, seizing it with her left hand, passedit behind her into the right, concealing it as she was speaking. 

"Well, " said Madame de Saint-Remy, "a courier has arrived, announcingthe approach of the king. There, mesdemoiselles; there is something tomake you put on your best looks. "

"Quick, quick!" cried Montalais. "Follow Madame your mother, Louise; andleave me to get ready my dress of ceremony. "

Louise arose; her mother took her by the hand, and led her out on to thelanding. 

"Come along, " said she; then adding in a low voice, "When I forbid youto come to the apartment of Montalais, why do you do so?"

"Madame, she is my friend. Besides, I had but just come. "

"Did you see nobody concealed while you were there?"

"Madame!"

"I saw a man's hat, I tell you--the hat of that fellow, thatgood-for-nothing!"

"Madame!" repeated Louise. 

"Of that do-nothing De Malicorne! A maid of honor to have suchcompany--fie! fie!" and their voices were lost in the depths of thenarrow staircase. 

Montalais had not missed a word of this conversation, which echoconveyed to her as if through a tunnel. She shrugged her shoulders onseeing Raoul, who had listened likewise, issue from the closet. 

"Poor Montalais!" said she, "the victim of friendship! Poor Malicorne, the victim of love!"

She stopped on viewing the tragic-comic face of Raoul, who was vexed athaving, in one day, surprised so many secrets. 

"Oh, mademoiselle!" said he; "how can we repay your kindness?"

"Oh, we will balance accounts some day, " said she. "For the present, begone, M. De Bragelonne, for Madame de Saint-Remy is not overindulgent; and any indiscretion on her part might bring hither adomiciliary visit, which would be disagreeable to all parties. "

"But Louise--how shall I know----"

"Begone! begone! King Louis XI. Knew very well what he was about when heinvented the post. "

"Alas!" sighed Raoul. 

"And am I not here--I, who am worth all the posts in the kingdom? Quick, I say, to horse! so that if Madame de Saint-Remy should return forthe purpose of preaching me a lesson on morality, she may not find youhere. "

"She would tell my father, would she not?" murmured Raoul. 

"And you would be scolded. Ah, vicomte, it is very plain you come fromcourt; you are as timid as the king. Peste! at Blois we contrive betterthan that to do without papa's consent. Ask Malicorne else!"

And at these words the girl pushed Raoul out of the room by theshoulders. He glided swiftly down to the porch, regained his horse, mounted, and set off as if he had had Monsieur's guards at his heels. 

CHAPTER 4. Father and Son. 

Raoul followed the well-known road, so dear to his memory, which ledfrom Blois to the residence of the Comte de la Fere. 

The reader will dispense with a second description of that habitation:he, perhaps, has been with us there before, and knows it. Only, sinceour last journey thither, the walls had taken a grayer tint, and thebrickwork assumed a more harmonious copper tone; the trees had grown, and many that then only stretched their slender branches along the topsof the hedges, now bushy, strong, and luxuriant, cast around, beneathboughs swollen with sap, great shadows of blossoms of fruit for thebenefit of the traveler. 

Raoul perceived, from a distance, the two little turrets, the dove-cotein the elms, and the flights of pigeons, which wheeled incessantlyaround that brick cone, seemingly without power to quit it, like thesweet memories which hover round a spirit at peace. 

As he approached, he heard the noise of the pulleys which grated underthe weight of the massy pails; he also fancied he heard the melancholymoaning of the water which falls back again into the wells--a sad, funereal, solemn sound, which strikes the ear of the child and thepoet--both dreamers--which the English call splash; Arabian poets, gasgachau; and which we Frenchmen, who would be poets, can onlytranslate by a paraphrase--the noise of water falling into water. 

It was more than a year since Raoul had been to visit his father. He hadpassed the whole time in the household of M. Le Prince. In fact, afterall the commotions of the Fronde, of the early period of which weformerly attempted to give a sketch, Louis de Conde had made a public, solemn, and frank reconciliation with the court. During all the timethat the rupture between the king and the prince had lasted, the prince, who had long entertained a great regard for Bragelonne, had in vainoffered him advantages of the most dazzling kind for a young man. The Comte de la Fere, still faithful to his principles of loyaltyand royalty, one day developed before his son in the vaults of SaintDenis, --the Comte de la Fere, in the name of his son, had alwaysdeclined them. Moreover, instead of following M. De Conde in hisrebellion, the vicomte had followed M. De Turenne, fighting for theking. Then when M. De Turenne, in his turn, had appeared to abandonthe royal cause, he had quitted M. De Turenne, as he had quitted M. DeConde. It resulted from this invariable line of conduct that, as Condeand Turenne had never been conquerors of each other but under thestandard of the king, Raoul, however young, had ten victories inscribedon his list of services, and not one defeat from which his bravery orconscience had to suffer. 

Raoul, therefore, had, in compliance with the wish of his father, servedobstinately and passively the fortunes of Louis XIV. , in spite of thetergiversations which were endemic, and, it might be said, inevitable, at that period. 

M. De Conde, on being restored to favor, had at once availed himselfof all the privileges of the amnesty to ask for many things back againwhich had been granted him before, and among others, Raoul. M. De laFere, with his invariable good sense, had immediately sent him again tothe prince. 

A year, then, had passed away since the separation of the father andson; a few letters had softened, but not removed, the pains of absence. We have seen that Raoul had left at Blois another love in addition tofilial love. But let us do him this justice--if it had not been forchance and Mademoiselle de Montalais, two great temptations, Raoul, after delivering his message, would have galloped off towards hisfather's house, turning his head round, perhaps, but without stoppingfor a single instant, even if Louise had held out her arms to him. 

So the first part of the journey was given by Raoul to regretting thepast which he had been forced to quit so quickly, that is to say, hislady-love; and the other part to the friend he was about to join, somuch too slowly for his wishes. 

Raoul found the garden-gate open, and rode straight in, withoutregarding the long arms, raised in anger, of an old man dressed in ajacket of violet-colored wool, and a large cap of faded velvet. 

The old man, who was weeding with his hands a bed of dwarf roses andmarguerites, was indignant at seeing a horse thus traversing his sandedand nicely-raked walks. He even ventured a vigorous "Humph!" which madethe cavalier turn round. Then there was a change of scene; for no soonerhad he caught sight of Raoul's face, than the old man sprang up and setoff in the direction of the house, amidst interrupted growlings, whichappeared to be paroxysms of wild delight. 

When arrived at the stables, Raoul gave his horse to a little lackey, and sprang up the perron with an ardor that would have delighted theheart of his father. 

He crossed the ante-chamber, the dining-room, and the salon, withoutmeeting with any one; at length, on reaching the door of M. De la Fere'sapartment, he rapped impatiently, and entered almost without waiting forthe word "Enter!" which was vouchsafed him by a voice at once sweet andserious. The comte was seated at a table covered with papers and books;he was still the noble, handsome gentleman of former days, but time hadgiven to this nobleness and beauty a more solemn and distinct character. A brow white and void of wrinkles, beneath his long hair, now more whitethan black; an eye piercing and mild, under the lids of a young man;his mustache, fine but slightly grizzled, waved over lips of a pure anddelicate model, as if they had never been curled by mortal passions; aform straight and supple; an irreproachable but thin hand--this was whatremained of the illustrious gentleman whom so many illustrious mouthshad praised under the name of Athos. He was engaged in correcting thepages of a manuscript book, entirely filled by his own hand. 

Raoul seized his father by the shoulders, by the neck, as he could, and embraced him so tenderly and so rapidly, that the comte had neitherstrength nor time to disengage himself, or to overcome his paternalemotions. 

"What! you here, Raoul, --you! Is it possible?" said he. 

"Oh, monsieur, monsieur, what joy to see you once again!"

"But you don't answer me, vicomte. Have you leave of absence, or hassome misfortune happened at Paris?"

"Thank God, monsieur, " replied Raoul, calming himself by degrees, "nothing has happened but what is fortunate. The king is going to bemarried, as I had the honor of informing you in my last letter, and, onhis way to Spain, he will pass through Blois. "

"To pay a visit to Monsieur?"

"Yes, monsieur le comte. So, fearing to find him unprepared, or wishingto be particularly polite to him, monsieur le prince sent me forward tohave the lodgings ready. "

"You have seen Monsieur?" asked the vicomte, eagerly. 

"I have had that honor. "

"At the castle?"

"Yes, monsieur, " replied Raoul, casting down his eyes, because, nodoubt, he had felt there was something more than curiosity in thecomte's inquiries. 

"Ah, indeed, vicomte? Accept my compliments thereupon. "

Raoul bowed. 

"But you have seen some one else at Blois?"

"Monsieur, I saw her royal highness, Madame. "

"That's very well: but it is not Madame that I mean. "

Raoul colored deeply, but made no reply. 

"You do not appear to understand me, monsieur le vicomte, " persisted M. De la Fere, without accenting his words more strongly, but with a ratherseverer look. 

"I understand you quite plainly, monsieur, " replied Raoul, "and if Ihesitate a little in my reply, you are well assured I am not seeking fora falsehood. "

"No, you cannot tell a lie, and that makes me so astonished you shouldbe so long in saying yes or no. "

"I cannot answer you without understanding you very well, and if I haveunderstood you, you will take my first words in ill part. You will bedispleased, no doubt, monsieur le comte, because I have seen----"

"Mademoiselle de la Valliere--have you not?"

"It was of her you meant to speak, I know very well, monsieur, " saidRaoul, with inexpressible sweetness. 

"And I asked you if you have seen her. "

"Monsieur, I was ignorant, when I entered the castle, that Mademoisellede la Valliere was there; it was only on my return, after I hadperformed my mission, that chance brought us together. I have had thehonor of paying my respects to her. "

"But what do you call the chance that led you into the presence ofMademoiselle de la Valliere?"

"Mademoiselle de Montalais, monsieur. "

"And who is Mademoiselle de Montalais?"

"A young lady I did not know before, whom I had never seen. She is maidof honor to Madame. "

"Monsieur le vicomte, I will push my interrogatory no further, andreproach myself with having carried it so far. I had desired youto avoid Mademoiselle de la Valliere, and not to see her without mypermission. Oh, I am quite sure you have told me the truth, and that youtook no measures to approach her. Chance has done me this injury; I donot accuse you of it. I will be content then, with what I formerlysaid to you concerning this young lady. I do not reproach her withanything--God is my witness! only it is not my intention or wish thatyou should frequent her place of residence. I beg you once more, my dearRaoul, to understand that. "

It was plain the limpid eyes of Raoul were troubled at this speech. 

"Now, my friend, " said the comte, with his soft smile, and in hiscustomary tone, "let us talk of other matters. You are returning, perhaps, to your duty?"

"No, monsieur, I have no duty for to-day, except the pleasure ofremaining with you. The prince kindly appointed me no other: which wasso much in accord with my wish. "

"Is the king well?"

"Perfectly. "

"And monsieur le prince also?"

"As usual, monsieur. "

The comte forgot to inquire after Mazarin; that was an old habit. 

"Well, Raoul, since you are entirely mine, I will give up my whole dayto you. Embrace me--again, again! You are at home, vicomte! Ah, thereis our old Grimaud! Come in, Grimaud: monsieur le vicomte is desirous ofembracing you likewise. "

The good old man did not require to be twice told; he rushed in withopen arms, Raoul meeting him halfway. 

"Now, if you please, we will go into the garden, Raoul. I will showyou the new lodging I have had prepared for you during your leave ofabsence, and whilst examining the last winter's plantations and twosaddle-horses I have just acquired, you will give me all the news of ourfriends in Paris. "

The comte closed his manuscript, took the young man's arm, and went outinto the garden with him. 

Grimaud looked at Raoul with a melancholy air as the young man passedout; observing that his head nearly touched the traverse of the doorway, stroking his white royale, he slowly murmured:

"How he has grown!"

CHAPTER 5. In which Something will be said of Cropoli--of Cropoli and ofa Great Unknown Painter. 

Whilst the Comte de la Fere with Raoul visits the new buildings hehas had erected, and the new horses he has bought, with the reader'spermission we will lead him back to the city of Blois, and make him awitness of the unaccustomed activity which pervades that city. 

It was in the hotels that the surprise of the news brought by Raoul wasmost sensibly felt. 

In fact, the king and the court at Blois, that is to say, a hundredhorsemen, ten carriages, two hundred horses, as many lackeys asmasters--where was this crowd to be housed? Where were to be lodged allthe gentry of the neighborhood, who would gather in two or threehours after the news had enlarged the circle of its report, like theincreasing circumference produced by a stone thrown into a placid lake?

Blois, as peaceful in the morning, as we have seen, as the calmest lakein the world, at the announcement of the royal arrival, was suddenlyfilled with the tumult and buzzing of a swarm of bees. 

All the servants of the castle, under the inspection of the officers, were sent into the city in quest of provisions, and ten horsemenwere dispatched to the preserves of Chambord to seek for game, to thefisheries of Beuvion for fish, and to the gardens of Chaverny for fruitsand flowers. 

Precious tapestries, and lusters with great gilt chains, were drawn fromthe cupboards; an army of the poor were engaged in sweeping the courtsand washing the stone fronts, whilst their wives went in droves to themeadows beyond the Loire, to gather green boughs and field-flowers. Thewhole city, not to be behind in this luxury of cleanliness, assumed itsbest toilette with the help of brushes, brooms, and water. 

The kennels of the upper town, swollen by these continued lotions, became rivers at the bottom of the city, and the pavement, generallyvery muddy, it must be allowed, took a clean face, and absolutely shonein the friendly rays of the sun. 

Next the music was to be provided; drawers were emptied; theshop-keepers did a glorious trade in wax, ribbons, and sword-knots;housekeepers laid in stores of bread, meat, and spices. Already numbersof the citizens whose houses were furnished as if for a siege, havingnothing more to do, donned their festive clothes and directed theircourse towards the city gate, in order to be the first to signal or seethe cortege. They knew very well that the king would not arrive beforenight, perhaps not before the next morning. Yet what is expectation buta kind of folly, and what is that folly but an excess of hope?

In the lower city, at scarcely a hundred paces from the Castle of theStates, between the mall and the castle, in a sufficiently handsomestreet, then called Rue Vieille, and which must, in fact, have been veryold, stood a venerable edifice, with pointed gables, of squat but largedimensions, ornamented with three windows looking into the street on thefirst floor, with two in the second and with a little oeil de boeuf inthe third. 

On the sides of this triangle had recently been constructed aparallelogram of considerable size, which encroached upon the streetremorselessly, according to the familiar uses of the building of thatperiod. The street was narrowed by a quarter by it, but then the housewas enlarged by a half; and was not that a sufficient compensation?

Tradition said that this house with the pointed gables was inhabited, in the time of Henry III. , by a councilor of state whom Queen Catherinecame, some say to visit, and others to strangle. However that maybe, the good lady must have stepped with a circumspect foot over thethreshold of this building. 

After the councilor had died--whether by strangulation or naturally isof no consequence--the house had been sold, then abandoned, and lastlyisolated from the other houses of the street. Towards the middle of thereign of Louis XIII. Only, an Italian, named Cropoli, escaped from thekitchens of the Marquis d'Ancre, came and took possession of thishouse. There he established a little hostelry, in which was fabricateda macaroni so delicious that people came from miles round to fetch it oreat it. 

So famous had the house become for it, that when Mary de Medici was aprisoner, as we know, in the castle of Blois, she once sent for some. 

It was precisely on the day she had escaped by the famous window. Thedish of macaroni was left upon the table, only just tasted by the royalmouth. 

This double favor, of a strangulation and a macaroni, conferred upon thetriangular house, gave poor Cropoli a fancy to grace his hostelry witha pompous title. But his quality of an Italian was no recommendation inthese times, and his small, well-concealed fortune forbade attractingtoo much attention. 

When he found himself about to die, which happened in 1643, just afterthe death of Louis XIII. , he called to him his son, a young cookof great promise, and with tears in his eyes, he recommended him topreserve carefully the secret of the macaroni, to Frenchify his name, and at length, when the political horizon should be cleared from theclouds which obscured it--this was practiced then as in our day, toorder of the nearest smith a handsome sign, upon which a famous painter, whom he named, should design two queens' portraits, with these words asa legend: "To The Medici. "

The worthy Cropoli, after these recommendations, had only sufficienttime to point out to his young successor a chimney, under the slab ofwhich he had hidden a thousand ten-franc pieces, and then expired. 

Cropoli the younger, like a man of good heart, supported the loss withresignation, and the gain without insolence. He began by accustoming thepublic to sound the final i of his name so little, that by the aid ofgeneral complaisance, he was soon called nothing but M. Cropole, whichis quite a French name. He then married, having had in his eye a littleFrench girl, from whose parents he extorted a reasonable dowry byshowing them what there was beneath the slab of the chimney. 

These two points accomplished, he went in search of the painter who wasto paint the sign; and he was soon found. He was an old Italian, a rivalof the Raphaels and the Caracci, but an unfortunate rival. He said hewas of the Venetian school, doubtless from his fondness for color. Hisworks, of which he had never sold one, attracted the eye at a distanceof a hundred paces; but they so formidably displeased the citizens, thathe had finished by painting no more. 

He boasted of having painted a bath-room for Madame la Marechaled'Ancre, and mourned over this chamber having been burnt at the time ofthe marechal's disaster. 

Cropoli, in his character of a compatriot, was indulgent towardsPittrino, which was the name of the artist. Perhaps he had seen thefamous pictures of the bath-room. Be this as it may, he held in suchesteem, we may say in such friendship, the famous Pittrino, that he tookhim in his own house. 

Pittrino, grateful, and fed with macaroni, set about propagating thereputation of this national dish, and from the time of its founder, he had rendered, with his indefatigable tongue, signal services to thehouse of Cropoli. 

As he grew old he attached himself to the son as he had done to thefather, and by degrees became a kind of overlooker of a house in whichhis remarkable integrity, his acknowledged sobriety, and a thousandother virtues useless to enumerate, gave him an eternal place by thefireside, with a right of inspection over the domestics. Besides this, it was he who tasted the macaroni, to maintain the pure flavor of theancient tradition; and it must be allowed that he never permitted agrain of pepper too much, or an atom of parmesan too little. His joywas at its height on that day when called upon to share the secret ofCropoli the younger, and to paint the famous sign. 

He was seen at once rummaging with ardor in an old box, in which hefound some brushes, a little gnawed by the rats, but still passable;some colors in bladders almost dried up; some linseed-oil in a bottle, and a palette which had formerly belonged to Bronzino, that dieu dela pittoure, as the ultramontane artist, in his ever young enthusiasm, always called him. 

Pittrino was puffed up with all the joy of a rehabilitation. 

He did as Raphael had done--he changed his style, and painted, in thefashion of the Albanian, two goddesses rather than two queens. Theseillustrious ladies appeared so lovely on the sign, --they presentedto the astonished eyes such an assemblage of lilies and roses, theenchanting result of the change of style in Pittrino--they assumed theposes of sirens so Anacreontically--that the principal echevin, whenadmitted to view this capital piece in the salle of Cropole, at oncedeclared that these ladies were too handsome, of too animated a beauty, to figure as a sign in the eyes of passers-by. 

To Pittrino he added, "His royal highness, Monsieur, who often comesinto our city, will not be much pleased to see his illustrious mother soslightly clothed, and he will send you to the oubliettes of the state;for, remember, the heart of that glorious prince is not always tender. You must efface either the two sirens or the legend, without which Iforbid the exhibition of the sign. I say this for your sake, MasterCropole, as well as for yours, Signor Pittrino. "

What answer could be made to this? It was necessary to thank the echevinfor his kindness, which Cropole did. But Pittrino remained downcast andsaid he felt assured of what was about to happen. 

The visitor was scarcely gone when Cropole, crossing his arms, said:"Well, master, what is to be done?"

"We must efface the legend, " said Pittrino, in a melancholy tone. "Ihave some excellent ivory-black; it will be done in a moment, and wewill replace the Medici by the nymphs or the sirens, whichever youprefer. "

"No, " said Cropole, "the will of my father must be carried out. Myfather considered----"

"He considered the figures of the most importance, " said Pittrino. 

"He thought most of the legend, " said Cropole. 

"The proof of the importance in which he held the figures, " saidPittrino, "is that he desired they should be likenesses, and they areso. "

"Yes; but if they had not been so, who would have recognized themwithout the legend? At the present day even, when the memory of theBlaisois begins to be faint with regard to these two celebrated persons, who would recognize Catherine and Mary without the words 'To theMedici'?"

"But the figures?" said Pittrino, in despair; for he felt that youngCropole was right. "I should not like to lose the fruit of my labor. "

"And I should not wish you to be thrown into prison and myself into theoubliettes. "

"Let us efface 'Medici, '" said Pittrino, supplicatingly. 

"No, " replied Cropole, firmly. "I have got an idea, a sublime idea--yourpicture shall appear, and my legend likewise. Does not 'Medici' meandoctor, or physician, in Italian?"

"Yes, in the plural. "

"Well, then, you shall order another sign-frame of the smith; you shallpaint six physicians, and write underneath 'Aux Medici' which makes avery pretty play upon words. "

"Six physicians! impossible! And the composition?" cried Pittrino. 

"That is your business--but so it shall be--I insist upon it--it must beso--my macaroni is burning. "

This reasoning was peremptory--Pittrino obeyed. He composed the sign ofsix physicians, with the legend; the echevin applauded and authorizedit. 

The sign produced an extravagant success in the city, which proves thatpoetry has always been in the wrong, before citizens, as Pittrino said. 

Cropole, to make amends to his painter-in-ordinary, hung up the nymphsof the preceding sign in his bedroom, which made Madame Cropole blushevery time she looked at it, when she was undressing at night. 

This is the way in which the pointed-gable house got a sign; and thisis how the hostelry of the Medici, making a fortune, was found to beenlarged by a quarter, as we have described. And this is how there wasat Blois a hostelry of that name, and had for painter-in-ordinary MasterPittrino. 

CHAPTER 6. The Unknown. 

Thus founded and recommended by its sign, the hostelry of Master Cropoleheld its way steadily on towards a solid prosperity. 

It was not an immense fortune that Cropole had in perspective; but hemight hope to double the thousand louis d'or left by his father, to makeanother thousand louis by the sale of his house and stock, and at lengthto live happily like a retired citizen. 

Cropole was anxious for gain, and was half-crazy with joy at the news ofthe arrival of Louis XIV. 

Himself, his wife, Pittrino, and two cooks, immediately laid handsupon all the inhabitants of the dove-cote, the poultry-yard, and therabbit-hutches; so that as many lamentations and cries resounded in theyards of the hostelry of the Medici as were formerly heard in Rama. 

Cropole had, at the time, but one single traveler in his house. 

This was a man of scarcely thirty years of age, handsome, tall, austere, or rather melancholy, in all his gestures and looks. 

He was dressed in black velvet with jet trimmings; a white collar, asplain as that of the severest Puritan, set off the whiteness of hisyouthful neck; a small dark-colored mustache scarcely covered hiscurled, disdainful lip. 

He spoke to people looking them full in the face without affectation, itis true, but without scruple; so that the brilliancy of his black eyesbecame so insupportable, that more than one look had sunk beneath hislike the weaker sword in a single combat. 

At this time, in which men, all created equal by God, were divided, thanks to prejudices, into two distinct castes, the gentleman and thecommoner, as they are really divided into two races, the black and thewhite, --at this time, we say, he whose portrait we have just sketchedcould not fail of being taken for a gentleman, and of the best class. To ascertain this, there was no necessity to consult anything but hishands, long, slender, and white, of which every muscle, every vein, became apparent through the skin at the least movement, and eloquentlyspoke of good descent. 

This gentleman, then, had arrived alone at Cropole's house. He hadtaken, without hesitation, without reflection even, the principalapartment which the hotelier had pointed out to him with a rapaciousaim, very praiseworthy, some will say, very reprehensible will sayothers, if they admit that Cropole was a physiognomist and judged peopleat first sight. 

This apartment was that which composed the whole front of the ancienttriangular house, a large salon, lighted by two windows on the firststage, a small chamber by the side of it, and another above it. 

Now, from the time he had arrived, this gentleman had scarcely touchedany repast that had been served up to him in his chamber. He had spokenbut two words to the host, to warn him that a traveler of the name ofParry would arrive, and to desire that, when he did, he should be shownup to him immediately. 

He afterwards preserved so profound a silence, that Cropole was almostoffended, so much did he prefer people who were good company. 

This gentleman had risen early the morning of the day on which thishistory begins, and had placed himself at the window of his salon, seated upon the ledge, and leaning upon the rail of the balcony, gazingsadly but persistently on both sides of the street, watching, no doubt, for the arrival of the traveler he had mentioned to the host. 

In this way he had seen the little cortege of Monsieur return fromhunting, then had again partaken of the profound tranquillity of thestreet, absorbed in his own expectations. 

All at once the movement of the crowd going to the meadows, courierssetting out, washers of pavement, purveyors of the royal household, gabbling, scampering shopboys, chariots in motion, hair-dressers on therun, and pages toiling along, this tumult and bustle had surprised him, but without losing any of that impassible and supreme majesty whichgives to the eagle and the lion that serene and contemptuous glanceamidst the hurrahs and shouts of hunters or the curious. 

Soon the cries of the victims slaughtered in the poultry-yard, the hastysteps of Madame Cropole up that little wooden staircase, so narrow andso echoing, the bounding pace of Pittrino, who only that morningwas smoking at the door with all the phlegm of a Dutchman; all thiscommunicated something like surprise and agitation to the traveler. 

As he was rising to make inquiries, the door of his chamber opened. Theunknown concluded they were about to introduce the impatiently expectedtraveler, and made three precipitate steps to meet him. 

But, instead of the person he expected, it was Master Cropole whoappeared, and behind him, in the half-dark staircase, the pleasant faceof Madame Cropole, rendered trivial by curiosity. She only gave onefurtive glance at the handsome gentleman, and disappeared. 

Cropole advanced, cap in hand, rather bent than bowing. 

A gesture of the unknown interrogated him, without a word beingpronounced. 

"Monsieur, " said Cropole, "I come to ask how--what ought I to say: yourlordship, monsieur le comte, or monsieur le marquis?"

"Say monsieur, and speak quickly, " replied the unknown, with thathaughty accent which admits of neither discussion nor reply. 

"I came, then, to inquire how monsieur had passed the night, and ifmonsieur intended to keep this apartment?"

"Yes. "

"Monsieur, something has happened upon which we could not reckon. "

"What?"

"His majesty Louis XIV. Will enter our city to-day and will remain hereone day, perhaps two. "

Great astonishment was painted on the countenance of the unknown. 

"The King of France coming to Blois?"

"He is on the road, monsieur. "

"Then there is the stronger reason for my remaining, " said the unknown. 

"Very well; but will monsieur keep all the apartments?"

"I do not understand you. Why should I require less to-day thanyesterday?"

"Because, monsieur, your lordship will permit me to say, yesterday Idid not think proper, when you chose your lodging, to fix any price thatmight have made your lordship believe that I prejudged your resources;whilst to-day----"

The unknown colored; the idea at once struck him that he was supposed tobe poor, and was being insulted. 

"Whilst to-day, " replied he, coldly, "you do prejudge. "

"Monsieur, I am a well-meaning man, thank God! and simple hotelier as Iam, there is in me the blood of a gentleman. My father was a servant andofficer of the late Marechal d'Ancre. God rest his soul!"

"I do not contest that point with you; I only wish to know, and thatquickly, to what your questions tend?"

"You are too reasonable, monsieur, not to comprehend that our city issmall, that the court is about to invade it, that the houses will beoverflowing with inhabitants, and that lodgings will consequently obtainconsiderable prices. "

Again the unknown colored. "Name your terms, " said he. 

"I name them with scruple, monsieur, because I seek an honest gain, andthat I wish to carry on my business without being uncivil or extravagantin my demands. Now the room you occupy is considerable, and you arealone. "

"That is my business. "

"Oh! certainly. I do not mean to turn monsieur out. "

The blood rushed to the temples of the unknown; he darted at poorCropole, the descendant of one of the officers of the Marechal d'Ancre, a glance that would have crushed him down to beneath that famouschimney-slab, if Cropole had not been nailed to the spot by the questionof his own proper interests. 

"Do you desire me to go?" said he. "Explain yourself--but quickly. "

"Monsieur, monsieur, you do not understand me. It is very critical--Iknow--that which I am doing. I express myself badly, or perhaps, asmonsieur is a foreigner, which I perceive by his accent----"

In fact, the unknown spoke with that impetuosity which is the principalcharacter of English accentuation, even among men who speak the Frenchlanguage with the neatest purity. 

"As monsieur is a foreigner, I say, it is perhaps he who does not catchmy exact meaning. I wish for monsieur to give up one or two of theapartments he occupies, which would diminish his expenses and ease myconscience. Indeed, it is hard to increase unreasonably the price of thechambers, when one has had the honor to let them at a reasonable price. "

"How much does the hire amount to since yesterday?"

"Monsieur, to one louis, with refreshments and the charge for thehorse. "

"Very well, and that of to-day?"

"Ah! there is the difficulty. This is the day of the king's arrival; ifthe court comes to sleep here, the charge of the day is reckoned. Fromthat it results that three chambers, at two louis each, makes six louis. Two louis, monsieur, are not much; but six louis make a great deal. "

The unknown, from red, as we have seen him, became very pale. 

He drew from his pocket, with heroic bravery, a purse embroidered witha coat-of-arms, which he carefully concealed in the hollow of his hand. This purse was of a thinness, a flabbiness, a hollowness, which did notescape the eye of Cropole. 

The unknown emptied the purse into his hand. It contained three doublelouis, which amounted to the six louis demanded by the host. 

But it was seven that Cropole had required. 

He looked, therefore, at the unknown, as much as to say, "And then?"

"There remains one louis, does there not, master hotelier?"

"Yes, monsieur, but----"

The unknown plunged his hand into the pocket of his haut-de-chausses, and emptied it. It contained a small pocket-book, a gold key, and somesilver. With this change he made up a louis. 

"Thank you, monsieur, " said Cropole. "It now only remains for me to askwhether monsieur intends to occupy his apartments to-morrow, in whichcase I will reserve them for him; whereas, if monsieur does not mean todo so, I will promise them to some of the king's people who are coming. "

"That is but right, " said the unknown, after a long silence, "but asI have no more money, as you have seen, and as I yet must retain theapartments, you must either sell this diamond in the city, or hold it inpledge. "

Cropole looked at the diamond so long, that the unknown said, hastily:

"I prefer your selling it, monsieur; for it is worth three hundredpistoles. A Jew--are there any Jews in Blois?--would give you twohundred or a hundred and fifty for it--take whatever may be offered forit, if it be no more than the price of your lodging. Begone!"

"Oh! monsieur, " replied Cropole, ashamed of the sudden inferioritywhich the unknown reflected upon him by this noble and disinterestedconfidence, as well as by the unalterable patience opposed to somany suspicions and evasions. "Oh, monsieur, I hope people are not sodishonest at Blois as you seem to think, and that the diamond, beingworth what you say----"

The unknown here again darted at Cropole one of his withering glances. 

"I really do not understand diamonds, monsieur, I assure you, " cried he. 

"But the jewelers do: ask them, " said the unknown. "Now I believe ouraccounts are settled, are they not, monsieur l'hote?"

"Yes, monsieur, and to my profound regret; for I fear I have offendedmonsieur. "

"Not at all!" replied the unknown, with ineffable majesty. 

"Or have appeared to be extortionate with a noble traveler. Consider, monsieur, the peculiarity of the case. "

"Say no more about it, I desire; and leave me to myself. "

Cropole bowed profoundly, and left the room with a stupefied air, whichannounced that he had a good heart, and felt genuine remorse. 

The unknown himself shut the door after him, and when left alone, lookedmournfully at the bottom of the purse, from which he had taken a smallsilken bag containing the diamond, his last resource. 

He dwelt likewise upon the emptiness of his pockets, turned overthe papers in his pocket-book, and convinced himself of the state ofabsolute destitution in which he was about to be plunged. 

He raised his eyes towards heaven, with a sublime emotion of despairingcalmness, brushed off with his hand some drops of sweat which trickledover his noble brow, and then cast down upon the earth a look which justbefore had been impressed with almost divine majesty. 

That the storm had passed far from him, perhaps he had prayed in thebottom of his soul. 

He drew near to the window, resumed his place in the balcony, andremained there, motionless, annihilated, dead, till the moment when, theheavens beginning to darken, the first flambeaux traversed the enlivenedstreet, and gave the signal for illumination to all the windows of thecity. 

CHAPTER 7. Parry. 

Whilst the unknown was viewing these lights with interest, and lendingan ear to the various noises, Master Cropole entered his apartment, followed by two attendants, who laid the cloth for his meal. 

The stranger did not pay them the least attention; but Cropoleapproaching him respectfully, whispered "Monsieur, the diamond has beenvalued. "

"Ah!" said the traveler. "Well?"

"Well, monsieur, the jeweler of S. A. R. Gives two hundred and eightypistoles for it. "

"Have you them?"

"I thought it best to take them, monsieur; nevertheless, I made it acondition of the bargain, that if monsieur wished to keep his diamond, it should be held till monsieur was again in funds. "

"Oh, no, not at all; I told you to sell it. "

"Then I have obeyed, or nearly so, since, without having definitely soldit, I have touched the money. "

"Pay yourself, " added the unknown. 

"I will do so, monsieur, since you so positively require it. "

A sad smile passed over the lips of the gentleman. 

"Place the money on that trunk, " said he, turning round and pointing tothe piece of furniture. 

Cropole deposited a tolerably large bag as directed, after having takenfrom it the amount of his reckoning. 

"Now, " said he, "I hope monsieur will not give me the pain of not takingany supper. Dinner has already been refused; this is affronting to thehouse of les Medici. Look, monsieur, the supper is on the table, and Iventure to say that it is not a bad one. "

The unknown asked for a glass of wine, broke off a morsel of bread, anddid not stir from the window whilst he ate and drank. 

Shortly after was heard a loud flourish of trumpets; cries arose in thedistance, a confused buzzing filled the lower part of the city, and thefirst distinct sound that struck the ears of the stranger was the trampof advancing horses. 

"The king! the king!" repeated a noisy and eager crowd. 

"The king!" cried Cropole, abandoning his guest and his ideas ofdelicacy, to satisfy his curiosity. 

With Cropole were mingled, and jostled, on the staircase, MadameCropole, Pittrino, and the waiters and scullions. 

The cortege advanced slowly, lighted by a thousand flambeaux, in thestreets and from the windows. 

After a company of musketeers, a closely ranked troop of gentlemen, camethe litter of monsieur le cardinal, drawn like a carriage by four blackhorses. The pages and people of the cardinal marched behind. 

Next came the carriage of the queen-mother, with her maids of honor atthe doors, her gentlemen on horseback at both sides. 

The king then appeared, mounted upon a splendid horse of Saxon breed, with a flowing mane. The young prince exhibited, when bowing to somewindows from which issued the most animated acclamations, a noble andhandsome countenance, illumined by the flambeaux of his pages. 

By the side of the king, though a little in the rear, the Prince deConde, M. Dangeau, and twenty other courtiers, followed by their peopleand their baggage, closed this veritably triumphant march. The pomp wasof a military character. 

Some of the courtiers--the elder ones, for instance--wore travelingdresses; but all the rest were clothed in warlike panoply. Many wore thegorges and buff coat of the times of Henry IV. And Louis XIII. 

When the king passed before him, the unknown, who had leant forward overthe balcony to obtain a better view, and who had concealed his faceby leaning on his arm, felt his heart swell and overflow with a bitterjealousy. 

The noise of the trumpets excited him--the popular acclamations deafenedhim: for a moment he allowed his reason to be absorbed in this flood oflights, tumult and brilliant images. 

"He is a king!" murmured he, in an accent of despair. 

Then, before he had recovered from his sombre reverie all the noise, allthe splendor, had passed away. At the angle of the street there remainednothing beneath the stranger but a few hoarse, discordant voices, shouting at intervals, "Vive le Roi!"

There remained likewise the six candles held by the inhabitants of thehostelry des Medici; that is to say, two for Cropole, two for Pittrino, and one for each scullion. Cropole never ceased repeating, "Howgood-looking the king is! How strongly he resembles his illustriousfather!"

"A handsome likeness!" said Pittrino. 

"And what a lofty carriage he has!" added Madame Cropole, already inpromiscuous commentary with her neighbors of both sexes. 

Cropole was feeding their gossip with his own personal remarks, withoutobserving that an old man on foot, but leading a small Irish horse bythe bridle, was endeavoring to penetrate the crowd of men and womenwhich blocked up the entrance to the Medici. But at that moment thevoice of the stranger was heard from the window. 

"Make way, monsieur l'hotelier, to the entrance of your house!"

Cropole turned around, and, on seeing the old man, cleared a passage forhim. 

The window was instantly closed. 

Pittrino pointed out the way to the newly-arrived guest, who enteredwithout uttering a word. 

The stranger waited for him on the landing; he opened his arms to theold man and led him to a seat. 

"Oh, no, no, my lord!" said he. "Sit down in your presence?--never!"

"Parry, " cried the gentleman, "I beg you will; you come fromEngland--you come so far. Ah! it is not for your age to undergo thefatigues my service requires. Rest yourself. "

"I have my reply to give your lordship, in the first place. "

"Parry, I conjure you to tell me nothing; for if your news had beengood, you would not have begun in such a manner; you go about, whichproves that the news is bad. "

"My lord, " said the old man, "do not hasten to alarm yourself, allis not lost, I hope. You must employ energy, but more particularlyresignation. "

"Parry, " said the young man, "I have reached this place through athousand snares and after a thousand difficulties; can you doubtmy energy? I have meditated this journey ten years, in spite of allcounsels and all obstacles--have you faith in my perseverance? I havethis evening sold the last of my father's diamonds; for I had nothingwherewith to pay for my lodging and my host was about to turn me out. "

Parry made a gesture of indignation, to which the young man replied by apressure of the hand and a smile. 

"I have still two hundred and seventy-four pistoles left, and I feelmyself rich. I do not despair, Parry; have you faith in my resignation?"

The old man raised his trembling hands towards heaven. 

"Let me know, " said the stranger, --"disguise nothing from me--what hashappened?"

"My recital will be short, my lord, but in the name of Heaven do nottremble so. "

"It is impatience, Parry. Come, what did the general say to you?"

"At first the general would not receive me. "

"He took you for a spy?"

"Yes, my lord, but I wrote him a letter. "

"Well?"

"He read it, and received me, my lord. "

"Did that letter thoroughly explain my position and my views?"

"Oh, yes!" said Parry, with a sad smile; "it painted your very thoughtsfaithfully. "

"Well--then, Parry?"

"Then the general sent me back the letter by an aide-de-camp, informingme that if I were found the next day within the circumscription of hiscommand, he would have me arrested. "

"Arrested!" murmured the young man. "What! arrest you, my most faithfulservant?"

"Yes, my lord. "

"And notwithstanding you had signed the name Parry?"

"To all my letters, my lord; and the aide-de-camp had known me at St. James's and at Whitehall, too, " added the old man with a sigh. 

The young man leaned forward, thoughtful and sad. 

"Ay, that's what he did before his people, " said he, endeavoring tocheat himself with hopes. "But, privately--between you and him--what didhe do? Answer!"

"Alas! my lord, he sent to me four cavaliers, who gave me the horse withwhich you just now saw me come back. These cavaliers conducted me, ingreat haste, to the little port of Tenby, threw me, rather than embarkedme, into a fishing-boat, about to sail for Brittany, and here I am. "

"Oh!" sighed the young man, clasping his neck convulsively with hishand, and with a sob. "Parry, is that all?--is that all?"

"Yes, my lord; that is all. "

After this brief reply ensued a long interval of silence, broken only bythe convulsive beating of the heel of the young man on the floor. 

The old man endeavored to change the conversation; it was leading tothoughts much too sinister. 

"My lord, " said he, "what is the meaning of all the noise which precededme? What are these people crying 'Vive le Roi!' for? What king do theymean? and what are all these lights for?"

"Ah! Parry, " replied the young man ironically, "don't you know thatthis is the King of France visiting his good city of Blois? All thosetrumpets are his, all those gilded housings are his, all those gentlemenwear swords that are his. His mother precedes him in a carriagemagnificently encrusted with silver and gold. Happy mother! His ministerheaps up millions, and conducts him to a rich bride. Then all thesepeople rejoice, they love their king, they hail him with theiracclamations, and they cry, 'Vive le Roi! Vive le Roi!'"

"Well, well, my lord, " said Parry, more uneasy at the turn theconversation had taken than at the other. 

"You know, " resumed the unknown, "that my mother and my sister, whilstall this is going on in honor of the King of France, have neither moneynor bread; you know that I myself shall be poor and degraded within afortnight, when all Europe will become acquainted with what you havetold me. Parry, are there not examples in which a man of my conditionshould himself----"

"My lord, in the name of Heaven----"

"You are right, Parry, I am a coward, and if I do nothing for myself, what will God do? No, no, I have two arms, Parry, and I have a sword. "And he struck his arm violently with his hand and took down his sword, which hung against the wall. 

"What are you going to do, my lord?"

"What am I going to do, Parry? What every one in my family does. Mymother lives on public charity, my sister begs for my mother; I have, somewhere or other, brothers who equally beg for themselves; and I, theeldest, will go and do as all the rest do--I will go and ask charity!"

And at these words, which he finished sharply with a nervous andterrible laugh, the young man girded on his sword, took his hat from thetrunk, fastened to his shoulder a black cloak, which he had worn duringall his journey, and pressing the two hands of the old man, who watchedhis proceedings with a look of anxiety, --

"My good Parry, " said he, "order a fire, drink, eat, sleep, and behappy; let us both be happy, my faithful friend, my only friend. We arerich, as rich as kings!"

He struck the bag of pistoles with his clenched hand as he spoke, andit fell heavily to the ground. He resumed that dismal laugh that had soalarmed Parry; and whilst the whole household was screaming, singing, and preparing to install the travelers who had been preceded by theirlackeys, he glided out by the principal entrance into the street, wherethe old man, who had gone to the window, lost sight of him in a moment. 

CHAPTER 8. What his Majesty King Louis XIV. Was at the Age of Twenty-Two

It has been seen, by the account we have endeavored to give of it, thatthe entree of King Louis XIV. Into the city of Blois had been noisy andbrilliant his young majesty had therefore appeared perfectly satisfiedwith it. 

On arriving beneath the porch of the Castle of the States, the king met, surrounded by his guards and gentlemen, with S. A. R. The duke, Gastonof Orleans, whose physiognomy, naturally rather majestic, had borrowedon this solemn occasion a fresh luster and a fresh dignity. On herpart, Madame, dressed in her robes of ceremony, awaited, in the interiorbalcony, the entrance of her nephew. All the windows of the old castle, so deserted and dismal on ordinary days, were resplendent with ladiesand lights. 

It was then to the sound of drums, trumpets, and vivats, that the youngking crossed the threshold of that castle in which, seventy-two yearsbefore, Henry III. Had called in the aid of assassination and treacheryto keep upon his head and in his house a crown which was alreadyslipping from his brow, to fall into another family. 

All eyes, after having admired the young king, so handsome and soagreeable, sought for that other king of France, much otherwise kingthan the former, and so old, so pale, so bent, that people called himthe Cardinal Mazarin. 

Louis was at this time endowed with all the natural gifts which makethe perfect gentleman; his eye was brilliant, mild, and of a clear azureblue. But the most skillful physiognomists, those divers into the soul, on fixing their looks upon it, if it had been possible for a subject tosustain the glance of the king, --the most skillful physiognomists, wesay, would never have been able to fathom the depths of that abyss ofmildness. It was with the eyes of the king as with the immense depths ofthe azure heavens, or with those more terrific, and almost as sublime, which the Mediterranean reveals under the keels of its ships in aclear summer day, a gigantic mirror in which heaven delights to reflectsometimes its stars, sometimes its storms. 

The king was short of stature--he was scarcely five feet two inches: buthis youth made up for this defect, set off likewise by great noblenessin all his movements, and by considerable address in all bodilyexercises. 

Certes, he was already quite a king, and it was a great thing to be aking in that period of traditional devotedness and respect; but as, up to that time, he had been but seldom and always poorly shown to thepeople, as they to whom he was shown saw him by the side of his mother, a tall woman, and monsieur le cardinal, a man of commanding presence, many found him so little of a king as to say, --

"Why, the king is not so tall as monsieur le cardinal!"

Whatever may be thought of these physical observations, which wereprincipally made in the capital, the young king was welcomed as a god bythe inhabitants of Blois, and almost like a king by his uncle and aunt, Monsieur and Madame, the inhabitants of the castle. 

It must, however, be allowed, that when he saw, in the hall ofreception, chairs of equal height placed for himself, his mother, thecardinal, and his uncle and aunt, a disposition artfully concealed bythe semicircular form of the assembly, Louis XIV. Became red with anger, and looked around him to ascertain by the countenances of those thatwere present, if this humiliation had been prepared for him. But as hesaw nothing upon the impassible visage of the cardinal, nothing on thatof his mother, nothing on those of the assembly, he resigned himself, and sat down, taking care to be seated before anybody else. 

The gentlemen and ladies were presented to their majesties and monsieurle cardinal. 

The king remarked that his mother and he scarcely knew the names of anyof the persons who were presented to them; whilst the cardinal, on thecontrary never failed, with an admirable memory and presence of mind, to talk to every one about his estates, his ancestors, or his children, some of whom he named, which enchanted those worthy country gentlemen, and confirmed them in the idea that he alone is truly king who knows hissubjects, from the same reason that the sun has no rival, because thesun alone warms and lightens. 

The study of the young king, which had begun a long time before, withoutanybody suspecting it, was continued then, and he looked around himattentively to endeavor to make out something in the physiognomies whichhad at first appeared the most insignificant and trivial. 

A collation was served. The king, without daring to call upon thehospitality of his uncle, had waited for it impatiently. This time, therefore, he had all the honors due, if not to his rank, at least tohis appetite. 

As to the cardinal, he contented himself with touching with his witheredlips a bouillon, served in a gold cup. The all-powerful minister, whohad taken her regency from the queen, and his royalty from the king, hadnot been able to take a good stomach from nature. 

Anne of Austria, already suffering from the cancer which six or eightyears after caused her death, ate very little more than the cardinal. 

For Monsieur, already puffed up with the great event which had takenplace in his provincial life, he ate nothing whatever. 

Madame alone, like a true Lorrainer, kept pace with his majesty; so thatLouis XIV. , who, without this partner, might have eaten nearly alone, was at first much pleased with his aunt, and afterwards with M. DeSaint-Remy, her maitre d'hotel, who had really distinguished himself. 

The collation over, at a sign of approbation from M. De Mazarin, theking arose, and, at the invitation of his aunt, walked about among theranks of the assembly. 

The ladies then observed--there are certain things for which women areas good observers at Blois as at Paris--the ladies then observed thatLouis XIV. Had a prompt and bold look, which premised a distinguishedappreciator of beauty. The men, on their part, observed that the princewas proud and haughty, that he loved to look down those who fixed theireyes upon him too long or too earnestly, which gave presage of a master. 

Louis XIV. Had accomplished about a third of his review when his earswere struck with a word which his eminence pronounced whilst conversingwith Monsieur. 

This word was the name of a woman. 

Scarcely had Louis XIV. Heard this word than he heard, or ratherlistened to nothing else; and neglecting the arc of the circle whichawaited his visit, his object seemed to be to come as quickly aspossible to the extremity of the curve. 

Monsieur, like a good courtier, was inquiring of monsieur le cardinalafter the health of his nieces; he regretted, he said, not having thepleasure of receiving them at the same time with their uncle; they mustcertainly have grown in stature, beauty and grace, as they had promisedto do the last time Monsieur had seen them. 

What had first struck the king was a certain contrast in the voices ofthe two interlocutors. The voice of Monsieur was calm and natural whilehe spoke thus; while that of M. De Mazarin jumped by a note and a halfto reply above the diapason of his usual voice. It might have been saidthat he wished that voice to strike, at the end of the salon, any earthat was too distant. 

"Monseigneur, " replied he, "Mesdemoiselles de Mazarin have still tofinish their education: they have duties to fulfill, and a position tomake. An abode in a young and brilliant court would dissipate them alittle. "

Louis, at this last sentence, smiled sadly. The court was young, it wastrue, but the avarice of the cardinal had taken good care that it shouldnot be brilliant. 

"You have nevertheless no intention, " replied Monsieur, "to cloisterthem or make them bourgeoises?"

"Not at all, " replied the cardinal, forcing his Italian pronunciation insuch a manner that, from soft and velvety as it was, it became sharp andvibrating, "not at all: I have a full and fixed intention to marry them, and that as well as I shall be able. "

"Parties will not be wanting, monsieur le cardinal, " replied Monsieur, with a bonhomie worthy of one tradesman congratulating another. 

"I hope not, monseigneur, and with reason, as God has been pleased togive them grace, intelligence, and beauty. "

During this conversation, Louis XIV. , conducted by Madame, accomplished, as we have described, the circle of presentations. 

"Mademoiselle Auricule, " said the princess, presenting to his majesty afat, fair girl of two-and-twenty, who at a village fete might havebeen taken for a peasant in Sunday finery, --"the daughter of mymusic-mistress. "

The king smiled. Madame had never been able to extract four correctnotes from either viol or harpsichord. 

"Mademoiselle Aure de Montalais, " continued Madame, "a young lady ofrank, and my good attendant. "

This time it was not the king that smiled; it was the young ladypresented, because, for the first time in her life, she heard, given toher by Madame, who generally showed no tendency to spoil her, such anhonorable qualification. 

Our old acquaintance Montalais, therefore, made his majesty a profoundcourtesy, the more respectful from the necessity she was under ofconcealing certain contractions of her laughing lips, which the kingmight not have attributed to their real cause. 

It was just at this moment that the king caught the word which startledhim. 

"And the name of the third?" asked Monsieur. 

"Mary, monseigneur, " replied the cardinal. 

There was doubtless some magical influence in that word, for, as we havesaid, the king started at hearing it, and drew Madame towards the middleof the circle, as if he wished to put some confidential question to her, but, in reality, for the sake of getting nearer to the cardinal. 

"Madame my aunt, " said he, laughing, and in a suppressed voice, "mygeography-master did not teach me that Blois was at such an immensedistance from Paris. "

"What do you mean, nephew?" asked Madame. 

"Why, because it would appear that it requires several years, as regardsfashion, to travel the distance!--Look at those young ladies!"

"Well; I know them all. "

"Some of them are pretty. "

"Don't say that too loud, monsieur my nephew; you will drive them wild. "

"Stop a bit, stop a bit, dear aunt!" said the king, smiling; "for thesecond part of my sentence will serve as a corrective to the first. Well, my dear aunt, some of them appear old and others ugly, thanks totheir ten-year-old fashions. "

"But, sire, Blois is only five days, journey from Paris. "

"Yes, that is it, " said the king: "two years behind for each day. "

"Indeed! do you really think so? Well, that is strange! It never struckme. "

"Now, look, aunt, " said Louis XIV. , drawing still nearer to Mazarin, under the pretext of gaining a better point of view, "look at thatsimple white dress by the side of those antiquated specimens of finery, and those pretentious coiffures. She is probably one of my mother'smaids of honor, though I don't know her. "

"Ah! ah! my dear nephew!" replied Madame, laughing, "permit me to tellyou that your divinatory science is at fault for once. The young ladyyou honor with your praise is not a Parisian, but a Blaisoise. "

"Oh, aunt!" replied the king with a look of doubt. 

"Come here, Louise, " said Madame. 

And the fair girl, already known to you under that name, approachedthem, timid, blushing, and almost bent beneath the royal glance. 

"Mademoiselle Louise Francoise de la Baume le Blanc, the daughter of theMarquise de la Valliere, " said Madame, ceremoniously. 

The young girl bowed with so much grace, mingled with the profoundtimidity inspired by the presence of the king, that the latter lost, while looking at her, a few words of the conversation of Monsieur andthe cardinal. 

"Daughter-in-law, " continued Madame, "of M. De Saint-Remy, my maitred'hotel, who presided over the confection of that excellent daubetruffee which your majesty seemed so much to appreciate. "

No grace, no youth, no beauty, could stand out against such apresentation. The king smiled. Whether the words of Madame were apleasantry, or uttered in all innocency, they proved the pitilessimmolation of everything that Louis had found charming or poetic in theyoung girl. Mademoiselle de la Valliere, for Madame and, by rebound, for the king, was, for a moment, no more than the daughter of a man of asuperior talent over dindes truffees. 

But princes are thus constituted. The gods, too, were just like thisin Olympus. Diana and Venus, no doubt, abused the beautiful Alcmenaand poor Io, when they condescended, for distraction's sake, to speak, amidst nectar and ambrosia, of mortal beauties, at the table of Jupiter. 

Fortunately, Louise was so bent in her reverential salute, that she didnot catch either Madame's words or the king's smile. In fact, if thepoor child, who had so much good taste as alone to have chosen to dressherself in white amidst all her companions--if that dove's heart, soeasily accessible to painful emotions, had been touched by the cruelwords of Madame, or the egotistical cold smile of the king, it wouldhave annihilated her. 

And Montalais herself, the girl of ingenious ideas, would not haveattempted to recall her to life; for ridicule kills beauty even. 

But fortunately, as we have said, Louise, whose ears were buzzing, andher eyes veiled by timidity, --Louise saw nothing and heard nothing; andthe king, who had still his attention directed to the conversation ofthe cardinal and his uncle, hastened to return to them. 

He came up just at the moment Mazarin terminated by saying: "Mary, aswell as her sisters, has just set off for Brouage. I make them followthe opposite bank of the Loire to that along which we have traveled; andif I calculate their progress correctly, according to the orders I havegiven, they will to-morrow be opposite Blois. "

These words were pronounced with that tact--that measure, thatdistinctness of tone, of intention, and reach--which made del SignorGiulio Mazarini the first comedian in the world. 

It resulted that they went straight to the heart of Louis XIV. , andthe cardinal, on turning round at the simple noise of the approachingfootsteps of his majesty, saw the immediate effect of them upon thecountenance of his pupil, an effect betrayed to the keen eyes of hiseminence by a slight increase of color. But what was the ventilation ofsuch a secret to him whose craft had for twenty years deceived all thediplomatists of Europe?

From the moment the young king heard these last words, he appeared as ifhe had received a poisoned arrow in his heart. He could not remain quietin a place, but cast around an uncertain, dead, and aimless look overthe assembly. He with his eyes interrogated his mother more thantwenty times: but she, given up to the pleasure of conversing with hersister-in-law, and likewise constrained by the glance of Mazarin, didnot appear to comprehend any of the supplications conveyed by the looksof her son. 

From this moment, music, lights, flowers, beauties, all became odiousand insipid to Louis XIV. After he had a hundred times bitten hislips, stretched his legs and his arms like a well-brought-up childwho, without daring to gape, exhausts all the modes of evincing hisweariness--after having uselessly again implored his mother and theminister, he turned a despairing look towards the door, that is to say, towards liberty. 

At this door, in the embrasure of which he was leaning, he saw, standingout strongly, a figure with a brown and lofty countenance, an aquilinenose, a stern but brilliant eye, gray and long hair, a black mustache, the true type of military beauty, whose gorget, more sparkling than amirror, broke all the reflected lights which concentrated upon it, andsent them back as lightning. This officer wore his gray hat with itslong red plumes upon his head, a proof that he was called there by hisduty, and not by his pleasure. If he had been brought thither by hispleasure--if he had been a courtier instead of a soldier, as pleasuremust always be paid for at the same price--he would have held his hat inhis hand. 

That which proved still better that this officer was upon duty, and wasaccomplishing a task to which he was accustomed, was, that he watched, with folded arms, remarkable indifference, and supreme apathy, the joysand ennuis of this fete. Above all, he appeared, like a philosopher, andall old soldiers are philosophers, --he appeared above all to comprehendthe ennuis infinitely better than the joys; but in the one he took hispart, knowing very well how to do without the other. 

Now, he was leaning, as we have said, against the carved door-frame whenthe melancholy, weary eyes of the king, by chance, met his. 

It was not the first time, as it appeared, that the eyes of the officerhad met those eyes, and he was perfectly acquainted with the expressionof them; for, as soon as he had cast his own look upon the countenanceof Louis XIV. , and had read by it what was passing in his heart--that isto say, all the ennui that oppressed him--all the timid desire to goout which agitated him, --he perceived he must render the king aservice without his commanding it, --almost in spite of himself. Boldly, therefore, as if he had given the word of command to cavalry in battle, "On the king's service!" cried he, in a clear, sonorous voice. 

At these words, which produced the effect of a peal of thunder, prevailing over the orchestra, the singing and the buzz of thepromenaders, the cardinal and the queen-mother looked at each other withsurprise. 

Louis XIV. , pale, but resolved, supported as he was by that intuitionof his own thought which he had found in the mind of the officer ofmusketeers, and which he had just manifested by the order given, arosefrom his chair, and took a step towards the door. 

"Are you going, my son?" said the queen, whilst Mazarin satisfiedhimself with interrogating by a look which might have appeared mild ifit had not been so piercing. 

"Yes, madame, " replied the king; "I am fatigued, and, besides, wish towrite this evening. "

A smile stole over the lips of the minister, who appeared, by a bend ofthe head, to give the king permission. 

Monsieur and Madame hastened to give orders to the officers whopresented themselves. 

The king bowed, crossed the hall, and gained the door, where a hedge oftwenty musketeers awaited him. At the extremity of this hedge stood theofficer, impassible, with his drawn sword in his hand. The king passed, and all the crowd stood on tip-toe, to have one more look at him. 

Ten musketeers, opening the crowd of the ante-chambers and the steps, made way for his majesty. The other ten surrounded the king andMonsieur, who had insisted upon accompanying his majesty. The domesticswalked behind. This little cortege escorted the king to the chamberdestined for him. The apartment was the same that had been occupied byHenry III. During his sojourn in the States. 

Monsieur had given his orders. The musketeers, led by their officer, took possession of the little passage by which one wing of the castlecommunicates with the other. This passage was commenced by a smallsquare ante-chamber, dark even in the finest days. Monsieur stoppedLouis XIV. 

"You are passing now, sire, " said he, "the very spot where the Duc deGuise received the first stab of the poniard. "

The king was ignorant of all historical matters; he had heard of thefact, but he knew nothing of the localities or the details. 

"Ah!" said he with a shudder. 

And he stopped. The rest, both behind and before him, stopped likewise. 

"The duc, sire, " continued Gaston, "was nearly where I stand: he waswalking in the same direction as your majesty; M. De Lorgnes was exactlywhere your lieutenant of musketeers is; M. De Saint-Maline and hismajesty's ordinaries were behind him and around him. It was here that hewas struck. "

The king turned towards his officer, and saw something like a cloud passover his martial and daring countenance. 

"Yes, from behind!" murmured the lieutenant, with a gesture of supremedisdain. And he endeavored to resume the march, as if ill at ease atbeing between walls formerly defiled by treachery. 

But the king, who appeared to wish to be informed, was disposed to giveanother look at this dismal spot. 

Gaston perceived his nephew's desire. 

"Look, sire, " said he, taking a flambeau from the hands of M. DeSaint-Remy, "this is where he fell. There was a bed there, the curtainsof which he tore with catching at them. "

"Why does the floor seem hollowed out at this spot?" asked Louis. 

"Because it was here the blood flowed, " replied Gaston; "the bloodpenetrated deeply into the oak, and it was only by cutting it out thatthey succeeded in making it disappear. And even then, " added Gaston, pointing the flambeau to the spot, "even then this red stain resistedall the attempts made to destroy it. "

Louis XIV. Raised his head. Perhaps he was thinking of that bloody tracethat had once been shown him at the Louvre, and which, as a pendant tothat of Blois, had been made there one day by the king his father withthe blood of Concini. 

"Let us go on, " said he. 

The march was resumed promptly, for emotion, no doubt, had given to thevoice of the young prince a tone of command which was not customarywith him. When arrived at the apartment destined for the king, whichcommunicated not only with the little passage we have passed through, but further with the great staircase leading to the court, --

"Will your majesty, " said Gaston, "condescend to occupy this apartment, all unworthy as it is to receive you?"

"Uncle, " replied the young king, "I render you my thanks for yourcordial hospitality. "

Gaston bowed to his nephew, embraced him, and then went out. 

Of the twenty musketeers who had accompanied the king, tenreconducted Monsieur to the reception-rooms, which were not yet empty, notwithstanding the king had retired. 

The ten others were posted by their officer, who himself explored, infive minutes, all the localities, with that cold and certain glancewhich not even habit gives unless that glance belongs to genius. 

Then, when all were placed, he chose as his headquarters theante-chamber, in which he found a large fauteuil, a lamp, some wine, some water: and some dry bread. 

He refreshed his lamp, drank half a glass of wine, curled his lip witha smile full of expression, installed himself in his large armchair, andmade preparations for sleeping. 

CHAPTER 9. In which the Unknown of the Hostelry of Les Medici loses hisIncognito. 

This officer, who was sleeping, or preparing to sleep, was, notwithstanding his careless air, charged with a serious responsibility. 

Lieutenant of the king's musketeers, he commanded all the company whichcame from Paris, and that company consisted of a hundred and twenty men;but, with the exception of the twenty of whom we have spoken, the otherhundred were engaged in guarding the queen-mother, and more particularlythe cardinal. 

Monsignor Giulio Mazarini economized the traveling expenses of hisguards; he consequently used the king's, and that largely, since he tookfifty of them for himself--a peculiarity which would not have failed tostrike any one unacquainted with the usages of that court. 

That which would still further have appeared, if not inconvenient, atleast extraordinary, to a stranger, was, that the side of the castledestined for monsieur le cardinal was brilliant, light and cheerful. Themusketeers there mounted guard before every door, and allowed no one toenter, except the couriers, who, even while he was traveling, followedthe cardinal for the carrying on of his correspondence. 

Twenty men were on duty with the queen-mother; thirty rested, in orderto relieve their companions the next day. 

On the king's side, on the contrary, were darkness, silence, andsolitude. When once the doors were closed, there was no longer anappearance of royalty. All the servitors had by degrees retired. Monsieur le Prince had sent to know if his majesty required hisattendance; and on the customary "No" of the lieutenant of musketeers, who was habituated to the question and the reply, all appeared to sinkinto the arms of sleep, as if in the dwelling of a good citizen. 

And yet it was possible to hear from the side of the house occupied bythe young king the music of the banquet, and to see the windows of thegreat hall richly illuminated. 

Ten minutes after his installation in his apartment, Louis XIV. Had beenable to learn, by movement much more distinguished than marked his ownleaving, the departure of the cardinal, who, in his turn, sought hisbedroom, accompanied by a large escort of ladies and gentlemen. 

Besides, to perceive this movement, he had nothing to do but to look outat his window, the shutters of which had not been closed. 

His eminence crossed the court, conducted by Monsieur, who himself helda flambeau, then followed the queen-mother, to whom Madame familiarlygave her arm; and both walked chatting away, like two old friends. 

Behind these two couples filed nobles, ladies, pages and officers; theflambeaux gleamed over the whole court, like the moving reflections ofa conflagration. Then the noise of steps and voices became lost in theupper floors of the castle. 

No one was then thinking of the king, who, leaning on his elbow at hiswindow, had sadly seen pass away all that light, and heard that noisedie off--no, not one, if it was not that unknown of the hostelry desMedici, whom we have seen go out, enveloped in his cloak. 

He had come straight up to the castle, and had, with his melancholycountenance, wandered round and round the palace, from which thepeople had not yet departed; and finding that no one guarded the greatentrance, or the porch, seeing that the soldiers of Monsieur werefraternizing with the royal soldiers--that is to say swallowingBeaugency at discretion, or rather indiscretion--the unknown penetratedthrough the crowd, then ascended to the court, and came to the landingof the staircase leading to the cardinal's apartment. 

What, according to all probability, induced him to direct his steps thatway, was the splendor of the flambeaux, and the busy air of the pagesand domestics. But he was stopped short by a presented musket and thecry of the sentinel. 

"Where are you going, my friend?" asked the soldier. 

"I am going to the king's apartment, " replied the unknown, haughtily, but tranquilly. 

The soldier called one of his eminence's officers, who, in the tonein which a youth in office directs a solicitor to a minister, let fallthese words: "The other staircase, in front. "

And the officer, without further notice of the unknown, resumed hisinterrupted conversation. 

The stranger, without reply, directed his steps towards the staircasepointed out to him. On this side there was no noise, there were no moreflambeaux. 

Obscurity, through which a sentinel glided like a shadow; silence, whichpermitted him to hear the sound of his own footsteps, accompanied withthe jingling of his spurs upon the stone slabs. 

This guard was one of the twenty musketeers appointed for attendanceupon the king, and who mounted guard with the stiffness andconsciousness of a statue. 

"Who goes there?" said the guard. 

"A friend, " replied the unknown. 

"What do you want?"

"To speak to the king. "

"Do you, my dear monsieur? That's not very likely. "

"Why not?"

"Because the king has gone to bed. "

"Gone to bed already?"

"Yes. "

"No matter: I must speak to him. "

"And I tell you that is impossible. "

"And yet----"

"Go back!"

"Do you require the word?"

"I have no account to render to you. Stand back!"

And this time the soldier accompanied his word with a threateninggesture; but the unknown stirred no more than if his feet had takenroot. 

"Monsieur le mousquetaire, " said he, "are you a gentleman?"

"I have that honor. "

"Very well! I also am one, and between gentlemen some considerationought to be observed. "

The soldier lowered his arms, overcome by the dignity with which thesewords were pronounced. 

"Speak, monsieur, " said he; "and if you ask me anything in my power----"

"Thank you. You have an officer, have you not?"

"Our lieutenant? Yes, monsieur. "

"Well, I wish to speak to him. "

"Oh, that's a different thing. Come up, monsieur. "

The unknown saluted the soldier in a lofty fashion, and ascendedthe staircase; whilst a cry, "Lieutenant, a visit!" transmitted fromsentinel to sentinel, preceded the unknown, and disturbed the slumbersof the officer. 

Dragging on his boots, rubbing his eyes, and hooking his cloak, thelieutenant made three steps towards the stranger. 

"What can I do to serve you, monsieur?" asked he. 

"You are the officer on duty, lieutenant of the musketeers, are you?"

"I have that honor, " replied the officer. 

"Monsieur, I must absolutely speak to the king. "

The lieutenant looked attentively at the unknown, and in that look, however rapid, he saw all he wished to see--that is to say, a person ofhigh distinction in an ordinary dress. 

"I do not suppose you to be mad, " replied he; "and yet you seem to me tobe in a condition to know, monsieur, that people do not enter a king'sapartments in this manner without his consent. "

"He will consent. "

"Monsieur, permit me to doubt that. The king has retired this quarter ofan hour; he must be now undressing. Besides, the word is given. "

"When he knows who I am, he will recall the word. "

The officer was more and more surprised, more and more subdued. 

"If I consent to announce you, may I at least know whom to announce, monsieur?"

"You will announce His Majesty Charles II. , King of England, Scotland, and Ireland. "

The officer uttered a cry of astonishment, drew back, and there might beseen upon his pallid countenance one of the most poignant emotions thatever an energetic man endeavored to drive back to his heart. 

"Oh, yes, sire; in fact, " said he, "I ought to have recognized you. "

"You have seen my portrait, then?"

"No, sire. "

"Or else you have seen me formerly at court, before I was driven fromFrance?"

"No, sire, it is not even that. "

"How then could you have recognized me, if you have never seen myportrait or my person?"

"Sire, I saw his majesty your father at a terrible moment. "

"The day----"

"Yes. "

A dark cloud passed over the brow of the prince; then, dashing his handacross it, "Do you still see any difficulty in announcing me?" said he. 

"Sire, pardon me, " replied the officer, "but I could not imagine aking under so simple an exterior; and yet I had the honor to tell yourmajesty just now that I had seen Charles I. But pardon me, monsieur; Iwill go and inform the king. "

But returning after going a few steps, "Your majesty is desirous, without doubt, that this interview should be a secret?" said he. 

"I do not require it; but if it were possible to preserve it----"

"It is possible, sire, for I can dispense with informing the firstgentleman on duty; but, for that, your majesty must please to consent togive up your sword. "

"True, true; I had forgotten that no one armed is permitted to enter thechamber of a king of France. "

"Your majesty will form an exception, if you wish it; but then I shallavoid my responsibility by informing the king's attendant. "

"Here is my sword, monsieur. Will you now please to announce me to hismajesty?"

"Instantly, sire. " And the officer immediately went and knocked at thedoor of communication, which the valet opened to him. 

"His Majesty the King of England!" said the officer. 

"His Majesty the King of England!" replied the valet de chambre. 

At these words a gentleman opened the folding-doors of the king'sapartment, and Louis XIV. Was seen, without hat or sword, and hispourpoint open, advancing with signs of the greatest surprise. 

"You, my brother--you at Blois!" cried Louis XIV. , dismissing with agesture both the gentleman and the valet de chambre, who passed out intothe next apartment. 

"Sire, " replied Charles II. , "I was going to Paris, in the hope ofseeing your majesty, when report informed me of your approaching arrivalin this city. I therefore prolonged my abode here, having something veryparticular to communicate to you. "

"Will this closet suit you, my brother?"

"Perfectly well, sire; for I think no one can hear us here. "

"I have dismissed my gentleman and my watcher; they are in the nextchamber. There, behind that partition, is a solitary closet, lookinginto the ante-chamber, and in that ante-chamber you found nobody but asolitary officer, did you?"

"No, sire. "

"Well, then, speak, my brother; I listen to you. "

"Sire, I commence, and entreat your majesty to have pity on themisfortunes of our house. "

The king of France colored, and drew his chair closer to that of theking of England. 

"Sire, " said Charles II. , "I have no need to ask if your majesty isacquainted with the details of my deplorable history. "

Louis XIV. Blushed, this time more strongly than before; then, stretching forth his hand to that of the king of England, "My brother, "said he, "I am ashamed to say so, but the cardinal scarcely ever speaksof political affairs before me. Still more, formerly I used to getLaporte, my valet de chambre, to read historical subjects to me, but heput a stop to these readings, and took away Laporte from me. So thatI beg my brother Charles to tell me all those matters as to a man whoknows nothing. "

"Well, sire, I think that by taking things from the beginning I shallhave a better chance of touching the heart of your majesty. "

"Speak on, my brother--speak on. "

"You know, sire, that being called in 1650 to Edinburgh, duringCromwell's expedition into Ireland, I was crowned at Scone. A yearafter, wounded in one of the provinces he had usurped, Cromwell returnedupon us. To meet him was my object; to leave Scotland was my wish. "

"And yet, " interrupted the young king, "Scotland is almost your nativecountry, is it not, my brother?"

"Yes; but the Scots were cruel compatriots for me, sire; they had forcedme to forsake the religion of my fathers; they had hung Lord Montrose, the most devoted of my servants, because he was not a Covenanter; and asthe poor martyr, to whom they had offered a favor when dying, had askedthat his body might be cut into as many pieces as there are citiesin Scotland, in order that evidence of his fidelity might be met witheverywhere, I could not leave one city, or go into another, withoutpassing under some fragments of a body which had acted, fought, andbreathed for me. 

"By a bold, almost desperate march, I passed through Cromwell's army, and entered England. The Protector set out in pursuit of this strangeflight, which had a crown for its object. If I had been able to reachLondon before him, without doubt the prize of the race would have beenmine; but he overtook me at Worcester. 

"The genius of England was no longer with us, but with him. On the 5thof September, 1651, sire, the anniversary of the other battle of Dunbar, so fatal to the Scots, I was conquered. Two thousand men fell around mebefore I thought of retreating a step. At length I was obliged to fly. 

"From that moment my history became a romance. Pursued with persistentinveteracy, I cut off my hair, I disguised myself as a woodman. One dayspent amidst the branches of an oak gave to that tree the name of theroyal oak, which it bears to this day. My adventures in the county ofStafford, whence I escaped with the daughter of my host on a pillionbehind me, still fill the tales of the country firesides, and wouldfurnish matter for ballads. I will some day write all this, sire, forthe instruction of my brother kings. 

"I will first tell how, on arriving at the residence of Mr. Norton, I met with a court chaplain, who was looking on at a party playing atskittles, and an old servant who named me, bursting into tears, and whowas as near and as certainly killing me by his fidelity as another mighthave been by treachery. Then I will tell of my terrors--yes, sire, ofmy terrors--when, at the house of Colonel Windham, a farrier who came toshoe our horses declared they had been shod in the north. "

"How strange!" murmured Louis XIV. "I never heard anything of all that;I was only told of your embarkation at Brighthelmstone and your landingin Normandy. "

"Oh!" exclaimed Charles, "if Heaven permits kings to be thus ignorantof the histories of each other, how can they render assistance to theirbrothers who need it?"

"But tell me, " continued Louis XIV. , "how, after being so roughlyreceived in England, you can still hope for anything from that unhappycountry and that rebellious people?"

"Oh, sire! since the battle of Worcester, everything is changed there. Cromwell is dead, after having signed a treaty with France, in whichhis name is placed above yours. He died on the 5th of September, 1658, afresh anniversary of the battles of Dunbar and Worcester. "

"His son has succeeded him. "

"But certain men have a family, sire, and no heir. The inheritance ofOliver was too heavy for Richard. Richard was neither a republican nor aroyalist; Richard allowed his guards to eat his dinner, and his generalsto govern the republic; Richard abdicated the protectorate on the 22ndof April, 1659, more than a year ago, sire. 

"From that time England is nothing but a tennis-court, in which theplayers throw dice for the crown of my father. The two most eagerplayers are Lambert and Monk. Well, sire, I, in my turn, wish to takepart in this game, where the stakes are thrown upon my royal mantle. Sire, it only requires a million to corrupt one of these players andmake an ally of him, or two hundred of your gentlemen to drive them outof my palace at Whitehall, as Christ drove the money-changers from thetemple. "

"You come, then, " replied Louis XIV. , "to ask me----"

"For your assistance, that is to say, not only for that which kings oweto each other, but that which simple Christians owe to each other--yourassistance, sire, either in money or men. Your assistance, sire, andwithin a month, whether I oppose Lambert to Monk, or Monk to Lambert, Ishall have reconquered my paternal inheritance, without having cost mycountry a guinea, or my subjects a drop of blood, for they are now alldrunk with revolutions, protectorates, and republics, and ask nothingbetter than to fall staggering to sleep in the arms of royalty. Yourassistance, sire, and I shall owe you more than I owe my father, --mypoor father, who bought at so dear a rate the ruin of our house! You mayjudge, sire, whether I am unhappy, whether I am in despair, for I accusemy own father!"

And the blood mounted to the pale face of Charles II. , who remained foran instant with his head between his hands, and as if blinded by thatblood which appeared to revolt against the filial blasphemy. 

The young king was not less affected than his elder brother; he threwhimself about in his fauteuil, and could not find a single word ofreply. 

Charles II. , to whom ten years in age gave a superior strength to masterhis emotions, recovered his speech the first. 

"Sire, " said he, "your reply? I wait for it as a criminal waits for hissentence. Must I die?"

"My brother, " replied the French prince, "you ask me for a million--me, who was never possessed of a quarter of that sum! I possess nothing. Iam no more king of France than you are king of England. I am a name, a cipher dressed in fleur-de-lised velvet, --that is all. I am upon avisible throne; that is my only advantage over your majesty. I havenothing--I can do nothing. "

"Can it be so?" exclaimed Charles II. 

"My brother, " said Louis, sinking his voice, "I have undergone miserieswith which my poorest gentlemen are unacquainted. If my poor Laportewere here, he would tell you that I have slept in ragged sheets, through the holes of which my legs have passed; he would tell you thatafterwards, when I asked for carriages, they brought me conveyanceshalf-destroyed by the rats of the coach-houses; he would tell you thatwhen I asked for my dinner, the servants went to the cardinal's kitchento inquire if there were any dinner for the king. And look! to-day, thisvery day even, when I am twenty-two years of age, --to-day, when I haveattained the grade of the majority of kings, --to-day, when I ought tohave the key of the treasury, the direction of the policy, the supremacyin peace and war, --cast your eyes around me, see how I am left! Lookat this abandonment--this disdain--this silence!--Whilst yonder--lookyonder! View the bustle, the lights, the homage! There!--there you seethe real king of France, my brother!

"In the cardinal's apartments?"

"Yes, in the cardinal's apartments. "

"Then I am condemned, sire?"

Louis XIV. Made no reply. 

"Condemned is the word; for I will never solicit him who left my motherand sister to die with cold and hunger--the daughter and grand-daughterof Henry IV. --if M. De Retz and the parliament had not sent them woodand bread. "

"To die?" murmured Louis XIV. 

"Well!" continued the king of England, "poor Charles II. , grandson ofHenry IV. As you are, sire, having neither parliament nor Cardinalde Retz to apply to, will die of hunger, as his mother and sister hadnearly done. "

Louis knitted his brow, and twisted violently the lace of his ruffles. 

This prostration, this immobility, serving as a mark to an emotion sovisible, struck Charles II. , and he took the young man's hand. 

"Thanks!" said he, "my brother. You pity me, and that is all I canrequire of you in your present situation. "

"Sire, " said Louis XIV. , with a sudden impulse, and raising his head, "it is a million you require, or two hundred gentlemen, I think yousay?"

"Sire, a million would be quite sufficient. "

"That is very little. "

"Offered to a single man it is a great deal. Convictions have beenpurchased at a much lower price; and I should have nothing to do butwith venalities. "

"Two hundred gentlemen! Reflect!--that is little more than a singlecompany. "

"Sire, there is in our family a tradition, and that is, that four men, four French gentlemen, devoted to my father, were near saving my father, though condemned by a parliament, guarded by an army and surrounded by anation. "

"Then if I can procure you a million, or two hundred gentlemen, you willbe satisfied; and you will consider me your well-affectioned brother?"

"I shall consider you as my saviour; and if I recover the throne ofmy father, England will be, as long as I reign at least, a sister toFrance, as you will have been a brother to me. "

"Well, my brother, " said Louis, rising, "what you hesitate to ask for, I will myself demand; that which I have never done on my own account, Iwill do on yours. I will go and find the king of France--the other--therich, the powerful one, I mean. I will myself solicit this million, orthese two hundred gentlemen; and--we will see. "

"Oh!" cried Charles, "you are a noble friend, sire--a heart created byGod! You save me, my brother; and if you should ever stand in need ofthe life you restore me, demand it. "

"Silence, my brother, --silence!" said Louis, in a suppressed voice. "Take care that no one hears you! We have not obtained our end yet. To ask money of Mazarin--that is worse than traversing the enchantedforest, each tree of which inclosed a demon. It is more than setting outto conquer a world. "

"But yet, sire, when you ask it----"

"I have already told you that I never asked, " replied Louis with ahaughtiness that made the king of England turn pale. 

And as the latter, like a wounded man, made a retreatingmovement--"Pardon me, my brother, " replied he. "I have neither a mothernor a sister who are suffering. My throne is hard and naked, but I amfirmly seated on my throne. Pardon me that expression, my brother; itwas that of an egotist. I will retract it, therefore, by a sacrifice, --Iwill go to monsieur le cardinal. Wait for me, if you please--I willreturn. "

CHAPTER 10. The Arithmetic of M. De Mazarin

Whilst the king was directing his course rapidly towards the wing of thecastle occupied by the cardinal, taking nobody with him but his valetde chambre, the officer of musketeers came out, breathing like a manwho has for a long time been forced to hold his breath, from the littlecabinet of which we have already spoken, and which the king believedto be quite solitary. This little cabinet had formerly been part ofthe chamber, from which it was only separated by a thin partition. Itresulted that this partition, which was only for the eye, permitted theear the least indiscreet to hear every word spoken in the chamber. 

There was no doubt, then, that this lieutenant of musketeers had heardall that passed in his majesty's apartment. 

Warned by the last words of the young king, he came out just in time tosalute him on his passage, and to follow him with his eyes till he haddisappeared in the corridor. 

Then as soon as he had disappeared, he shook his head after a fashionpeculiarly his own, and in a voice which forty years' absence fromGascony had not deprived of its Gascon accent, "A melancholy service, "said he, "and a melancholy master!"

These words pronounced, the lieutenant resumed his place in hisfauteuil, stretched his legs and closed his eyes, like a man who eithersleeps or meditates. 

During this short monologue and the mise en scene that had accompaniedit, whilst the king, through the long corridors of the old castle, proceeded to the apartment of M. De Mazarin, a scene of another sort wasbeing enacted in those apartments. 

Mazarin was in bed, suffering a little from the gout. But as he was aman of order, who utilized even pain, he forced his wakefulness to bethe humble servant of his labor. He had consequently ordered Bernouin, his valet de chambre, to bring him a little traveling-desk, so that hemight write in bed. But the gout is not an adversary that allows itselfto be conquered so easily; therefore, at each movement he made, the painfrom dull became sharp. 

"Is Brienne there?" asked he of Bernouin. 

"No, monseigneur, " replied the valet de chambre; "M. De Brienne, with your permission, is gone to bed. But, if it is the wish of youreminence, he can speedily be called. "

"No, it is not worth while. Let us see, however. Cursed ciphers!"

And the cardinal began to think, counting on his fingers the while. 

"Oh, ciphers is it?" said Bernouin. "Very well! if your eminenceattempts calculations, I will promise you a pretty headache to-morrow!And with that please to remember M. Guenaud is not here. "

"You are right, Bernouin. You must take Brienne's place, my friend. Indeed, I ought to have brought M. Colbert with me. That young man goeson very well, Bernouin, very well; a very orderly youth. "

"I do not know, " said the valet de chambre, "but I don't like thecountenance of your young man who goes on so well. "

"Well, well, Bernouin! We don't stand in need of your advice. Placeyourself there: take the pen and write. "

"I am ready, monseigneur; what am I to write?"

"There, that's the place: after the two lines already traced. "

"I am there. "

"Write seven hundred and sixty thousand livres. "

"That is written. "

"Upon Lyons----" The cardinal appeared to hesitate. 

"Upon Lyons, " repeated Bernouin. 

"Three millions nine hundred thousand livres. "

"Well, monseigneur?"

"Upon Bordeaux seven millions. "

"Seven?" repeated Bernouin. 

"Yes, " said the cardinal, pettishly, "seven. " Then, recollectinghimself, "You understand, Bernouin, " added he, "that all this money isto be spent?"

"Eh! monseigneur; whether it be to be spent or put away is of verylittle consequence to me, since none of these millions are mine. "

"These millions are the king's; it is the king's money I am reckoning. Well, what were we saying? You always interrupt me!"

"Seven millions upon Bordeaux. "

"Ah! yes; that's right. Upon Madrid four millions. I give you tounderstand plainly to whom this money belongs, Bernouin, seeing thateverybody has the stupidity to believe me rich in millions. I repel thesilly idea. A minister, besides, has nothing of his own. Come, go on. Rentrees generales, seven millions; properties, nine millions. Have youwritten that, Bernouin?"

"Yes, monseigneur. "

"Bourse, six hundred thousand livres; various property, two millions. Ah! I forgot--the furniture of the different chateaux----"

"Must I put of the crown?" asked Bernouin. 

"No, no, it is of no use doing that--that is understood. Have youwritten that, Bernouin?"

"Yes, monseigneur. "

"And the ciphers?"

"Stand straight under one another. "

"Cast them up, Bernouin. "

"Thirty-nine millions two hundred and sixty thousand livres, monseigneur. "

"Ah!" cried the cardinal, in a tone of vexation; "there are not yetforty millions!"

Bernouin recommenced the addition. 

"No, monseigneur; there want seven hundred and forty thousand livres. "

Mazarin asked for the account, and revised it carefully. 

"Yes, but, " said Bernouin, "thirty-nine millions two hundred and sixtythousand livres make a good round sum. "

"Ah, Bernouin, I wish the king had it. "

"Your eminence told me that this money was his majesty's. "

"Doubtless, as clear, as transparent as possible. These thirty-ninemillions are bespoken, and much more. "

Bernouin smiled after his own fashion--that is, like a man who believesno more than he is willing to believe--whilst preparing the cardinal'snight draught, and putting his pillow to rights. 

"Oh!" said Mazarin, when the valet had gone out; "not yet fortymillions! I must, however, attain that sum, which I had set down formyself. But who knows whether I shall have time? I sink, I am going, I shall never reach it! And yet, who knows that I may not find two orthree millions in the pockets of my good friends the Spaniards? Theydiscovered Peru, those people did, and--what the devil! they must havesomething left. "

As he was speaking thus, entirely occupied with his ciphers, andthinking no more of his gout, repelled by a preoccupation which, withthe cardinal, was the most powerful of all preoccupations, Bernouinrushed into the chamber, quite in a fright. 

"Well!" asked the cardinal, "what is the matter now?"

"The king, monseigneur, --the king!"

"How?--the king!" said Mazarin, quickly concealing his paper. "The kinghere! the king at this hour! I thought he was in bed long ago. What isthe matter, then?"

The king could hear these last words, and see the terrified gesture ofthe cardinal rising up in his bed, for he entered the chamber at thatmoment. 

"It is nothing, monsieur le cardinal, or at least nothing which canalarm you. It is an important communication which I wish to make to youreminence to-night--that is all. "

Mazarin immediately thought of that marked attention which the kinghad given to his words concerning Mademoiselle de Mancini, and thecommunication appeared to him probably to refer to this source. Herecovered his serenity then instantly, and assumed his most agreeableair, a change of countenance which inspired the king with the greatestjoy; and when Louis was seated, --

"Sire, " said the cardinal, "I ought certainly to listen to your majestystanding, but the violence of my complaint----"

"No ceremony between us, my dear monsieur le cardinal, " said Louiskindly: "I am your pupil, and not the king, you know very well, and thisevening in particular, as I come to you as a petitioner, as a solicitor, and one very humble, and desirous to be kindly received, too. "

Mazarin, seeing the heightened color of the king, was confirmed in hisfirst idea; that is to say, that love thoughts were hidden under allthese fine words. This time, political cunning, keen as it was, madea mistake; this color was not caused by the bashfulness of a juvenilepassion, but only by the painful contraction of the royal pride. 

Like a good uncle, Mazarin felt disposed to facilitate the confidence. 

"Speak, sire, " said he, "and since your majesty is willing for aninstant to forget that I am your subject, and call me your masterand instructor, I promise your majesty my most devoted and tenderconsideration. "

"Thanks, monsieur le cardinal, " answered the king; "that which I have toask of your eminence has but little to do with myself. "

"So much the worse!" replied the cardinal, "so much the worse! Sire, Ishould wish your majesty to ask of me something of importance, even asacrifice; but whatever it may be that you ask me, I am ready to setyour heart at rest by granting it, my dear sire. "

"Well, this is what brings me here, " said the king, with a beatingof the heart that had no equal except the beating of the heart of theminister; "I have just received a visit from my brother, the king ofEngland. "

Mazarin bounded in his bed as if he had been put in relation with aLeyden jar or a voltaic pile, at the same time that a surprise, orrather a manifest disappointment, inflamed his features with such ablaze of anger, that Louis XIV. , little diplomatist as he was, saw thatthe minister had hoped to hear something else. 

"Charles II. ?" exclaimed Mazarin, with a hoarse voice and a disdainfulmovement of his lips. "You have received a visit from Charles II. ?"

"From King Charles II. , " replied Louis, according in a marked manner tothe grandson of Henry IV. The title which Mazarin had forgotten to givehim. "Yes, monsieur le cardinal, that unhappy prince has touched myheart with the relation of his misfortunes. His distress is great, monsieur le cardinal, and it has appeared painful to me, who have seenmy own throne disputed, who have been forced in times of commotionto quit my capital, --to me, in short, who am acquainted withmisfortune, --to leave a deposed and fugitive brother withoutassistance. "

"Eh!" said the cardinal, sharply; "why had he not, as you have, a JulesMazarin by his side? His crown would then have remained intact. "

"I know all that my house owes to your eminence, " replied the king, haughtily, "and you may believe well that I, on my part, shall neverforget it. It is precisely because my brother the king of England hasnot about him the powerful genius who has saved me, it is for that, Isay, that I wish to conciliate the aid of that same genius, and beg youto extend your arm over his head, well assured, monsieur le cardinal, that your hand, by touching him only, would know how to replace upon hisbrow the crown which fell at the foot of his father's scaffold. "

"Sire, " replied Mazarin, "I thank you for your good opinion with regardto myself, but we have nothing to do yonder: they are a set of madmenwho deny God, and cut off the heads of their kings. They are dangerous, observe, sire, and filthy to the touch after having wallowed in royalblood and covenantal murder. That policy has never suited me, --I scornit and reject it. "

"Therefore you ought to assist in establishing a better. "

"What is that?"

"The restoration of Charles II. , for example. "

"Good heavens!" cried Mazarin, "does the poor prince flatter himselfwith that chimera?"

"Yes, he does, " replied the young king, terrified at the difficultiesopposed to this project, which he fancied he could perceive in theinfallible eye of his minister; "he only asks for a million to carry outhis purpose. "

"Is that all--a little million, if you please!" said the cardinal, ironically, with an effort to conquer his Italian accent. "A littlemillion, if you please, brother! Bah! a family of mendicants!"

"Cardinal, " said Louis, raising his head, "that family of mendicants isa branch of my family. "

"Are you rich enough to give millions to other people, sire? Have youmillions to throw away?"

"Oh!" replied Louis XIV. , with great pain, which he, however, by astrong effort, prevented from appearing on his countenance;--"oh! yes, monsieur le cardinal, I am well aware I am poor, and yet the crown ofFrance is worth a million, and to perform a good action I would pledgemy crown if it were necessary. I could find Jews who would be willing tolend me a million. "

"So, sire, you say you want a million?" said Mazarin. 

"Yes, monsieur, I say so. "

"You are mistaken, greatly mistaken, sire; you want much more thanthat, --Bernouin!--you shall see, sire, how much you really want. "

"What, cardinal!" said the king, "are you going to consult a lackeyabout my affairs?"

"Bernouin!" cried the cardinal again, without appearing to remark thehumiliation of the young prince. "Come here, Bernouin, and tell me thefigures I gave you just now. "

"Cardinal, cardinal! did you not hear me?" said Louis, turning pale withanger. 

"Do not be angry, sire; I deal openly with the affairs of your majesty. Every one in France knows that; my books are as open as day. What did Itell you to do just now, Bernouin?"

"Your eminence commanded me to cast up an account. "

"You did it, did you not?"

"Yes, my lord. "

"To verify the amount of which his majesty, at this moment, stands inneed. Did I not tell you so? Be frank, my friend. "

"Your eminence said so. "

"Well, what sum did I say I wanted?"

"Forty-five millions, I think. "

"And what sum could we find, after collecting all our resources?"

"Thirty-nine millions two hundred and sixty thousand. "

"That is correct, Bernouin; that is all I wanted to know. Leave us now, "said the cardinal, fixing his brilliant eye upon the young king, who satmute with stupefaction. 

"However----" stammered the king. 

"What, do you still doubt, sire?" said the cardinal. "Well, here is aproof of what I said. "

And Mazarin drew from under his bolster the paper covered with figures, which he presented to the king, who turned away his eyes, his vexationwas so deep. 

"Therefore, as it is a million you want, sire, and that million is notset down here, it is forty-six millions your majesty stands in need of. Well I don't think that any Jews in the world would lend such a sum, even upon the crown of France. "

The king, clenching his hands beneath his ruffles, pushed away hischair. 

"So it must be then!" said he, "my brother the king of England will dieof hunger. "

"Sire, " replied Mazarin, in the same tone, "remember this proverb, whichI give you as the expression of the soundest policy: 'Rejoice at beingpoor when your neighbor is poor likewise. '"

Louis meditated for a few moments, with an inquisitive glance directedto the paper, one end of which remained under the bolster. 

"Then, " said he, "it is impossible to comply with my demand for money, my lord cardinal, is it?"

"Absolutely, sire. "

"Remember, this will secure me a future enemy, if he succeed inrecovering his crown without my assistance. "

"If your majesty only fears that, you may be quite at ease, " repliedMazarin, eagerly. 

"Very well, I say no more about it, " exclaimed Louis XIV. 

"Have I at least convinced you, sire?" placing his hand upon that of theyoung king. 

"Perfectly. "

"If there be anything else, ask it, sire, I shall be most happy to grantit to you, having refused this. "

"Anything else, my lord?"

"Why yes, am I not devoted body and soul to your majesty? Hola!Bernouin!--lights and guards for his majesty! His majesty is returningto his own chamber. "

"Not yet, monsieur: since you place your good-will at my disposal, Iwill take advantage of it. "

"For yourself, sire?" asked the cardinal, hoping that his niece was atlength about to be named. 

"No, monsieur, not for myself, " replied Louis, "but still for my brotherCharles. "

The brow of Mazarin again became clouded, and he grumbled a few wordsthat the king could not catch. 

CHAPTER 11. Mazarin's Policy

Instead of the hesitation with which he had accosted the cardinal aquarter of an hour before, there might be read in the eyes of the youngking that will against which a struggle might be maintained, and whichmight be crushed by its own impotence, but which, at least, wouldpreserve, like a wound in the depth of the heart, the remembrance of itsdefeat. 

"This time, my lord cardinal, we have to deal with something more easilyfound than a million. "

"Do you think so, sire?" said Mazarin, looking at the king with thatpenetrating eye which was accustomed to read to the bottom of hearts. 

"Yes, I think so; and when you know the object of my request----"

"And do you think I do not know it, sire?"

"You know what remains for me to say to you?"

"Listen, sire; these are King Charles's own words----"

"Oh, impossible!"

"Listen. 'And if that miserly, beggarly Italian, ' said he----"

"My lord cardinal!"

"That is the sense, if not the words. Eh! Good heavens! I wish him noill on that account, one is biased by his passions. He said to you: 'Ifthat vile Italian refuses the million we ask of him, sire, --if we areforced, for want of money, to renounce diplomacy, well, then, we willask him to grant us five hundred gentlemen. '"

The king started, for the cardinal was only mistaken in the number. 

"Is not that it, sire?" cried the minister, with a triumphant accent. "And then he added some fine words: he said, 'I have friends on theother side of the channel, and these friends only want a leader and abanner. When they see me, when they behold the banner of France, theywill rally round me, for they will comprehend that I have your support. The colors of the French uniform will be worth as much to me as themillion M. De Mazarin refuses us, '--for he was pretty well assuredI should refuse him that million. --'I shall conquer with these fivehundred gentlemen, sire, and all the honor will be yours. ' Now, that iswhat he said, or to that purpose, was it not?--turning those plain wordsinto brilliant metaphors and pompous images, for they are fine talkersin that family! The father talked even on the scaffold. "

The perspiration of shame stood upon the brow of Louis. He felt that itwas inconsistent with his dignity to hear his brother thus insulted, buthe did not yet know how to act with him to whom every one yielded, evenhis mother. At last he made an effort. 

"But, " said he, "my lord cardinal, it is not five hundred men, it isonly two hundred. "

"Well, but you see I guessed what he wanted. "

"I never denied that you had a penetrating eye, and that was why Ithought you would not refuse my brother Charles a thing so simple and soeasy to grant him as what I ask of you in his name, my lord cardinal, orrather in my own. "

"Sire, " said Mazarin, "I have studied policy thirty years; first, underthe auspices of M. Le Cardinal de Richelieu; and then alone. This policyhas not always been over-honest, it must be allowed, but it has neverbeen unskillful. Now that which is proposed to your majesty is dishonestand unskillful at the same time. "

"Dishonest, monsieur!"

"Sire, you entered into a treaty with Cromwell. "

"Yes, and in that very treaty Cromwell signed his name above mine. "

"Why did you sign yours so low down, sire? Cromwell found a good place, and he took it; that was his custom. I return, then, to M. Cromwell. You have a treaty with him, that is to say, with England, since when yousigned that treaty M. Cromwell was England. "

"M. Cromwell is dead. "

"Do you think so, sire?"

"No doubt he is, since his son Richard has succeeded him, and hasabdicated. "

"Yes, that is it exactly. Richard inherited after the death of hisfather, and England at the abdication of Richard. The treaty formed partof the inheritance, whether in the hands of M. Richard or in the handsof England. The treaty is, then, still as good, as valid as ever. Whyshould you evade it, sire? What is changed? Charles wants to-day what wewere not willing to grant him ten years ago; but that was foreseen andprovided against. You are the ally of England, sire, and not of CharlesII. It was doubtless wrong, from a family point of view, to sign atreaty with a man who had cut off the head of the king your father'sbrother-in-law, and to contract an alliance with a parliament which theycall yonder the Rump Parliament; it was unbecoming, I acknowledge, butit was not unskillful from a political point of view, since, thanks tothat treaty, I saved your majesty, then a minor, the trouble and dangerof a foreign war, which the Fronde--you remember the Fronde sire?"--theyoung king hung his head--"which the Fronde might have fatallycomplicated. And thus I prove to your majesty that to change ourplan now; without warning our allies, would be at once unskillful anddishonest. We should make war with the aggression on our side, we shouldmake it, deserving to have it made against us, and we should have theappearance of fearing it whilst provoking it, for a permission grantedto five hundred men, to two hundred men, to fifty men, to ten men, isstill a permission. One Frenchman, that is the nation; one uniform, that is the army. Suppose, sire, for example, that, sooner or later, you should have war with Holland, which, sooner or later, will certainlyhappen; or with Spain, which will perhaps ensue if your marriage fails"(Mazarin stole a furtive glance at the king), "and there are a thousandcauses that might yet make your marriage fail, --well, would you approveof England's sending to the United Provinces or to Spain a regiment, a company, a squadron even, of English gentlemen? Would you think thatthey kept within the limits of their treaty of alliance?"

Louis listened; it seemed so strange to him that Mazarin should invokegood faith, and he the author of so many political tricks, calledMazarinades. "And yet, " said the king, "without any manifestauthorization, I cannot prevent gentlemen of my states from passing overinto England, if such should be their good pleasure. "

"You should compel them to return, sire, or at least protest againsttheir presence as enemies in an allied country. "

"But come, my lord cardinal, you who are so profound a genius, try ifyou cannot find means to assist this poor king, without compromisingourselves. "

"And that is exactly what I am not willing to do, my dear sire, " saidMazarin. "If England were to act exactly according to my wishes, shecould not act better than she does; if I directed the policy of Englandfrom this place, I should not direct it otherwise. Governed as sheis governed, England is an eternal nest of contention for all Europe. Holland protects Charles II. , let Holland do so; they will quarrel, theywill fight. They are the only two maritime powers. Let them destroy eachother's navies, we can construct ours with the wrecks of their vessels;when we shall save our money to buy nails. "

"Oh, how paltry and mean is all this that you are telling me, monsieurle cardinal!"

"Yes, but nevertheless it is true, sire; you must confess that. Stillfurther. Suppose I admit, for a moment, the possibility of breaking yourword, and evading the treaty--such a thing sometimes happens, but thatis when some great interest is to be promoted by it, or when the treatyis found to be too troublesome--well, you will authorize the engagementasked of you: France--her banner, which is the same thing--will crossthe Straits and will fight; France will be conquered. "

"Why so?"

"Ma foi! we have a pretty general to fight under this Charles II. !Worcester gave us good proofs of that. "

"But he will no longer have to deal with Cromwell, monsieur. "

"But he will have to deal with Monk, who is quite as dangerous. Thebrave brewer of whom we are speaking was a visionary; he had moments ofexaltation, of inflation, during which he ran over like an over-filledcask; and from the chinks there always escaped some drops of histhoughts, and by the sample the whole of his thought was to be made out. Cromwell has thus allowed us more than ten times to penetrate into hisvery soul, when one would have conceived that soul to be enveloped intriple brass, as Horace has it. But Monk! Oh, sire, God defend you fromever having anything to transact politically with Monk. It is he who hasgiven me, in one year, all the gray hairs I have. Monk is no fanatic;unfortunately he is a politician; he does not overflow, he keeps closetogether. For ten years he has had his eyes fixed upon one object, andnobody has yet been able to ascertain what. Every morning, as Louis XI. Advised, he burns his nightcap. Therefore, on the day when thisplan slowly and solitarily ripened, shall break forth, it will breakforthwith all the conditions of success which always accompany anunforeseen event. That is Monk, sire, of whom perhaps, you have neverheard--of whom, perhaps, you did not even know the name before yourbrother Charles II. , who knows what he is, pronounced it before you. He is a marvel of depth and tenacity, the two only things against whichintelligence and ardor are blunted. Sire, I had ardor when I wasyoung, I always was intelligent. I may safely boast of it, because Iam reproached with it. I have done very well with these two qualities, since, from the son of a fisherman of Piscina, I have become primeminister to the king of France; and in that position your majesty willperhaps acknowledge I have rendered some service to the throne ofyour majesty. Well, sire, if I had met with Monk on my way, instead ofMonsieur de Beaufort, Monsieur de Retz, or Monsieur le Prince--well, weshould have been ruined. If you engage yourself rashly, sire, you willfall into the talons of this politic soldier. The casque of Monk, sire, is an iron coffer, in the recesses of which he shuts up his thoughts, and no one has the key of it. Therefore, near him, or rather before him, I bow, sire, for I have nothing but a velvet cap. "

"What do you think Monk wishes to do, then?"

"Eh! sire, if I knew that, I would not tell you to mistrust him, forI should be stronger than he; but with him, I am afraid to guess--toguess!--you understand my word?--for if I thought I had guessed, Ishould stop at an idea, and, in spite of myself, should pursue thatidea. Since that man has been in power yonder, I am like one of thedamned in Dante whose neck Satan has twisted, and who walk forwardlooking behind them. I am traveling towards Madrid, but I never losesight of London. To guess, with that devil of a man, is to deceive one'sself, and to deceive one's self is to ruin one's self. God keep me fromever seeking to guess what he aims at; I confine myself to watching whathe does, and that is well enough. Now I believe--you observe the meaningof the word I believe?--I believe, with respect to Monk, ties one tonothing--I believe that he has a strong inclination to succeed Cromwell. Your Charles II. Has already caused proposals to be made to him by tenpersons; he has satisfied himself with driving these ten meddlers fromhis presence, without saying anything to them but, 'Begone, or Iwill have you hung. ' That man is a sepulcher! At this moment Monk isaffecting devotion to the Rump Parliament; of this devotion, observe, Iam not the dupe. Monk has no wish to be assassinated, --an assassinationwould stop him in the midst of his operations, and his work must beaccomplished;--so I believe--but do not believe, what I believe, sire:for I say I believe from habit--I believe that Monk is keeping onfriendly terms with the parliament till the day comes for dispersingit. You are asked for swords, but they are to fight against Monk. Godpreserve you from fighting against Monk sire; for Monk would beat us, and I should never console myself after being beaten by Monk. I shouldsay to myself, Monk has foreseen that victory ten years. For God'ssake, sire, out of friendship for you, if not out of consideration forhimself, let Charles II. Keep quiet. Your majesty will give him a littleincome here; give him one of your chateaux. Yes, yes--wait awhile. ButI forgot the treaty--that famous treaty of which we were just nowspeaking. Your majesty has not even the right to give him a chateau. "

"How is that?"

"Yes, yes, your majesty is bound not to grant hospitality to KingCharles, and to compel him to leave France even. It was on this accountwe forced him to quit you, and yet here he is again. Sire, I hope youwill give your brother to understand that he cannot remain with us; thatit is impossible he should be allowed to compromise us, or I myself----"

"Enough, my lord, " said Louis XIV, rising. "In refusing me a million, perhaps you may be right; your millions are your own. In refusing me twohundred gentlemen, you are still further in the right; for you are primeminister, and you have, in the eyes of France, the responsibility ofpeace and war. But that you should pretend to prevent me, who am king, from extending my hospitality to the grandson of Henry IV. , to mycousin-german, to the companion of my childhood--there your power stops, and there begins my will. "

"Sire, " said Mazarin, delighted at being let off so cheaply, and whohad, besides, only fought so earnestly to arrive at that, --"sire, Ishall always bend before the will of my king. Let my king, then, keepnear him, or in one of his chateaux, the king of England; let Mazarinknow it, but let not the minister know it. "

"Good-night, my lord, " said Louis XIV. , "I go away in despair. "

"But convinced, and that is all I desire, sire, " replied Mazarin. 

The king made no answer, and retired quite pensive, convinced, not ofall Mazarin had told him, but of one thing which he took care not tomention to him; and that was, that it was necessary for him to studyseriously both his own affairs and those of Europe, for he found themvery difficult and very obscure. Louis found the king of England seatedin the same place where he had left him. On perceiving him, the Englishprince arose; but at the first glance he saw discouragement writtenin dark letters upon his cousin's brow. Then, speaking first, as if tofacilitate the painful avowal that Louis had to make to him, --

"Whatever it may be, " said he, "I shall never forget all the kindness, all the friendship you have exhibited towards me. "

"Alas!" replied Louis, in a melancholy tone, "only barren good-will, mybrother. "

Charles II. Became extremely pale; he passed his cold hand over hisbrow, and struggled for a few instants against a faintness that made himtremble. "I understand, " said he at last; "no more hope!"

Louis seized the hand of Charles II. "Wait, my brother, " said he;"precipitate nothing, everything may change; hasty resolutions ruin allcauses, add another year of trial, I implore you, to the years you havealready undergone. You have, to induce you to act now rather thanat another time, neither occasion nor opportunity. Come with me, mybrother; I will give you one of my residences, whichever you prefer, toinhabit. I, with you, will keep my eyes upon events; we will prepare. Come, then, my brother, have courage!"

Charles II. Withdrew his hand from that of the king, and drawing back, to salute him with more ceremony, "With all my heart, thanks!" repliedhe, "sire; but I have prayed without success to the greatest king onearth; now I will go and ask a miracle of God. " And he went out withoutbeing willing to hear any more, his head carried loftily, his handtrembling, with a painful contraction of his noble countenance, and thatprofound gloom which, finding no more hope in the world of men, appeared to go beyond it, and ask it in worlds unknown. The officer ofmusketeers, on seeing him pass by thus pale, bowed almost to his kneesas he saluted him. He then took a flambeau, called two musketeers, anddescended the deserted staircase with the unfortunate king, holding inhis left hand his hat, the plume of which swept the steps. Arrived atthe door, the musketeer asked the king which way he was going, that hemight direct the musketeers. 

"Monsieur, " replied Charles II. , in a subdued voice, "you who have knownmy father, say, did you ever pray for him? If you have done so, do notforget me in your prayers. Now, I am going alone, and beg of you not toaccompany me, or have me accompanied any further. "

The officer bowed and sent away the musketeers into the interior of thepalace. But he himself remained an instant under the porch watching thedeparting Charles II. , till he was lost in the turn of the next street. "To him as to his father formerly, " murmured he, "Athos, if hewere here, would say with reason, --'Salute fallen majesty!'" Then, reascending the staircase: "Oh! the vile service that I follow!" said heat every step. "Oh! my pitiful master! Life thus carried on is no longertolerable, and it is at length time that I should do something! Nomore generosity, no more energy! The master has succeeded, the pupil isstarved forever. Mordioux! I will not resist. Come, you men, " continuedhe, entering the ante-chamber, "why are you all looking at me so?Extinguish these torches and return to your posts. Ah! you were guardingme? Yes, you watch over me, do you not, worthy fellows? Brave fools!I am not the Duc de Guise. Begone! They will not assassinate me in thelittle passage. Besides, " added he, in a low voice, "that would bea resolution, and no resolutions have been formed since Monsieur leCardinal de Richelieu died. Now, with all his faults, that was a man! Itis settled: to-morrow I will throw my cassock to the nettles. "

Then, reflecting: "No, " said he, "not yet! I have one great trial tomake and I will make it; but that, and I swear it, shall be the last, Mordioux!"

He had not finished speaking when a voice issued from the king'schamber. "Monsieur le lieutenant!" said this voice. 

"Here am I, " replied he. 

"The king desires to speak to you. "

"Humph!" said the lieutenant; "perhaps of what I was thinking about. "And he went into the king's apartment. 

CHAPTER 12. The King and the Lieutenant

As soon as the king saw the officer enter, he dismissed his valet dechambre and his gentleman. "Who is on duty to-morrow, monsieur?" askedhe. 

The lieutenant bowed his head with military politeness and replied, "Iam, sire. "

"What! still you?"

"Always I, sire. "

"How can that be, monsieur?"

"Sire, when traveling, the musketeers supply all the posts of yourmajesty's household; that is to say, yours, her majesty the queen's, andmonsieur le cardinal's, the latter of whom borrows of the king the bestpart, or rather the most numerous part, of the royal guard. "

"But in the interims?"

"There are no interims, sire, but for twenty or thirty men who rest outof a hundred and twenty. At the Louvre it is very different, and if Iwere at the Louvre I should rely upon my brigadier; but, when traveling, sire, no one knows what may happen, and I prefer doing my duty myself. "

"Then you are on guard every day?"

"And every night. Yes, sire. "

"Monsieur, I cannot allow that--I will have you rest. "

"That is very kind, sire, but I will not. "

"What do you say?" said the king who did not at first comprehend thefull meaning of this reply. 

"I say, sire, that I will not expose myself to the chance of a fault. Ifthe devil had a trick to play on me, you understand, sire, as he knowsthe man with whom he has to deal, he would choose the moment when Ishould not be there. My duty and the peace of my conscience beforeeverything, sire. "

"But such duty will kill you, monsieur. "

"Eh! sire, I have performed it for thirty years, and in all Franceand Navarre there is not a man in better health than I am. Moreover, Ientreat you, sire, not to trouble yourself about me. That would appearvery strange to me, seeing that I am not accustomed to it. "

The king cut short the conversation by a fresh question. "Shall you behere, then, to-morrow morning?"

"As at present? yes, sire. "

The king walked several times up and down his chamber; it was very plainthat he burned with a desire to speak, but that he was restrained bysome fear or other. The lieutenant, standing motionless, hat in hand, watched him making these evolutions, and, whilst looking at him, grumbled to himself, biting his mustache:

"He has not half a crown worth of resolution! Parole d'honneur! I wouldlay a wager he does not speak at all!"

The king continued to walk about, casting from time to time a sideglance at the lieutenant. "He is the very image of his father, "continued the latter, in his secret soliloquy, "he is at once proud, avaricious, and timid. The devil take his master, say I. "

The king stopped. "Lieutenant, " said he. 

"I am here, sire. "

"Why did you cry out this evening, down below in the salons--'The king'sservice! His majesty's musketeers!'"

"Because you gave me the order, sire. "

"I?"

"Yourself. "

"Indeed, I did not say a word, monsieur. "

"Sire, an order is given by a sign, by a gesture, by a glance, asintelligibly, as freely, and as clearly as by word of mouth. A servantwho has nothing but ears is not half a good servant. "

"Your eyes are very penetrating, then, monsieur. "

"How is that, sire?"

"Because they see what is not. "

"My eyes are good, though, sire, although they have served their masterlong and much: when they have anything to see, they seldom miss theopportunity. Now, this evening, they saw that your majesty colored withendeavoring to conceal the inclination to yawn, that your majesty lookedwith eloquent supplications, first at his eminence, and then at hermajesty, the queen-mother, and at length to the entrance door, and theyso thoroughly remarked all I have said, that they saw your majesty'slips articulate these words: 'Who will get me out of this?'"

"Monsieur!"

"Or something to this effect, sire--'My musketeers!' I could then nolonger hesitate. That look was for me--the order was for me. I cried outinstantly, 'His Majesty's musketeers!' And, besides, that was shown tobe true, sire, not only by your majesty's not saying I was wrong, butproving I was right by going out at once. "

The king turned away to smile; then, after a few seconds, he again fixedhis limpid eye upon that countenance, so intelligent, so bold, and sofirm, that it might have been said to be the proud and energetic profileof the eagle facing the sun. "That is all very well, " said he, after ashort silence, during which he endeavored, in vain, to make his officerlower his eyes. 

But seeing the king said no more, the latter pirouetted on his heels, and took three steps towards the door, muttering, "He will not speak!Mordioux! he will not speak!"

"Thank you, monsieur, " said the king at last. 

"Humph!" continued the lieutenant; "there was only wanting that. Blamedfor having been less of a fool than another might have been. " And hewent to the door, allowing his spurs to jingle in true military style. But when he was on the threshold, feeling that the king's desire drewhim back, he returned. 

"Has your majesty told me all?" asked he, in a tone we cannot describe, but which, without appearing to solicit the royal confidence, containedso much persuasive frankness, that the king immediately replied:

"Yes, but draw near, monsieur. "

"Now then, " murmured the officer, "he is coming to it at last. "

"Listen to me. "

"I shall not lose a word, sire. "

"You will mount on horseback to-morrow, at about half-past four in themorning, and you will have a horse saddled for me. "

"From your majesty's stables?"

"No, one of your musketeers' horses. "

"Very well, sire. Is that all?"

"And you will accompany me. "

"Alone?"

"Alone. "

"Shall I come to seek your majesty, or shall I wait?"

"You will wait for me. "

"Where, sire?"

"At the little park-gate. "

The lieutenant bowed, understanding that the king had told him all hehad to say. In fact, the king dismissed him with a gracious wave of thehand. The officer left the chamber of the king, and returned to placehimself philosophically in his fauteuil, where, far from sleeping, as might have been expected, considering how late it was, he began toreflect more deeply than he had ever reflected before. The result ofthese reflections was not so melancholy as the preceding ones had been. 

"Come, he has begun, " said he. "Love urges him on, and he goesforward--he goes forward! The king is nobody in his own palace; butthe man perhaps may prove to be worth something. Well, we shall seeto-morrow morning. Oh! oh!" cried he, all at once starting up, "thatis a gigantic idea, mordioux! and perhaps my fortune depends, at least, upon that idea!" After this exclamation, the officer arose and marched, with his hands in the pockets of his justacorps, about the immenseante-chamber that served him as an apartment. The wax-light flamedfuriously under the effects of a fresh breeze which stole in throughthe chinks of the door and the window, and cut the salle diagonally. Itthrew out a reddish, unequal light, sometimes brilliant, sometimes dull, and the tall shadow of the lieutenant was seen marching on the wall, inprofile, like a figure by Callot, with his long sword and feathered hat. 

"Certainly!" said he, "I am mistaken if Mazarin is not laying a snarefor this amorous boy. Mazarin, this evening, gave an address, and madean appointment as complacently as M. Dangeau himself could have done--Iheard him, and I know the meaning of his words. 'To-morrow morning, 'said he, 'they will pass opposite the bridge of Blois. Mordioux! thatis clear enough, and particularly for a lover. That is the cause of thisembarrassment; that is the cause of this hesitation; that is thecause of this order--'Monsieur the lieutenant of my musketeers, be onhorseback to-morrow at four o'clock in the morning. ' Which is asclear as if he had said, --'Monsieur the lieutenant of my musketeers, to-morrow, at four, at the bridge of Blois--do you understand?' Here isa state secret, then, which I, humble as I am, have in my possession, while it is in action. And how do I get it? Because I have good eyes, as his majesty just now said. They say he loves this little Italian dollfuriously. They say he threw himself at his mother's feet, to beg her toallow him to marry her. They say the queen went so far as to consultthe court of Rome, whether such a marriage, contracted against her will, would be valid. Oh, if I were but twenty-five! If I had by my side thoseI no longer have! If I did not despise the whole world most profoundly, I would embroil Mazarin with the queen-mother, France with Spain, andI would make a queen after my own fashion. But let that pass. " And thelieutenant snapped his fingers in disdain. 

"This miserable Italian--this poor creature--this sordid wretch--who hasjust refused the king of England a million, would not perhaps give me athousand pistoles for the news I could carry him. Mordioux! I am fallinginto second childhood--I am becoming stupid indeed! The idea of Mazaringiving anything! ha! ha! ha!" and he laughed in a subdued voice. 

"Well, let us go to sleep--let us go to sleep; and the sooner thebetter. My mind is wearied with my evening's work, and will see thingsto-morrow more clearly than to-day. "

And upon this recommendation, made to himself, he folded his cloakaround him, looking with contempt upon his royal neighbor. Five minutesafter this he was asleep, with his hands clenched and his lips apart, giving escape, not to his secret, but to a sonorous sound, which roseand spread freely beneath the majestic roof of the ante-chamber. 

CHAPTER 13. Mary de Mancini

The sun had scarcely shed its first beams on the majestic trees of thepark and the lofty turrets of the castle, when the young king, who hadbeen awake more than two hours, possessed by the sleeplessness of love, opened his shutters himself, and cast an inquiring look into the courtsof the sleeping palace. He saw that it was the hour agreed upon: thegreat court clock pointed to a quarter past four. He did not disturb hisvalet de chambre, who was sleeping soundly at some distance; he dressedhimself, and the valet, in a great fright sprang up, thinking he hadbeen deficient in his duty; but the king sent him back again, commandinghim to preserve the most absolute silence. He then descended the littlestaircase, went out at a lateral door, and perceived at the end ofthe wall a mounted horseman holding another horse by the bridle. Thishorseman could not be recognized in his cloak and slouched hat. Asto the horse, saddled like that of a rich citizen, it offered nothingremarkable to the most experienced eye. Louis took the bridle: theofficer held the stirrup without dismounting, and asked his majesty'sorders in a low voice. 

"Follow me, " replied the king. 

The officer put his horse to the trot, behind that of his master, andthey descended the hill towards the bridge. When they reached the otherside of the Loire, --

"Monsieur, " said the king, "you will please to ride on till you see acarriage coming; then return and inform me. I will wait here. "

"Will your majesty deign to give me some description of the carriage Iam charged to discover?"

"A carriage in which you will see two ladies, and probably theirattendants likewise. "

"Sire, I should not wish to make a mistake; is there no other sign bywhich I may know this carriage?"

"It will bear, in all probability, the arms of monsieur le cardinal. "

"That is sufficient, sire, " replied the officer, fully instructed in theobject of his search. He put his horse to the trot, and rode sharply onin the direction pointed out by the king. But he had scarcely gone fivehundred paces when he saw four mules and then a carriage, loom up frombehind a little hill. Behind this carriage came another. It requiredonly one glance to assure him that these were the equipages he was insearch of; he therefore turned his bridle, and rode back to the king. 

"Sire, " said he, "here are the carriages. The first, as you said, contains two ladies with their femmes de chambre; the second containsthe footmen, provisions, and necessaries. "

"That is well, " replied the king in an agitated voice. "Please to goand tell those ladies that a cavalier of the court wishes to pay hisrespects to them alone. "

The officer set off at a gallop. "Mordioux!" said he, as he rode on, "here is a new and an honorable employment, I hope! I complained ofbeing nobody. I am the king's confidant: that is enough to make amusketeer burst with pride. "

He approached the carriage, and delivered his message gallantly andintelligently. There were two ladies in the carriage: one of greatbeauty, although rather thin; the other less favored by nature, butlively, graceful, and uniting in the delicate lines of her brow all thesigns of a strong will. Her eyes, animated and piercing in particular, spoke more eloquently than all the amorous phrases in fashion in thosedays of gallantry. It was to her D'Artagnan addressed himself, withoutfear of being mistaken, although the other was, as we have said, themore handsome of the two. 

"Madame, " said he, "I am the lieutenant of the musketeers, and thereis on the road a horseman who awaits you, and is desirous of paying hisrespects to you. "

At these words, the effect of which he watched closely, the lady withthe black eyes uttered a cry of joy, leant out of the carriage window, and seeing the cavalier approaching, held out her arms, exclaiming:

"Ah, my dear sire!" and the tears gushed from her eyes. 

The coachman stopped his team; the women rose in confusion from the backof the carriage, and the second lady made a slight curtsey, terminatedby the most ironical smile that jealousy ever imparted to the lips ofwoman. 

"Marie? dear Marie?" cried the king, taking the hand of the black-eyedlady in both his. And opening the heavy door himself, he drew her outof the carriage with so much ardor, that she was in his arms beforeshe touched the ground. The lieutenant, posted on the other side of thecarriage, saw and heard all without being observed. 

The king offered his arm to Mademoiselle de Mancini, and made a sign tothe coachman and lackeys to proceed. It was nearly six o'clock; the roadwas fresh and pleasant; tall trees with their foliage still inclosed inthe golden down of their buds let the dew of morning filter from theirtrembling branches like liquid diamonds; the grass was bursting at thefoot of the hedges; the swallows, having returned since only a few days, described their graceful curves between the heavens and the water; abreeze, laden with the perfumes of the blossoming woods, sighed alongthe road, and wrinkled the surface of the waters of the river; allthese beauties of the day, all these perfumes of the plants, all theseaspirations of the earth towards heaven, intoxicated the two lovers, walking side by side, leaning upon each other, eyes fixed upon eyes, hand clasping hand, and who, lingering as by a common desire, did notdare to speak they had so much to say. 

The officer saw that the king's horse, in wandering this way and that, annoyed Mademoiselle de Mancini. He took advantage of the pretext ofsecuring the horse to draw near them, and dismounting, walked betweenthe two horses he led; he did not lose a single word or gesture of thelovers. It was Mademoiselle de Mancini who at length began. 

"Ah, my dear sire!" said she, "you do not abandon me, then?"

"No, Marie, " replied the king; "you see I do not. "

"I had so often been told, though, that as soon as we should beseparated you would no longer think of me. "

"Dear Marie, is it then to-day only that you have discovered we aresurrounded by people interested in deceiving us?"

"But, then, sire, this journey, this alliance with Spain? They are goingto marry you off!"

Louis hung his head. At the same time the officer could see the eyesof Marie de Mancini shine in the sun with the brilliancy of a daggerstarting from its sheath. "And you have done nothing in favor of ourlove?" asked the girl, after a silence of a moment. 

"Ah! mademoiselle, how could you believe that? I threw myself at thefeet of my mother; I begged her, I implored her; I told her all my hopesof happiness were in you, I even threatened----"

"Well?" asked Marie, eagerly. 

"Well? the queen-mother wrote to the court of Rome, and received asanswer, that a marriage between us would have no validity, and would bedissolved by the holy father. At length, finding there was no hope forus, I requested to have my marriage with the infanta at least delayed. "

"And yet that does not prevent your being on the road to meet her?"

"How can I help it? To my prayers, to my supplications, to my tears, Ireceived no answer but reasons of state. "

"Well, well?"

"Well, what is to be done, mademoiselle, when so many wills are leaguedagainst me?"

It was now Marie's turn to hang her head. "Then I must bid you adieu forever, " said she. "You know that I am being exiled; you know that I amgoing to be buried alive; you know still more that they want to marry meoff, too. "

Louis became very pale, and placed his hand upon his heart. 

"If I had thought that my life only had, been at stake, I have been sopersecuted that I might have yielded; but I thought yours was concerned, my dear sire, and I stood out for the sake of preserving your happiness. "

"Oh, yes! my happiness, my treasure!" murmured the king, more gallantlythan passionately, perhaps. 

"The cardinal might have yielded, " said Marie, "if you had addressedyourself to him, if you had pressed him. For the cardinal to call theking of France his nephew! do you not perceive, sire? He would have madewar even for that honor; the cardinal, assured of governing alone, underthe double pretext of having brought up the king and given his nieceto him in marriage--the cardinal would have fought all antagonists, overcome all obstacles. Oh, sire! I can answer for that. I am a woman, and I see clearly into everything where love is concerned. "

These words produced a strange effect upon the king. Instead ofheightening his passion, they cooled it. He stopped, and said hastily, --

"What is to be said, mademoiselle? Everything has failed. "

"Except your will, I trust, my dear sire?"

"Alas!" said the king, coloring, "have I a will?"

"Oh!" said Mademoiselle de Mancini mournfully, wounded by thatexpression. 

"The king has no will but that which policy dictates, but that whichreasons of state impose upon him. "

"Oh! it is because you have no love, " cried Mary; "if you loved, sire, you would have a will. "

On pronouncing these words, Mary raised her eyes to her lover, whom shesaw more pale and more cast down than an exile who is about to quit hisnative land forever. "Accuse me, " murmured the king, "but do not say Ido not love you. "

A long silence followed these words, which the young king had pronouncedwith a perfectly true and profound feeling. "I am unable to think thatto-morrow, and after to-morrow, I shall see you no more; I cannot thinkthat I am going to end my sad days at a distance from Paris; that thelips of an old man, of an unknown, should touch that hand which you holdwithin yours; no, in truth, I cannot think of all that, my dear sire, without having my poor heart burst with despair. "

And Marie de Mancini did shed floods of tears. On his part, the king, much affected, carried his handkerchief to his mouth, and stifled a sob. 

"See, " said she, "the carriages have stopped, my sister waits for me, the time is come; what you are about to decide upon will be decided forlife. Oh, sire! you are willing, then, that I should lose you? Youare willing, then, Louis, that she to whom you have said 'I love you, 'should belong to another than to her king; to her master, to her lover?Oh! courage, Louis! courage! One word, a single word! Say 'I will!' andall my life is enchained to yours, and all my heart is yours forever. "

The king made no reply. Mary then looked at him as Dido looked at AEneasin the Elysian fields, fierce and disdainful. 

"Farewell, then, " said she; "farewell life! love! heaven!"

And she took a step away. The king detained her, seized her hand, whichhe pressed to his lips, and despair prevailing over the resolution heappeared to have inwardly formed, he let fall upon that beautiful handa burning tear of regret, which made Mary start, so really had thattear burnt her. She saw the humid eyes of the king, his pale brow, hisconvulsed lips, and cried, with an accent that cannot be described, --

"Oh, sire! you are a king, you weep, and yet I depart!"

As his sole reply, the king hid his face in his handkerchief. Theofficer uttered something so like a roar that it frightened the horses. Mademoiselle de Mancini, quite indignant, quitted the king's arm, hastily entered the carriage, crying to the coachman, "Go on, go on, andquick!"

The coachman obeyed, flogged his mules, and the heavy carriage rockedupon its creaking axle, whilst the king of France, alone, cast down, annihilated, did not dare to look either behind or before him. 

CHAPTER 14. In which the King and the Lieutenant each give Proofs ofMemory

When the king, like all the people in the world who are in love, hadlong and attentively watched disappear in the distance the carriagewhich bore away his mistress; when he had turned and turned again ahundred times to the same side and had at length succeeded in somewhatcalming the agitation of his heart and thoughts, he recollected that hewas not alone. The officer still held the horse by the bridle, and hadnot lost all hope of seeing the king recover his resolution. He hadstill the resource of mounting and riding after the carriage; theywould have lost nothing by waiting a little. But the imagination of thelieutenant of the musketeers was too rich and too brilliant; it leftfar behind it that of the king, who took care not to allow himself to becarried away to any such excess. He contented himself with approachingthe officer, and in a doleful voice, "Come, " said he, "let us be gone;all is ended. To horse!"

The officer imitated this carriage, this slowness, this sadness, andleisurely mounted his horse. The king pushed on sharply, the lieutenantfollowed him. At the bridge Louis turned around for the last time. Thelieutenant, patient as a god who has eternity behind and before him, still hoped for a return of energy. But it was groundless, nothingappeared. Louis gained the street which led to the castle, and enteredas seven was striking. When the king had returned, and the musketeer, who saw everything, had seen a corner of the tapestry over thecardinal's window lifted up, he breathed a profound sigh, like a manunloosed from the tightest bounds, and said in a low voice:

"Now, then, my officer, I hope that it is over. "

The king summoned his gentleman. "Please to understand I shall receivenobody before two o'clock, " said he. 

"Sire, " replied the gentleman, "there is, however, some one who requestsadmittance. "

"Who is that?"

"Your lieutenant of musketeers. "

"He who accompanied me?"

"Yes, sire. "

"Ah, " said the king, "let him come in. "

The officer entered. The king made a sign, and the gentleman and thevalet retired. Louis followed them with his eyes until they had shut thedoor, and when the tapestries had fallen behind them, --"You remind meby your presence, monsieur, of something I had forgotten to recommend toyou, that is to say, the most absolute discretion. "

"Oh! sire, why does your majesty give yourself the trouble of making mesuch a recommendation? It is plain you do not know me. "

"Yes, monsieur, that is true. I know that you are discreet; but as I hadprescribed nothing----"

The officer bowed. "Has your majesty nothing else to say to me?"

"No, monsieur; you may retire. "

"Shall I obtain permission not to do so till I have spoken to the king, sire?"

"What have you to say to me? Explain yourself, monsieur. "

"Sire, a thing without importance to you, but which interests megreatly. Pardon me, then, for speaking of it. Without urgency, withoutnecessity, I never would have done it, and I would have disappeared, mute and insignificant as I always have been. "

"How! Disappeared! I do not understand you, monsieur. "

"Sire, in a word, " said the officer, "I am come to ask for my dischargefrom your majesty's service. "

The king made a movement of surprise, but the officer remained asmotionless as a statue. 

"Your discharge--yours, monsieur? and for how long a time, I pray?"

"Why, forever, sire. "

"What, you are desirous of quitting my service, monsieur?" said Louis, with an expression that revealed something more than surprise. 

"Sire, I regret to say that I am. "

"Impossible!"

"It is so, however, sire. I am getting old; I have worn harness nowthirty-five years; my poor shoulders are tired; I feel that I must giveplace to the young. I don't belong to this age; I have still one footin the old one; it results that everything is strange in my eyes, everything astonishes and bewilders me. In short, I have the honor toask your majesty for my discharge. "

"Monsieur, " said the king, looking at the officer, who wore his uniformwith an ease that would have caused envy in a young man, "you arestronger and more vigorous than I am. "

"Oh!" replied the officer, with an air of false modesty, "yourmajesty says so because I still have a good eye and a tolerably firmfoot--because I can still ride a horse, and my mustache is black; but, sire, vanity of vanities all that--illusions all that--appearance, smoke, sire! I have still a youthful air, it is true, but I feel old, and within six months I am certain I shall be broken down, gouty, impotent. Therefore, then sire----"

"Monsieur, " interrupted the king, "remember your words of yesterday. Yousaid to me in this very place where you now are, that you were endowedwith the best health of any man in France; that fatigue was unknown toyou! that you did not mind spending whole days and nights at your post. Did you tell me that, monsieur, or not? Try and recall, monsieur. "

The officer sighed. "Sire, " said he, "old age is boastful; and it ispardonable for old men to praise themselves when others no longer do it. It is very possible I said that; but the fact is, sire, I am very muchfatigued, and request permission to retire. "

"Monsieur, " said the king, advancing towards the officer with a gesturefull of majesty, "you are not assigning me the true reason. You wish toquit my service, it may be true, but you disguise from me the motive ofyour retreat. "

"Sire, believe that----"

"I believe what I see, monsieur; I see a vigorous, energetic man, fullof presence of mind, the best soldier in France, perhaps; and thispersonage cannot persuade me the least in the world that you stand inneed of rest. "

"Ah! sire, " said the lieutenant, with bitterness, "what praise! Indeed, your majesty confounds me! Energetic, vigorous, brave, intelligent, thebest soldier in the army! But, sire, your majesty exaggerates my smallportion of merit to such a point, that however good an opinion I mayhave of myself, I do not recognize myself; in truth I do not. If Iwere vain enough to believe only half of your majesty's words, I shouldconsider myself a valuable, indispensable man. I should say that aservant possessed of such brilliant qualities was a treasure beyondall price. Now, sire, I have been all my life--I feel bound to sayit--except at the present time, appreciated, in my opinion, much belowmy value. I therefore repeat, your majesty exaggerates. "

The king knitted his brow, for he saw a bitter raillery beneath thewords of the officer. "Come, monsieur, " said he, "let us meet thequestion frankly. Are you dissatisfied with my service, say? Noevasions; speak boldly, frankly--I command you to do so. "

The officer, who had been twisting his hat about in his hands, with anembarrassed air, for several minutes, raised his head at these words. "Oh! sire, " said he, "that puts me a little more at my ease. To aquestion put so frankly, I will reply frankly. To tell the truth isa good thing, as much from the pleasure one feels in relieving one'sheart, as on account of the rarity of the fact. I will speak the truth, then, to my king, at the same time imploring him to excuse the franknessof an old soldier. "

Louis looked at his officer with anxiety, which he manifested bythe agitation of his gesture. "Well, then speak, " said he, "for I amimpatient to hear the truths you have to tell me. "

The officer threw his hat upon a table, and his countenance, always sointelligent and martial, assumed, all at once, a strange character ofgrandeur and solemnity. "Sire, " said he, "I quit the king's servicebecause I am dissatisfied. The valet, in these times, can approach hismaster as respectfully as I do, can give him an account of his labor, bring back his tools, return the funds that have been intrusted to him, and say, 'Master, my day's work is done. Pay me, if you please, and letus part. '"

"Monsieur! monsieur!" exclaimed the king, crimson with rage. 

"Ah! sire, " replied the officer, bending his knee for a moment, "neverwas servant more respectful than I am before your majesty; only youcommanded me to tell the truth. Now I have begun to tell it, it mustcome out, even if you command me to hold my tongue. "

There was so much resolution expressed in the deep-sunk muscles of theofficer's countenance, that Louis XIV. Had no occasion to tell him tocontinue; he continued, therefore, whilst the king looked at him with acuriosity mingled with admiration. 

"Sire, I have, as I have said, now served the house of Francethirty-five years; few people have worn out so many swords in thatservice as I have, and the swords I speak of were good swords, too, sire. I was a boy, ignorant of everything except courage, when the kingyour father guessed that there was a man in me. I was a man, sire, whenthe Cardinal de Richelieu, who was a judge of manhood, discovered anenemy in me. Sire, the history of that enmity between the ant and thelion may be read from the first to the last line, in the secret archivesof your family. If ever you feel an inclination to know it, do so, sire;the history is worth the trouble--it is I who tell you so. You willthere read that the lion, fatigued, harassed, out of breath, at lengthcried for quarter, and the justice must be rendered him to say thathe gave as much as he required. Oh! those were glorious times, sire, strewed over with battles like one of Tasso's or Ariosto's epics. Thewonders of those times, to which the people of ours would refuse belief, were every-day occurrences. For five years together, I was a hero everyday; at least, so I was told by persons of judgment; and that is along period for heroism, trust me, sire, a period of five years. Nevertheless, I have faith in what these people told me, for they weregood judges. They were named M. De Richelieu, M. De Buckingham, M. DeBeaufort, M. De Retz, a mighty genius himself in street warfare, --inshort, the king, Louis XIII. , and even the queen, your noble mother, whoone day condescended to say, 'Thank you. ' I don't know what service Ihad had the good fortune to render her. Pardon me, sire, for speakingso boldly; but what I relate to you, as I have already had the honor totell your majesty, is history. "

The king bit his lips, and threw himself violently on a chair. 

"I appear importunate to your majesty, " said the lieutenant. "Eh! sire, that is the fate of truth; she is a stern companion; she bristles allover with steel; she wounds those whom she attacks, and sometimes himwho speaks her. "

"No, monsieur, " replied the king; "I bade you speak--speak then. "

"After the service of the king and the cardinal came the service of theregency, sire; I fought pretty well in the Fronde--much less, though, than the first time. The men began to diminish in stature. I have, nevertheless, led your majesty's musketeers on some perilous occasions, which stand upon the orders of the day of the company. Mine was abeautiful luck at that time. I was the favorite of M. De Mazarin. Lieutenant here! lieutenant there! lieutenant to the right! lieutenantto the left! There was not a buffet dealt in France, of which yourhumble servant did not have the dealing; but soon France was not enough. The cardinal sent me to England on Cromwell's account; another gentlemanwho was not over gentle, I assure you, sire. I had the honor of knowinghim, and I was well able to appreciate him. A great deal was promisedme on account of that mission. So, as I did much more than I had beenbidden to do, I was generously paid, for I was at length appointedcaptain of the musketeers, that is to say, the most envied position incourt, which takes precedence over the marshals of France, and justly, for who says captain of the musketeers says the flower of chivalry andking of the brave. "

"Captain, monsieur!" interrupted the king, "you make a mistake. Lieutenant, you mean. "

"Not at all, sire--I make no mistake; your majesty may rely upon me inthat respect. Monsieur le cardinal gave me the commission himself. "

"Well!"

"But M. De Mazarin, as you know better than anybody, does not oftengive, and sometimes takes back what he has given; he took it back againas soon as peace was made and he was no longer in want of me. CertainlyI was not worthy to replace M. De Treville, of illustrious memory; butthey had promised me, and they had given me; they ought to have stoppedthere. "

"Is that what dissatisfies you, monsieur? Well I shall make inquiries. Ilove justice; and your claim, though made in military fashion, does notdisplease me. "

"Oh, sire!" said the officer, "your majesty has ill understood me; I nolonger claim anything now. "

"Excess of delicacy, monsieur; but I will keep my eye upon your affairs, and later----"

"Oh, sire! what a word!--later! Thirty years have I lived upon thatpromising word, which has been pronounced by so many great personages, and which your mouth has, in its turn, just pronounced. Later--that ishow I have received a score of wounds, and how I have reached fifty-fouryears of age without ever having had a louis in my purse, and withoutever having met with a protector on my way, --I who have protected somany people! So I change my formula, sire; and when any one says to me'Later, ' I reply 'Now. ' It is rest that I solicit, sire. That may beeasily granted me. That will cost nobody anything. "

"I did not look for this language, monsieur, particularly from a manwho has always lived among the great. You forget you are speaking to theking, to a gentleman who is, I suppose, of as good a house as yourself;and when I say later, I mean a certainty. "

"I do not at all doubt it, sire, but this is the end of the terribletruth I had to tell you. If I were to see upon that table a marshal'sstick, the sword of constable, the crown of Poland, instead of later, Iswear to you, sire, that I should still say Now! Oh, excuse me, sire! Iam from the country of your grandfather, Henry IV. I do not speak often;but when I do speak, I speak all. "

"The future of my reign has little temptation for you, monsieur, itappears, " said Louis, haughtily. 

"Forgetfulness, forgetfulness everywhere!" cried the officer, with anoble air; "the master has forgotten the servant, so that the servant isreduced to forget his master. I live in unfortunate times, sire. I seeyouth full of discouragement and fear, I see it timid and despoiled, when it ought to be rich and powerful. I yesterday evening, for example, open the door to a king of England, whose father, humble as I am, Iwas near saving, if God had not been against me--God, who inspired Hiselect, Cromwell! I open, I said, the door, that is to say, the palace ofone brother to another brother, and I see--stop, sire, that is a loadon my heart!--I see the minister of that king drive away the proscribedprince, and humiliate his master by condemning to want another king, hisequal. Then I see my prince, who is young, handsome, and brave, whohas courage in his heart, and lightning in his eye, --I see him tremblebefore a priest, who laughs at him behind the curtain of his alcove, where he digests all the gold of France, which he afterwards stuffsinto secret coffers. Yes--I understand your looks, sire. I am bold tomadness; but what is to be said? I am an old man, and I tell you here, sire, to you, my king, things which I would cram down the throat of anyone who should dare to pronounce them before me. You have commanded meto pour out the bottom of my heart before you, sire, and I cast at thefeet of your majesty the pent-up indignation of thirty years, as I wouldpour out all my blood, if your majesty commanded me to do so. "

The king, without speaking a word, wiped the drops of cold and abundantperspiration which trickled from his temples. The moment of silencewhich followed this vehement outbreak represented for him who hadspoken, and for him who had listened, ages of suffering. 

"Monsieur, " said the king at length, "you spoke the word forgetfulness. I have heard nothing but that word; I will reply, then, to it alone. Others have perhaps been able to forget, but I have not, and the proofis, that I remember that one day of riot, that one day when the furiouspeople, raging and roaring as the sea, invaded the royal palace; thatone day when I feigned sleep in my bed, one man alone, naked sword inhand, concealed behind my curtain, watched over my life, ready to riskhis own for me, as he had before risked it twenty times for the lives ofmy family. Was not the gentleman, whose name I then demanded, called M. D'Artagnan? say, monsieur. "

"Your majesty has a good memory, " replied the officer, coldly. 

"You see, then, " continued the king, "if I have such remembrances of mychildhood, what an amount I may gather in the age of reason. "

"Your majesty has been richly endowed by God, " said the officer, in thesame tone. 

"Come, Monsieur d'Artagnan, " continued Louis, with feverish agitation, "ought you not to be as patient as I am? Ought you not to do as I do?Come!"

"And what do you do, sire?"

"I wait. "

"Your majesty may do so, because you are young; but I, sire, have nottime to wait; old age is at my door, and death is behind it, lookinginto the very depths of my house. Your majesty is beginning life, itsfuture is full of hope and fortune; but I, sire, I am on the other sideof the horizon, and we are so far from each other, that I should neverhave time to wait till your majesty came up to me. "

Louis made another turn in his apartment, still wiping the moisture fromhis brow, in a manner that would have terrified his physicians, if hisphysicians had witnessed the state his majesty was in. 

"It is very well, monsieur, " said Louis XIV. , in a sharp voice; "you aredesirous of having your discharge, and you shall have it. You offer meyour resignation of the rank of lieutenant of the musketeers?"

"I deposit it humbly at your majesty's feet, sire. "

"That is sufficient. I will order your pension. "

"I shall have a thousand obligations to your majesty. "

"Monsieur, " said the king, with a violent effort, "I think you arelosing a good master. "

"And I am sure of it, sire. "

"Shall you ever find such another?"

"Oh, sire! I know that your majesty is alone in the world; thereforewill I never again take service with any king upon earth, and will neveragain have other master than myself. "

"You say so?"

"I swear so, your majesty. "

"I shall remember that word, monsieur. "

D'Artagnan bowed. 

"And you know I have a good memory, " said the king. 

"Yes, sire, and yet I should desire that that memory should failyour majesty in this instance, in order that you might forget all themiseries I have been forced to spread before your eyes. Your majesty isso much above the poor and the mean that I hope----"

"My majesty, monsieur, will act like the sun, which looks upon all, great and small, rich and poor, giving luster to some, warmth to others, and life to all. Adieu Monsieur d'Artagnan--adieu: you are free. "

And the king, with a hoarse sob, which was lost in his throat, passedquickly into the next room. D'Artagnan took up his hat from the tableupon which he had thrown it, and went out. 

CHAPTER 15. The Proscribed

D'Artagnan had not reached the bottom of the staircase, when the kingcalled his gentleman. "I have a commission to give you, monsieur, " saidhe. 

"I am at your majesty's commands. "

"Wait, then. " And the young king began to write the following letter, which cost him more than one sigh, although, at the same time, somethinglike a feeling of triumph glittered in his eyes:

"My Lord Cardinal, --Thanks to your good counsels and, above all, thanksto your firmness, I have succeeded in overcoming a weakness unworthy ofa king. You have too ably arranged my destiny to allow gratitude not tostop me at the moment when I was about to destroy your work. I felt Iwas wrong to wish to make my life turn from the course you had markedout for it. Certainly it would have been a misfortune to France and myfamily if a misunderstanding had taken place between me and my minister. This, however, would certainly have happened if I had made your niece mywife. I am perfectly aware of this, and will henceforth oppose nothingto the accomplishment of my destiny. I am prepared, then, to wed theinfanta, Maria Theresa. You may at once open the conference. --Youraffectionate Louis. "

The king, after reperusing the letter, sealed it himself. "This letterfor my lord cardinal, " said he. 

The gentleman took it. At Mazarin's door he found Bernouin waiting withanxiety. 

"Well?" asked the minister's valet de chambre. 

"Monsieur, " said the gentleman, "here is a letter for his eminence. "

"A letter! Ah! we expected one after the little journey of the morning. "

"Oh! you know, then, that his majesty----"

"As first minister, it belongs to the duties of our charge to knoweverything. And his majesty prays and implores, I presume. "

"I don't know, but he sighed frequently whilst he was writing. "

"'Yes, yes, yes; we understand all that; people sigh sometimes fromhappiness as well as from grief, monsieur. "

"And yet the king did not look very happy when he returned, monsieur. "

"You did not see clearly. Besides, you only saw his majesty on hisreturn, for he was only accompanied by the lieutenant of the guards. ButI had his eminence's telescope, I looked through it when he was tired, and I am sure they both wept. "

"Well! was it for happiness they wept?"

"No, but for love, and they vowed to each other a thousand tendernesses, which the king asks no better than to keep. Now this letter is abeginning of the execution. "

"And what does his eminence think of this love, which is, by the bye, nosecret to anybody?"

Bernouin took the gentleman by the arm, and whilst ascending thestaircase, --"In confidence, " said he, in a low voice, "his eminencelooks for success in the affair. I know very well we shall have war withSpain; but, bah! war will please the nobles. My lord cardinal, besides, can endow his niece royally, nay, more than royally. There will bemoney, festivities, and fireworks--everybody will be delighted. "

"Well, for my part, " replied the gentleman, shaking his head, "itappears to me that this letter is very light to contain all that. "

"My friend, " replied Bernouin, "I am certain of what I tell you. M. D'Artagnan related all that passed to me. "

"Ay, ay! and what did he tell you? Let us hear. "

"I accosted him by asking him, on the part of the cardinal, ifthere were any news, without discovering my designs, observe, for M. D'Artagnan is a cunning hand. 'My dear Monsieur Bernouin, ' he replied, 'the king is madly in love with Mademoiselle de Mancini, that is all Ihave to tell you. ' And then I asked him 'Do you think, to such a degreethat it will urge him to act contrary to the designs of his eminence?''Ah! don't ask me, ' said he; 'I think the king capable of anything; hehas a will of iron, and what he wills he wills in earnest. If he takesit into his head to marry Mademoiselle de Mancini, he will marry her, depend upon it. ' And thereupon he left me and went straight to thestables, took a horse, saddled it himself, jumped upon its back, and setoff as if the devil were at his heels. "

"So that you believe, then----"

"I believe that monsieur the lieutenant of the guards knew more than hewas willing to say. "

"In your opinion, then, M. D'Artagnan----"

"Is gone, according to all probability, after the exiles, to carry outall that can facilitate the success of the king's love. "

Chatting thus, the two confidants arrived at the door of his eminence'sapartment. His eminence's gout had left him; he was walking about hischamber in a state of great anxiety, listening at doors and looking outof windows. Bernouin entered, followed by the gentleman, who had ordersfrom the king to place the letter in the hands of the cardinal himself. Mazarin took the letter, but before opening it, he got up a ready smile, a smile of circumstance, able to throw a veil over emotions of whateversort they might be. So prepared, whatever was the impression receivedfrom the letter, no reflection of that impression was allowed totranspire upon his countenance. 

"Well, " said he, when he had read and reread the letter, "very well, monsieur. Inform the king that I thank him for his obedience to thewishes of the queen-mother, and that I will do everything for theaccomplishment of his will. "

The gentlemen left the room. The door had scarcely closed before thecardinal, who had no mask for Bernouin, took off that which had sorecently covered his face, and with a most dismal expression, --"Call M. De Brienne, " said he. Five minutes afterward the secretary entered. 

"Monsieur, " said Mazarin, "I have just rendered a great service to themonarchy, the greatest I have ever rendered it. You will carry thisletter, which proves it, to her majesty the queen-mother, and when sheshall have returned it to you, you will lodge it in portfolio B. , whichis filled with documents and papers relative to my ministry. "

Brienne went as desired, and, as the letter was unsealed, did not failto read it on his way. There is likewise no doubt that Bernouin, who wason good terms with everybody, approached so near to the secretary as tobe able to read the letter over his shoulder; so that the news spreadwith such activity through the castle, that Mazarin might have fearedit would reach the ears of the queen-mother before M. De Brienne couldconvey Louis XIV. 's letter to her. A moment after orders were given fordeparture, and M. De Conde having been to pay his respects to theking on his pretended rising, inscribed the city of Poitiers upon histablets, as the place of sojourn and rest for their majesties. 

Thus in a few instants was unraveled an intrigue which had covertlyoccupied all the diplomacies of Europe. It had nothing, however, veryclear as a result, but to make a poor lieutenant of musketeers lose hiscommission and his fortune. It is true, that in exchange he gained hisliberty. We shall soon know how M. D'Artagnan profited by this. For themoment, if the reader will permit us, we shall return to the hostelryof les Medici, of which one of the windows opened at the very moment theorders were given for the departure of the king. 

The window that opened was that of one of the rooms of Charles II. Theunfortunate prince had passed the night in bitter reflections, his headresting on his hands, and his elbows on the table, whilst Parry, infirmand old, wearied in body and in mind, had fallen asleep in a corner. Asingular fortune was that of this faithful servant, who saw beginningfor the second generation the fearful series of misfortunes which hadweighed so heavily on the first. When Charles II. Had well thought overthe fresh defeat he had experienced, when he perfectly comprehended thecomplete isolation into which he had just fallen, on seeing his freshhope left behind him, he was seized as with a vertigo, and sank backin the large armchair in which he was seated. Then God took pity on theunhappy prince, and sent to console him sleep, the innocent brother ofdeath. He did not wake till half-past six, that is to say, till thesun shone brightly into his chamber, and Parry, motionless with fear ofwaking him, was observing with profound grief the eyes of the young manalready red with wakefulness, and his cheeks pale with suffering andprivations. 

At length the noise of some heavy carts descending towards the Loireawakened Charles. He arose, looked around him like a man who hasforgotten everything, perceived Parry, shook him by the hand, andcommanded him to settle the reckoning with Master Cropole. MasterCropole, being called upon to settle his account with Parry, acquittedhimself, it must be allowed, like an honest man; he only made hiscustomary remark, that the two travelers had eaten nothing, which hadthe double disadvantage of being humiliating for his kitchen, and offorcing him to ask payment for a repast not consumed, but not the lesslost. Parry had nothing to say to the contrary, and paid. 

"I hope, " said the king, "it has not been the same with the horses. I don't see that they have eaten at your expense, and it would be amisfortune for travelers like us, who have a long journey to make, tohave our horses fail us. "

But Cropole, at this doubt, assumed his majestic air, and replied thatthe stables of les Medici were not less hospitable than its refectory. 

The king mounted his horse; his old servant did the same, and both setout towards Paris, without meeting a single person on their road, in thestreets or the faubourgs of the city. For the prince the blow was themore severe, as it was a fresh exile. The unfortunates cling to thesmallest hopes, as the happy do to the greatest good; and when they areobliged to quit the place where that hope has soothed their hearts, theyexperience the mortal regret which the banished man feels when he placeshis foot upon the vessel which is to bear him into exile. It appearsthat the heart already wounded so many times suffers from the leastscratch; it appears that it considers as a good the momentary absence ofevil, which is nothing but the absence of pain; and that God, into themost terrible misfortunes, has thrown hope as the drop of water whichthe rich bad man in hell entreated of Lazarus. 

For one instant even the hope of Charles II. Had been more than afugitive joy;--that was when he found himself so kindly welcomed by hisbrother king; then it had taken a form that had become a reality; then, all at once, the refusal of Mazarin had reduced the fictitious realityto the state of a dream. This promise of Louis XIV. , so soon retracted, had been nothing but a mockery; a mockery like his crown--like hisscepter--like his friends--like all that had surrounded his royalchildhood, and which had abandoned his proscribed youth. Mockery!everything was a mockery for Charles II. Except the cold, black reposepromised by death. 

Such were the ideas of the unfortunate prince while sitting listlesslyupon his horse, to which he abandoned the reins; he rode slowly alongbeneath the warm May sun, in which the somber misanthropy of the exileperceived a last insult to his grief. 

CHAPTER 16. "Remember!"

A horseman was going rapidly along the road leading towards Blois, whichhe had left nearly half an hour before, passed the two travelers, and, though apparently in haste, raised his hat as he passed them. The kingscarcely observed this young man, who was about twenty-five years ofage, and who, turning round several times, made friendly signals to aman standing before the gate of a handsome white-and-red house; that isto say, built of brick and stone, with a slated roof, situated on theleft hand of the road the prince was traveling. 

This man, old, tall, and thin, with white hair, --we speak of the onestanding by the gate;--this man replied to the farewell signals of theyoung one by signs of parting as tender as could have been made bya father, The young man disappeared at the first turn of the road, bordered by fine trees, and the old man was preparing to return to thehouse, when the two travelers, arriving in front of the gate, attractedhis attention. 

The king, we have said, was riding with his head cast down, his armsinert, leaving his horse to go what pace he liked, whilst Parry, behindhim, the better to imbibe the genial influence of the sun, had takenoff his hat, and was looking about right and left. His eyes encounteredthose of the old man leaning against the gate; the latter, as if struckby some strange spectacle, uttered an exclamation, and made one steptowards the two travelers. From Parry his eyes immediately turnedtowards the king, upon whom they rested for an instant. Thisexclamation, however rapid, was instantly reflected in a visible mannerupon the features of the tall old man. For scarcely had he recognizedthe younger of the travelers--and we say recognized, for nothing but aperfect recognition could have explained such an act--scarcely, we say, had he recognized the younger of the two travelers, than he clapped hishands together, with respectful surprise, and, raising his hat from hishead, bowed so profoundly that it might have been said he was kneeling. This demonstration, however absent, or rather, however absorbed was theking in his reflections, attracted his attention instantly; and checkinghis horse and turning towards Parry, he exclaimed, "Good God, Parry, who is that man who salutes me in such a marked manner? Can he know me, think you?"

Parry, much agitated and very pale, had already turned his horse towardsthe gate. "Ah, sire!" said he, stopping suddenly at five of sixpaces' distance from the still bending man: "sire, I am seized withastonishment, for I think I recognize that brave man. Yes, it must behe! Will your majesty permit me to speak to him?"

"Certainly. "

"Can it be you, Monsieur Grimaud?" asked Parry. 

"Yes, it is I, " replied the tall old man, drawing himself up, butwithout losing his respectful demeanor. 

"Sire, " then said Parry, "I was not deceived. This good man is theservant of the Comte de la Fere, and the Comte de la Fere, if youremember, is the worthy gentleman of whom I have so often spoken to yourmajesty that the remembrance of him must remain, not only in your mind, but in your heart. "

"He who assisted my father at his last moments?" asked Charles, evidently affected at the remembrance. 

"The same, sire. "

"Alas!" said Charles; and then addressing Grimaud, whose penetrating andintelligent eyes seemed to search and divine his thoughts, --"My friend, "said he, "does your master, Monsieur le Comte de la Fere, live in thisneighborhood?"

"There, " replied Grimaud, pointing with his outstretched arm to thewhite-and-red house behind the gate. 

"And is Monsieur le Comte de la Fere at home at present?"

"At the back, under the chestnut trees. "

"Parry, " said the king, "I will not miss this opportunity, so preciousfor me, to thank the gentleman to whom our house is indebted for such anoble example of devotedness and generosity. Hold my horse, my friend, if you please. " And, throwing the bridle to Grimaud, the king enteredthe abode of Athos, quite alone, as one equal enters the dwellingof another. Charles had been informed by the concise explanation ofGrimaud, --"At the back, under the chestnut trees;" he left, therefore, the house on the left, and went straight down the path indicated. Thething was easy; the tops of those noble trees, already covered withleaves and flowers, rose above all the rest. 

On arriving under the lozenges, by turns luminous and dark, whichcheckered the ground of this path according as the trees were more orless in leaf, the young prince perceived a gentleman walking with hisarms behind him, apparently plunged in a deep meditation. Withoutdoubt, he had often had this gentleman described to him, for, withouthesitating, Charles II. Walked straight up to him. At the sound of hisfootsteps, the Comte de la Fere raised his head, and seeing an unknownman of noble and elegant carriage coming towards him, he raised his hatand waited. At some paces from him, Charles II. Likewise took off hishat. Then, as if in reply to the comte's mute interrogation, --

"Monsieur le Comte, " said he, "I come to discharge a duty towards you. I have, for a long time, had the expression of a profound gratitudeto bring you. I am Charles II. , son of Charles Stuart, who reigned inEngland, and died on the scaffold. "

On hearing this illustrious name, Athos felt a kind of shudder creepthrough his veins, but at the sight of the young prince standinguncovered before him, and stretching out his hand towards him, twotears, for an instant, dimmed his brilliant eyes. He bent respectfully, but the prince took him by the hand. 

"See how unfortunate I am, my lord count; it is only due to chance thatI have met with you. Alas! I ought to have people around me whom I loveand honor, whereas I am reduced to preserve their services in my heart, and their names in my memory: so that if your servant had not recognizedmine, I should have passed by your door as by that of a stranger. "

"It is but too true, " said Athos, replying with his voice to the firstpart of the king's speech, and with a bow to the second; "it is but tootrue, indeed, that your majesty has seen many evil days. "

"And the worst, alas!" replied Charles, "are perhaps still to come. "

"Sire, let us hope. "

"Count, count, " continued Charles, shaking his head, "I entertained hopetill last night, and that of a good Christian, I swear. "

Athos looked at the king as if to interrogate him. 

"Oh, the history is soon related, " said Charles. "Proscribed, despoiled, disdained, I resolved, in spite of all my repugnance, to tempt fortuneone last time. Is it not written above, that, for our family, all goodfortune and all bad fortune shall eternally come from France? You knowsomething of that, monsieur, --you, who are one of the Frenchmen whom myunfortunate father found at the foot of his scaffold, on the day of hisdeath, after having found them at his right hand on the day of battle. "

"Sire, " said Athos modestly, "I was not alone. My companions and I did, under the circumstances, our duty as gentlemen, and that was all. Yourmajesty was about to do me the honor to relate----"

"That is true. I had the protection, --pardon my hesitation, count, but, for a Stuart, you, who understand everything, you will comprehend thatthe word is hard to pronounce;--I had, I say, the protection of mycousin the stadtholder of Holland; but without the intervention, or atleast without the authorization of France, the stadtholder would nottake the initiative. I came, then, to ask this authorization of the kingof France, who has refused me. "

"The king has refused you, sire!"

"Oh, not he; all justice must be rendered to my younger brother Louis;but Monsieur de Mazarin----"

Athos bit his lips. 

"You perhaps think I should have expected this refusal?" said the king, who had noticed the movement. 

"That was, in truth, my thought, sire, " replied Athos, respectfully, "Iknow that Italian of old. "

"Then I determined to come to the test, and know at once the last wordof my destiny. I told my brother Louis, that, not to compromise eitherFrance or Holland, I would tempt fortune myself in person, as I hadalready done, with two hundred gentlemen, if he would give them to me, and a million, if he would lend it me. "

"Well, sire?"

"Well, monsieur, I am suffering at this moment something strange, andthat is, the satisfaction of despair. There is in certain souls, --and Ihave just discovered that mine is of the number, --a real satisfaction inthe assurance that all is lost, and the time is come to yield. "

"Oh, I hope, " said Athos, "that your majesty is not come to thatextremity. "

"To say so, my lord count, to endeavor to revive hope in my heart, youmust have ill understood what I have just told you. I came to Bloisto ask of my brother Louis the alms of a million, with which I had thehopes of re-establishing my affairs; and my brother Louis has refusedme. You see, then, plainly, that all is lost. "

"Will your majesty permit me to express a contrary opinion?"

"How is that, count? Do you think my heart of so low an order that I donot know how to face my position?"

"Sire, I have always seen that it was in desperate positions thatsuddenly the great turns of fortune have taken place. "

"Thank you, count, it is some comfort to meet with a heart like yours, that is to say, sufficiently trustful in God and in monarchy, never todespair of a royal fortune, however low it may be fallen. Unfortunately, my dear count, your words are like those remedies they call 'sovereign, 'and which, though able to cure curable wounds or diseases, fail againstdeath. Thank you for your perseverance in consoling me, count, thanksfor your devoted remembrance, but I know in what I must trust--nothingwill save me now. And see, my friend, I was so convinced, that I wastaking the route of exile with my old Parry; I was returning to devourmy poignant griefs in the little hermitage offered me by Holland. There, believe me, count, all will soon be over, and death will come quickly, it is called so often by this body, eaten up by its soul, and by thissoul, which aspires to heaven. "

"Your majesty has a mother, a sister, and brothers; your majesty is thehead of the family, and ought, therefore, to ask a long life of God, instead of imploring Him for a prompt death. Your majesty is an exile, a fugitive, but you have right on your side; you ought to aspire tocombats, dangers, business, and not to rest in heavens. "

"Count, " said Charles II. , with a smile of indescribable sadness, "haveyou ever heard of a king who reconquered his kingdom with one servantof the age of Parry, and with three hundred crowns which that servantcarried in his purse?"

"No, sire; but I have heard--and that more than once--that a dethronedking has recovered his kingdom with a firm will, perseverance, somefriends, and a million skillfully employed. "

"But you cannot have understood me. The million I asked of my brotherLouis was refused me. "

"Sire, " said Athos, "will your majesty grant me a few minutes, andlisten attentively to what remains for me to say to you?"

Charles II. Looked earnestly at Athos. "Willingly, monsieur, " said he. 

"Then I will show your majesty the way, " resumed the count, directinghis steps towards the house. He then conducted the king to his study, and begged him to be seated. "Sire, " said he, "your majesty just nowtold me that, in the present state of England, a million would sufficefor the recovery of your kingdom. "

"To attempt it at least, monsieur, and to die as a king if I should notsucceed. "

"Well, then, sire, let your majesty, according to the promise you havemade me, have the goodness to listen to what I have to say. " Charlesmade an affirmative sign with his head. Athos walked straight up to thedoor, the bolts of which he drew, after looking to see if anybody wasnear, and then returned. "Sire, " said he, "your majesty has kindlyremembered that I lent assistance to the very noble and very unfortunateCharles I. , when his executioners conducted him from St. James's toWhitehall. "

"Yes, certainly, I do remember it, and always shall remember it. "

"Sire, it is a dismal history to be heard by a son who no doubt hashad it related to him many times; and yet I ought to repeat it to yourmajesty without omitting one detail. "

"Speak on, monsieur. "

"When the king your father ascended the scaffold, or rather when hepassed from his chamber to the scaffold on a level with his window, everything was prepared for his escape. The executioner was got out ofthe way; a hole contrived under the floor of his apartment; I myself wasbeneath the funeral vault, which I heard all at once creak beneath hisfeet. "

"Parry has related to me all these terrible details, monsieur. "

Athos bowed, and resumed. "But here is something he has not related toyou, sire, for what follows passed between God, your father, and myself;and never has the revelation of it been made even to my dearest friends. 'Go a little further off, ' said the august patient to the executioner;'it is but for an instant, and I know that I belong to you; but remembernot to strike till I give the signal. I wish to offer up my prayers infreedom. '"

"Pardon me, " said Charles II. , turning very pale, "but you, count, whoknow so many details of this melancholy event, --details which, as yousaid just now, have never been revealed to anyone, --do you know the nameof that infernal executioner, of that base wretch who concealed his facethat he might assassinate a king with impunity?"

Athos became slightly pale. "His name?" said he, "yes, I know it, butcannot tell it. "

"And what is become of him, for nobody in England knows his destiny?"

"He is dead. "

"But he did not die in his bed; he did not die a calm and peacefuldeath, he did not die the death of the good?"

"He died a violent death, in a terrible night, rendered so by thepassions of man and a tempest from God. His body, pierced by a dagger, sank to the depths of the ocean. God pardon his murderer!"

"Proceed, then, " said Charles II. , seeing that the count was unwillingto say more. 

"The king of England, after having, as I have said, spoken thus to themasked executioner, added, --'Observe, you will not strike till I shallstretch out my arms saying--REMEMBER!'"

"I was aware, " said Charles, in an agitated voice, "that that was thelast word pronounced by my unfortunate father. But why and for whom?"

"For the French gentleman placed beneath his scaffold. "

"For you, then, monsieur?"

"Yes, sire; and every one of the words which he spoke to me, through theplanks of the scaffold covered with a black cloth, still sounds in myears. The king knelt down on one knee: 'Comte de la Fere, ' said he, 'areyou there?' 'Yes, sire, ' replied I. Then the king stooped towards theboards. "

Charles II. , also palpitating with interest, burning with grief, stoopedtowards Athos, to catch, one by one, every word that escaped from him. His head touched that of the comte. 

"Then, " continued Athos, "the king stooped. 'Comte de la Fere, ' saidhe, 'I could not be saved by you: it was not to be. Now, even though Icommit a sacrilege, I must speak to you. Yes, I have spoken to men--yes, I have spoken to God, and I speak to you the last. To sustain a causewhich I thought sacred, I have lost the throne of my fathers and theheritage of my children. '"

Charles II. Concealed his face in his hands, and a bitter tear glidedbetween his white and slender fingers. 

"'I have still a million in gold, ' continued the king. 'I buried itin the vaults of the castle of Newcastle, a moment before I left thatcity. '" Charles raised his head with an expression of such painfuljoy that it would have drawn tears from any one acquainted with hismisfortunes. 

"A million!" murmured he. "Oh, count!"

"'You alone know that this money exists: employ it when you think it canbe of the greatest service to my eldest son. And now, Comte de la Fere, bid me adieu!'

"'Adieu, adieu, sire!' cried I. "

Charles arose, and went and leant his burning brow against the window. 

"It was then, " continued Athos, "that the king pronounced the word, 'REMEMBER!' addressed to me. You see, sire, that I have remembered. "

The king could not resist or conceal his emotion. Athos beheld themovement of his shoulders, which undulated convulsively; he heard thesobs which burst from his overcharged breast. He was silent himself, suffocated by the flood of bitter remembrances he had just poured uponthat royal head. Charles II. , with a violent effort, left the window, devoured his tears, and came and sat by Athos. "Sire, " said the latter, "I thought till to-day that the time had not yet arrived for theemployment of that last resource; but, with my eyes fixed upon England, I felt it was approaching. To-morrow I meant to go and inquire in whatpart of the world your majesty was, and then I purposed going to you. You come to me, sire; that is an indication that God is with us. "

"My lord, " said Charles, in a voice choked by emotion, "you are, for me, what an angel sent from heaven would be, --you are a preserver sent tome from the tomb of my father himself; but, believe me, for ten years'civil war has passed over my country, striking down men, tearing up thesoil, it is no more probable that gold should remain in the entrails ofthe earth, than love in the hearts of my subjects. "

"Sire, the spot in which his majesty buried the million is well known tome, and no one, I am sure, has been able to discover it. Besides, is thecastle of Newcastle quite destroyed? Have they demolished it stone bystone, and uprooted the soil to the last tree?"

"No, it is still standing: but at this moment General Monk occupies itand is encamped there. The only spot from which I could look for succor, where I possess a single resource, you see, is invaded by my enemies. "

"General Monk, sire, cannot have discovered the treasure which I speakof. "

"Yes, but can I go and deliver myself up to Monk, in order to recoverthis treasure? Ah! count, you see plainly I must yield to destiny, sinceit strikes me to the earth every time I rise. What can I do with Parryas my only servant, with Parry, whom Monk has already driven from hispresence? No, no, no, count, we must yield to this last blow. "

"But what your majesty cannot do, and what Parry can no more attempt, doyou not believe that I could succeed in accomplishing?"

"You--you, count--you would go?"

"If it please your majesty, " said Athos, bowing to the king, "yes, Iwill go, sire. "

"What! you so happy here, count?"

"I am never happy when I have a duty left to accomplish, and it is animperative duty which the king your father left me to watch over yourfortunes, and make a royal use of his money. So, if your majesty honorsme with a sign, I will go with you. "

"Ah, monsieur!" said the king, forgetting all royal etiquette, andthrowing his arms around the neck of Athos, "you prove to me that thereis a God in heaven, and that this God sometimes sends messengers to theunfortunate who groan on the earth. "

Athos, exceedingly moved by this burst of feeling of the young man, thanked him with profound respect, and approached the window. "Grimaud!"cried he, "bring out my horses. "

"What, now--immediately!" said the king. "Ah, monsieur, you are indeed awonderful man!"

"Sire, " said Athos, "I know nothing more pressing than your majesty'sservice. Besides, " added he, smiling, "it is a habit contracted longsince, in the service of the queen your aunt, and of the king yourfather. How is it possible for me to lose it at the moment yourmajesty's service calls for it?"

"What a man!" murmured the king. 

Then after a moment's reflection, --"But no, count, I cannot expose youto such privations. I have no means of rewarding such services. "

"Bah!" said Athos, laughing. "Your majesty is joking, have you not amillion? Ah! why am I not possessed of half such a sum! I would alreadyhave raised a regiment. But, thank God! I have still a few rolls of goldand some family diamonds left. Your majesty will, I hope, deign to sharewith a devoted servant. "

"With a friend--yes, count, but on condition that, in his turn, thatfriend will share with me hereafter!"

"Sire!" said Athos, opening a casket, from which he drew both gold andjewels, "you see, sire, we are too rich. Fortunately, there are four ofus, in the event of our meeting with thieves. "

Joy made the blood rush to the pale cheeks of Charles II. , as he sawAthos's two horses, led by Grimaud, already booted for the journey, advance towards the porch. 

"Blaisois, this letter for the Vicomte de Bragelonne. For everybodyelse I am gone to Paris. I confide the house to you, Blaisois. " Blaisoisbowed, shook hands with Grimaud, and shut the gate. 

CHAPTER 17. In which Aramis is sought and only Bazin is found

Two hours had scarcely elapsed since the departure of the master of thehouse, who, in Blaisois's sight, had taken the road to Paris, when ahorseman, mounted on a good pied horse, stopped before the gate, andwith a sonorous "hola!" called the stable-boys who, with the gardeners, had formed a circle round Blaisois, the historian-in-ordinary to thehousehold of the chateau. This "hola, " doubtless well known to MasterBlaisois, made him turn his head and exclaim--"Monsieur d'Artagnan! runquickly, you chaps, and open the gate. "

A swarm of eight brisk lads flew to the gate, which was opened as if ithad been made of feathers; and every one loaded him with attentions, forthey knew the welcome this friend was accustomed to receive from theirmaster; and for such remarks the eye of the valet may always be dependedupon. 

"Ah!" said M. D'Artagnan, with an agreeable smile, balancing himselfupon his stirrup to jump to the ground, "where is that dear count?"

"Ah! how unfortunate you are, monsieur!" said Blaisois: "and howunfortunate will monsieur le comte our master, think himself when hehears of your coming! As ill luck will have it, monsieur le comte lefthome two hours ago. "

D'Artagnan did not trouble himself about such trifles. "Very good!" saidhe. "You always speak the best French in the world; you shall give me alesson in grammar and correct language, whilst I wait the return of yourmaster. "

"That is impossible, monsieur, " said Blaisois; "you would have to waittoo long. "

"Will he not come back to-day, then?"

"No, nor to-morrow, nor the day after to-morrow. Monsieur le comte hasgone on a journey. "

"A journey!" said D'Artagnan, surprised; "that's a fable, MasterBlaisois. "

"Monsieur, it is no more than the truth. Monsieur has done me the honorto give me the house in charge; and he added, with his voice so full ofauthority and kindness--that is all one to me: 'You will say I have goneto Paris. '"

"Well!" cried D'Artagnan, "since he is gone towards Paris, that is allI wanted to know! you should have told me so at first, booby! He is thentwo hours in advance?"

"Yes, monsieur. "

"I shall soon overtake him. Is he alone?"

"No, monsieur. "

"Who is with him, then?"

"A gentleman whom I don't know, an old man, and M. Grimaud. "

"Such a party cannot travel as fast as I can--I will start. "

"Will monsieur listen to me an instant?" said Blaisois, laying his handgently on the reins of the horse. 

"Yes, if you don't favor me with fine speeches, and make haste. "

"Well, then, monsieur, that word Paris appears to me to be only anexcuse. "

"Oh, oh!" said D'Artagnan, seriously, "an excuse, eh?"

"Yes, monsieur; and monsieur le comte is not going to Paris, I willswear. "

"What makes you think so?"

"This--M. Grimaud always knows where our master is going; and he hadpromised me that the first time he went to Paris, he would take a littlemoney for me to my wife. "

"What, have you a wife, then?"

"I had one--she was of this country; but monsieur thought her a noisyscold, and I sent her to Paris; it is sometimes inconvenient, but veryagreeable at others. "

"I understand; but go on. You do not believe the count gone to Paris?"

"No, monsieur; for then M. Grimaud would have broken his word; he wouldhave perjured himself, and that is impossible. "

"That is impossible, " repeated D'Artagnan, quite in a study, because hewas quite convinced. "Well, my brave Blaisois, many thanks to you. "

Blaisois bowed. 

"Come, you know I am not curious--I have serious business with yourmaster. Could you not, by a little bit of a word--you who speak sowell--give me to understand--one syllable, only--I will guess the rest. "

"Upon my word, monsieur, I cannot. I am quite ignorant where monsieur lecomte is gone. As to listening at doors, that is contrary to my nature;and besides it is forbidden here. "

"My dear fellow, " said D'Artagnan, "this is a very bad beginning for me. Never mind, you know when monsieur le comte will return, at least?"

"As little, monsieur, as the place of his destination. "

"Come, Blaisois, come, search. "

"Monsieur doubts my sincerity? Ah, monsieur, that grieves me much. "

"The devil take his gilded tongue!" grumbled D'Artagnan. "A clown with aword would be worth a dozen of him. Adieu!"

"Monsieur, I have the honor to present you my respects. "

"Cuistre!" said D'Artagnan to himself, "the fellow is unbearable. " Hegave another look up to the house, turned his horse's head, and set offlike a man who has nothing either annoying or embarrassing in his mind. When he was at the end of the wall, and out of sight, --"Well, now, Iwonder, " said he, breathing quickly, "whether Athos was at home. No; allthose idlers, standing with their arms crossed, would have been atwork if the eye of the master was near. Athos gone a journey?--that isincomprehensible. Bah! it is all devilish mysterious! And then--no--heis not the man I want. I want one of a cunning, patient mind. Mybusiness is at Melun, in a certain presbytery I am acquainted with. Forty-five leagues--four days and a half! Well, it is fine weather, andI am free. Never mind the distance!"

And he put his horse into a trot, directing his course towards Paris. Onthe fourth day he alighted at Melun as he had intended. 

D'Artagnan was never in the habit of asking any one on the road for anycommon information. For these sorts of details, unless in very seriouscircumstances, he confided in his perspicacity, which was so seldomat fault, in his experience of thirty years, and in a great habit ofreading the physiognomies of houses, as well as those of men. At Melun, D'Artagnan immediately found the presbytery--a charming house, plasteredover red brick, with vines climbing along the gutters, and a cross, incarved stone, surmounting the ridge of the roof. From the ground-floorof this house came a noise, or rather a confusion of voices, like thechirping of young birds when the brood is just hatched under the down. One of these voices was spelling the alphabet distinctly. A voice, thick, yet pleasant, at the same time scolded the talkers and correctedthe faults of the reader. D'Artagnan recognized that voice, and as thewindow of the ground-floor was open, he leant down from his horse underthe branches and red fibers of the vine and cried "Bazin, my dear Bazin!good-day to you. "

A short, fat man, with a flat face, a craniun ornamented with a crownof gray hairs, cut short, in imitation of a tonsure, and covered with anold black velvet cap, arose as soon as he heard D'Artagnan--we ought notto say arose, but bounded up. In fact, Bazin bounded up, carrying withhim his little low chair, which the children tried to take away, withbattles more fierce than those of the Greeks endeavoring to recover thebody of Patroclus from the hands of the Trojans. Bazin did more thanbound; he let fall both his alphabet and his ferule. "You!" said he, "you, Monsieur d'Artagnan?"

"Yes, myself! Where is Aramis--no, M. Le Chevalier d'Herblay--no, I amstill mistaken--Monsieur le Vicaire-General?"

"Ah, monsieur, " said Bazin, with dignity, "monseigneur is at hisdiocese. "

"What did you say?" said D'Artagnan. Bazin repeated the sentence. 

"Ah, ah! but has Aramis a diocese?"

"Yes, monsieur. Why not?"

"Is he a bishop, then?"

"Why, where can you come from, " said Bazin, rather irreverently, "thatyou don't know that?"

"My dear Bazin, we pagans, we men of the sword, know very well when aman is made a colonel, or maitre-de-camp, or marshal of France; butif he be made a bishop, archbishop, or pope--devil take me if the newsreaches us before the three quarters of the earth have had the advantageof it!"

"Hush! hush!" said Bazin, opening his eyes: "do not spoil these poorchildren, in whom I am endeavoring to inculcate such good principles. "In fact, the children had surrounded D'Artagnan, whose horse, longsword, spurs, and martial air they very much admired. But above all, they admired his strong voice; so that, when he uttered his oath, thewhole school cried out, "The devil take me!" with fearful burstsof laughter, shouts, and bounds, which delighted the musketeer, andbewildered the old pedagogue. 

"There!" said he, "hold your tongues, you brats! You have come, M. D'Artagnan, and all my good principles fly away. With you, as usual, comes disorder. Babel is revived. Ah! Good Lord! Ah! the wild littlewretches!" And the worthy Bazin distributed right and left blows whichincreased the cries of his scholars by changing the nature of them. 

"At least, " said he, "you will no longer decoy any one here. "

"Do you think so?" said D'Artagnan, with a smile which made a shuddercreep over the shoulders of Bazin. 

"He is capable of it, " murmured he. 

"Where is your master's diocese?"

"Monseigneur Rene is bishop of Vannes. "

"Who had him nominated?"

"Why, monsieur le surintendant, our neighbor. "

"What! Monsieur Fouquet?"

"To be sure he did. "

"Is Aramis on good terms with him, then?"

"Monseigneur preached every Sunday at the house of monsieur lesurintendant at Vaux; then they hunted together. "

"Ah!"

"And monseigneur composed his homilies--no, I mean his sermons--withmonsieur le surintendant. "

"Bah! he preached in verse, then, this worthy bishop?"

"Monsieur, for the love of heaven, do not jest with sacred things. "

"There, Bazin, there! So, then, Aramis is at Vannes?"

"At Vannes, in Bretagne. "

"You are a deceitful old hunks, Bazin; that is not true. "

"See, monsieur, if you please; the apartments of the presbytery areempty. "

"He is right there, " said D'Artagnan, looking attentively at the house, the aspect of which announced solitude. 

"But monseigneur must have written you an account of his promotion. "

"When did it take place?"

"A month back. "

"Oh! then there is no time lost. Aramis cannot yet have wanted me. Buthow is it, Bazin, you do not follow your master?"

"Monsieur, I cannot; I have occupations. "

"Your alphabet?"

"And my penitents. "

"What, do you confess, then? Are you a priest?"

"The same as one. I have such a call. "

"But the orders?"

"Oh, " said Bazin, without hesitation, "now that monseigneur is a bishop, I shall soon have my orders, or at least my dispensations. " And herubbed his hands. 

"Decidedly, " said D'Artagnan to himself, "there will be no means ofuprooting these people. Get me some supper Bazin. "

"With pleasure, monsieur. "

"A fowl, a bouillon, and a bottle of wine. "

"This is Saturday, monsieur--it is a day of abstinence. "

"I have a dispensation, " said D'Artagnan. 

Bazin looked at him suspiciously. 

"Ah, ah, master hypocrite!" said the musketeer, "for whom do you takeme? If you, who are the valet, hope for dispensation to commit a crime, shall not I, the friend of your bishop, have dispensation for eatingmeat at the call of my stomach? Make yourself agreeable with me, Bazin, or, by heavens! I will complain to the king, and you shall neverconfess. Now you know that the nomination of bishops rests with theking--I have the king, I am the stronger. "

Bazin smiled hypocritically. "Ah, but we have monsieur le surintendant, "said he. 

"And you laugh at the king, then?"

Bazin made no reply; his smile was sufficiently eloquent. 

"My supper, " said D'Artagnan, "it is getting towards seven o'clock. "

Bazin turned round and ordered the eldest of the pupils to inform thecook. In the meantime, D'Artagnan surveyed the presbytery. 

"Phew!" said he, disdainfully, "monseigneur lodged his grandeur verymeanly here. "

"We have the Chateau de Vaux, " said Bazin. 

"Which is perhaps equal to the Louvre?" said D'Artagnan, jeeringly. 

"Which is better, " replied Bazin, with the greatest coolness imaginable. 

"Ah, ah!" said D'Artagnan. 

He would perhaps have prolonged the discussion, and maintained thesuperiority of the Louvre, but the lieutenant perceived that his horseremained fastened to the bars of a gate. 

"The devil!" said he. "Get my horse looked after; your master the bishophas none like him in his stables. "

Bazin cast a sidelong glance at the horse, and replied, "Monsieur lesurintendant gave him four from his own stables; and each of the four isworth four of yours. "

The blood mounted to the face of D'Artagnan. His hand itched and his eyeglanced over the head of Bazin, to select the place upon which he shoulddischarge his anger. But it passed away; reflection came, and D'Artagnancontented himself with saying, --

"The devil! the devil! I have done well to quit the service of theking. Tell me, worthy Master Bazin, " added he, "how many musketeers doesmonsieur le surintendant retain in his service?"

"He could have all there are in the kingdom with his money, " repliedBazin, closing his book, and dismissing the boys with some kindly blowsof his cane. 

"The devil! the devil!" repeated D'Artagnan, once more, as if to annoythe pedagogue. But as supper was now announced, he followed the cook, who introduced him into the refectory, where it awaited him. D'Artagnanplaced himself at the table, and began a hearty attack upon his fowl. 

"It appears to me, " said D'Artagnan, biting with all his might at thetough fowl they had served up to him, and which they had evidentlyforgotten to fatten, --"it appears that I have done wrong in not seekingservice with that master yonder. A powerful noble this intendant, seemingly! In good truth, we poor fellows know nothing at the court, andthe rays of the sun prevent our seeing the large stars, which are alsosuns, at a little greater distance from our earth, --that is all. "

As D'Artagnan delighted, both from pleasure and system, in making peopletalk about things which interested him, he fenced in his best stylewith Master Bazin, but it was pure loss of time; beyond the tiresome andhyperbolical praises of monsieur le surintendant of the finances, Bazin, who, on his side, was on his guard, afforded nothing but platitudes tothe curiosity of D'Artagnan, so that our musketeer, in a tolerably badhumor, desired to go to bed as soon as he had supped. D'Artagnan wasintroduced by Bazin into a mean chamber, in which there was a poor bed;but D'Artagnan was not fastidious in that respect. He had been told thatAramis had taken away the key of his own private apartment, and as heknew Aramis was a very particular man, and had generally many thingsto conceal in his apartment, he had not been surprised. He, therefore, although it appeared comparatively even harder, attacked the bed asbravely as he had done the fowl; and, as he had as good an inclinationto sleep as he had had to eat, he took scarcely longer time to besnoring harmoniously than he had employed in picking the last bones ofthe bird. 

Since he was no longer in the service of any one, D'Artagnan hadpromised himself to indulge in sleeping as soundly as he had formerlyslept lightly; but with whatever good faith D'Artagnan had made himselfthis promise, and whatever desire he might have to keep it religiously, he was awakened in the middle of the night by a loud noise of carriages, and servants on horseback. A sudden illumination flashed over the wallsof his chamber; he jumped out of bed and ran to the window in his shirt. "Can the king be coming this way?" he thought, rubbing his eyes; "intruth, such a suite can only be attached to royalty. "

"Vive monsieur le surintendant!" cried, or rather vociferated, from awindow on the ground-floor, a voice which he recognized as Bazin's, whoat the same time waved a handkerchief with one hand, and held a largecandle in the other. D'Artagnan then saw something like a brillianthuman form leaning out of the principal carriage; at the same time loudbursts of laughter, caused, no doubt, by the strange figure of Bazin, and issuing from the same carriage, left, as it were, a train of joyupon the passage of the rapid cortege. 

"I might easily see it was not the king, " said D'Artagnan; "people don'tlaugh so heartily when the king passes. Hola, Bazin!" cried he to hisneighbor, three-quarters of whose body still hung out of the window, tofollow the carriage with his eyes as long as he could. "What is all thatabout?"

"It is M. Fouquet, " said Bazin, in a patronizing tone. 

"And all those people?"

"That is the court of M. Fouquet. "

"Oh, oh!" said D'Artagnan; "what would M. De Mazarin say to that if heheard it?" And he returned to his bed, asking himself how Aramisalways contrived to be protected by the most powerful personages in thekingdom. "Is it that he has more luck than I, or that I am a greaterfool than he? Bah!" that was the concluding word by the aid of whichD'Artagnan, having become wise, now terminated every thought and everyperiod of his style. Formerly he said, "Mordioux!" which was a prickof the spur, but now he had become older, and he murmured thatphilosophical "Bah!" which served as a bridle to all the passions. 

CHAPTER 18. In which D'Artagnan seeks Porthos, and only finds Mousqueton

When D'Artagnan had perfectly convinced himself that the absence ofthe Vicar-General d'Herblay was real, and that his friend was not to befound at Melun or in its vicinity, he left Bazin without regret, castan ill-natured glance at the magnificent Chateau de Vaux which wasbeginning to shine with that splendor which brought on its ruin, and, compressing his lips like a man full of mistrust and suspicion, he putspurs to his pied horse, saying, "Well, well! I have still Pierrefondsleft, and there I shall find the best man and the best filled coffer. And that is all I want, for I have an idea of my own. "

We will spare our readers the prosaic incidents of D'Artagnan's journey, which terminated on the morning of the third day within sight ofPierrefonds. D'Artagnan came by the way of Nanteuil-le-Hardouin andCrepy. At a distance he perceived the Castle of Louis of Orleans, which, having become part of the crown domain, was kept by an old concierge. This was one of those marvelous manors of the middle ages, with wallstwenty feet in thickness, and a hundred in height. 

D'Artagnan rode slowly past its walls, measured its towers with his eyeand descended into the valley. From afar he looked down upon the chateauof Porthos, situated on the shores of a small lake, and contiguous to amagnificent forest. It was the same place we have already had the honorof describing to our readers; we shall therefore satisfy ourselves withnaming it. The first thing D'Artagnan perceived after the fine trees, the May sun gilding the sides of the green hills, the long rows offeather-topped trees which stretched out towards Compiegne, was a largerolling box, pushed forward by two servants and dragged by two others. In this box there was an enormous green-and-gold thing, which went alongthe smiling glades of the park, thus dragged and pushed. This thing, at a distance, could not be distinguished, and signified absolutelynothing; nearer, it was a hogshead muffled in gold-bound green cloth;when close, it was a man, or rather a poussa, the interior extremity ofwhom, spreading over the interior of the box, entirely filled it, whenstill closer, the man was Mousqueton--Mousqueton, with gray hair and aface as red as Punchinello's. 

"Pardieu!" cried D'Artagnan; "why, that's my dear Monsieur Mousqueton!"

"Ah!" cried the fat man--"ah! what happiness! what joy! There's M. D'Artagnan. Stop, you rascals!" These last words were addressed tothe lackeys who pushed and dragged him. The box stopped, and the fourlackeys, with a precision quite military, took off their laced hats andranged themselves behind it. 

"Oh, Monsieur d'Artagnan!" said Mousqueton, "why can I not embrace yourknees? But I have become impotent, as you see. "

"Dame! my dear Mousqueton, it is age. "

"No, monsieur, it is not age; it is infirmities--troubles. "

"Troubles! you, Mousqueton?" said D'Artagnan making the tour of the box;"are you out of your mind, my dear friend? Thank God! you are as heartyas a three-hundred-year-old oak. "

"Ah! but my legs, monsieur, my legs!" groaned the faithful servant. 

"What's the matter with your legs?"

"Oh, they will no longer bear me!"

"Ah, the ungrateful things! And yet you feed them well, Mousqueton, apparently. "

"Alas, yes! They can reproach me with nothing in that respect, " saidMousqueton, with a sigh; "I have always done what I could for my poorbody; I am not selfish. " And Mousqueton sighed afresh. 

"I wonder whether Mousqueton wants to be a baron, too, as he sighs afterthat fashion?" thought D'Artagnan. 

"Mon Dieu, monsieur!" said Mousqueton, as if rousing himself from apainful reverie; "how happy monseigneur will be that you have thought ofhim!"

"Kind Porthos!" cried D'Artagnan, "I am anxious to embrace him. "

"Oh!" said Mousqueton, much affected, "I shall certainly write to him. "

"What!" cried D'Artagnan, "you will write to him?"

"This very day; I shall not delay it an hour. "

"Is he not here, then?"

"No, monsieur. "

"But is he near at hand?--is he far off?"

"Oh, can I tell, monsieur, can I tell?"

"Mordioux!" cried the musketeer, stamping with his foot, "I amunfortunate. Porthos such a stay-at-home!"

"Monsieur, there is not a more sedentary man than monseigneur, but----"

"But what?"

"When a friend presses you----"

"A friend?"

"Doubtless--the worthy M. D'Herblay. "

"What, has Aramis pressed Porthos?"

"This is how the thing happened, Monsieur d'Artagnan. M. D'Herblay wroteto monseigneur----"

"Indeed!"

"A letter, monsieur, such a pressing letter that it threw us all into abustle. "

"Tell me all about it, my dear friend. " said D'Artagnan; "but removethese people a little further off first. "

Mousqueton shouted, "Fall back, you fellows, " with such powerful lungsthat the breath, without the words, would have been sufficient todisperse the four lackeys. D'Artagnan seated himself on the shaft ofthe box and opened his ears. "Monsieur, " said Mousqueton, "monseigneur, then, received a letter from M. Le Vicaire-General d'Herblay, eight ornine days ago; it was the day of the rustic pleasures, yes, it must havebeen Wednesday. "

"What do you mean?" said D'Artagnan. "The day of rustic pleasures?"

"Yes, monsieur; we have so many pleasures to take in this delightfulcountry, that we were encumbered by them; so much so, that we have beenforced to regulate the distribution of them. "

"How easily do I recognize Porthos's love of order in that! Now, thatidea would never have occurred to me; but then I am not encumbered withpleasures. "

"We were, though, " said Mousqueton. 

"And how did you regulate the matter, let me know?" said D'Artagnan. 

"It is rather long, monsieur. "

"Never mind, we have plenty of time; and you speak so well, my dearMousqueton, that it is really a pleasure to hear you. "

"It is true, " said Mousqueton, with a sigh of satisfaction, whichemanated evidently from the justice which had been rendered him, "it istrue I have made great progress in the company of monseigneur. "

"I am waiting for the distribution of the pleasures, Mousqueton, andwith impatience. I want to know if I have arrived on a lucky day. "

"Oh, Monsieur d'Artagnan, " said Mousqueton in a melancholy tone, "sincemonseigneur's departure all the pleasures have gone too!"

"Well, my dear Mousqueton, refresh your memory. "

"With what day shall I begin?"

"Eh, pardieux! begin with Sunday; that is the Lord's day. "

"Sunday, monsieur?"

"Yes. "

"Sunday pleasures are religious: monseigneur goes to mass, makes thebread-offering, and has discourses and instructions made to him by hisalmoner-in-ordinary. That is not very amusing, but we expect a Carmelitefrom Paris who will do the duty of our almonry, and who, we are assured, speaks very well, which will keep us awake, whereas our present almoneralways sends us to sleep. These are Sunday religious pleasures. OnMonday, worldly pleasures. "

"Ah, ah!" said D'Artagnan, "what do you mean by that? Let us have aglimpse at your worldly pleasures. "

"Monsieur, on Monday we go into the world; we pay and receive visits, weplay on the lute, we dance, we make verses, and burn a little incense inhonor of the ladies. "

"Peste! that is the height of gallantry, " said the musketeer, who wasobliged to call to his aid all the strength of his facial muscles tosuppress an enormous inclination to laugh. 

"Tuesday, learned pleasures. "

"Good!" cried D'Artagnan. "What are they? Detail them, my dearMousqueton. "

"Monseigneur has bought a sphere or globe, which I shall show you; itfills all the perimeter of the great tower, except a gallery which hehas had built over the sphere: there are little strings and brass wiresto which the sun and moon are hooked. It all turns; and that is verybeautiful. Monseigneur points out to me seas and distant countries. Wedon't intend to visit them, but it is very interesting. "

"Interesting! yes, that's the word, " repeated D'Artagnan. "AndWednesday?"

"Rustic pleasures, as I have had the honor to tell you, monsieur lechevalier. We look over monseigneur's sheep and goats; we make theshepherds dance to pipes and reeds, as is written in a book monseigneurhas in his library, which is called 'Bergeries. ' The author died about amonth ago. "

"Monsieur Racan, perhaps, " said D'Artagnan. 

"Yes, that was his name--M. Racan. But that is not all: we angle inthe little canal, after which we dine, crowned with flowers. That isWednesday. "

"Peste!" said D'Artagnan, "you don't divide your pleasures badly. AndThursday?--what can be left for poor Thursday?"

"It is not very unfortunate, monsieur, " said Mousqueton, smiling. "Thursday, Olympian pleasures. Ah, monsieur, that is superb! We gettogether all monseigneur's young vassals, and we make them throw thedisc, wrestle, and run races. Monseigneur can't run now, no more can I;but monseigneur throws the disc as nobody else can throw it. And when hedoes deal a blow, oh, that proves a misfortune!"

"How so?"

"Yes, monsieur, we were obliged to renounce the cestus. He crackedheads; he broke jaws--beat in ribs. It was charming sport; but nobodywas willing to play with him. "

"Then his wrist----"

"Oh, monsieur, firmer than ever. Monseigneur gets a trifle weaker in hislegs, --he confesses that himself; but his strength has all taken refugein his arms, so that----"

"So that he can knock down bullocks, as he used formerly. "

"Monsieur, better than that--he beats in walls. Lately, afterhaving supped with one of our farmers--you know how popular and kindmonseigneur is--after supper as a joke, he struck the wall a blow. Thewall crumbled away beneath his hand, the roof fell in, and three men andan old woman were stifled. "

"Good God, Mousqueton! And your master?"

"Oh, monseigneur, a little skin was rubbed off his head. We bathed thewounds with some water which the monks gave us. But there was nothingthe matter with his hand. "

"Nothing?"

"No, nothing, monsieur. "

"Deuce take the Olympic pleasures! They must cost your master too dear, for widows and orphans----"

"They all had pensions, monsieur; a tenth of monseigneur's revenue wasspent in that way. "

"Then pass on to Friday, " said D'Artagnan. 

"Friday, noble and warlike pleasures. We hunt, we fence, we dressfalcons and break horses. Then, Saturday is the day for intellectualpleasures: we adorn our minds; we look at monseigneur's pictures andstatues; we write, even, and trace plans: and then we fire monseigneur'scannon. "

"You draw plans, and fire cannon?"

"Yes, monsieur. "

"Why, my friend, " said D'Artagnan, "M. Du Vallon, in truth, possessesthe most subtle and amiable mind that I know. But there is one kind ofpleasure you have forgotten, it appears to me. "

"What is that, monsieur?" asked Mousqueton, with anxiety. 

"The material pleasures. "

Mousqueton colored. "What do you mean by that, monsieur?" said he, casting down his eyes. 

"I mean the table--good wine--evenings occupied in passing the bottle. "

"Ah, monsieur, we don't reckon those pleasures, --we practice them everyday. "

"My brave Mousqueton, " resumed D'Artagnan, "pardon me, but I was soabsorbed in your charming recital that I have forgotten theprincipal object of our conversation, which was to learn what M. LeVicaire-General d'Herblay could have to write to your master about. "

"That is true, monsieur, " said Mousqueton; "the pleasures have misledus. Well, monsieur, this is the whole affair. "

"I am all attention, Mousqueton. "

"On Wednesday----"

"The day of the rustic pleasures?"

"Yes--a letter arrived; he received it from my hands. I had recognizedthe writing. "

"Well?"

"Monseigneur read it and cried out, 'Quick, my horses! my arms!'"

"Oh, good Lord! then it was for some duel?" said D'Artagnan. 

"No, monsieur, there were only these words: 'Dear Porthos, set out, ifyou would wish to arrive before the Equinox. I expect you. '"

"Mordioux!" said D'Artagnan, thoughtfully, "that was pressing, apparently. "

"I think so; therefore, " continued Mousqueton, "monseigneur set outthe very same day with his secretary, in order to endeavor to arrive intime. "

"And did he arrive in time?"

"I hope so. Monseigneur, who is hasty, as you know, monsieur, repeatedincessantly, 'Tonno Dieu! What can this mean? The Equinox? Never mind, afellow must be well mounted to arrive before I do. '"

"And you think Porthos will have arrived first, do you?" askedD'Artagnan. 

"I am sure of it. This Equinox, however rich he may be, has certainly nohorses so good as monseigneur's. "

D'Artagnan repressed his inclination to laugh, because the brevity ofAramis's letter gave rise to reflection. He followed Mousqueton, orrather Mousqueton's chariot, to the castle. He sat down to a sumptuoustable, of which they did him the honors as to a king. But he could drawnothing from Mousqueton, --the faithful servant seemed to shed tears atwill, but that was all. 

D'Artagnan, after a night passed in an excellent bed, reflected muchupon the meaning of Aramis's letter; puzzled himself as to the relationof the Equinox with the affairs of Porthos; and being unable to makeanything out unless it concerned some amour of the bishop's, for whichit was necessary that the days and nights should be equal, D'Artagnanleft Pierrefonds as he had left Melun, as he had left the chateau of theComte de la Fere. It was not, however, without a melancholy, which mightin good sooth pass for one of the most dismal of D'Artagnan's moods. His head cast down, his eyes fixed, he suffered his legs to hang on eachside of his horse, and said to himself, in that vague sort of reveriewhich ascends sometimes to the sublimest eloquence:

"No more friends! no more future! no more anything! My energies arebroken like the bonds of our ancient friendship. Oh, old age is coming, cold and inexorable; it envelops in its funereal crape all that wasbrilliant, all that was embalming in my youth; then it throws that sweetburthen on its shoulders and carries it away with the rest into thefathomless gulf of death. "

A shudder crept through the heart of the Gascon, so brave and so strongagainst all the misfortunes of life; and during some moments the cloudsappeared black to him, the earth slippery and full of pits as that ofcemeteries. 

"Whither am I going?" said he to himself. "What am I going to do! Alone, quite alone--without family, without friends! Bah!" cried he all atonce. And he clapped spurs to his horse, who, having found nothingmelancholy in the heavy oats of Pierrefonds profited by this permissionto show his gayety in a gallop which absorbed two leagues. "To Paris!"said D'Artagnan to himself. And on the morrow he alighted in Paris. Hehad devoted six days to this journey. 

CHAPTER 19. What D'Artagnan went to Paris for

The lieutenant dismounted before a shop in the Rue des Lombards, at thesign of the Pilon d'Or. A man of good appearance, wearing a white apron, and stroking his gray mustache with a large hand, uttered a cry of joyon perceiving the pied horse. "Monsieur le chevalier, " said he, "ah, isthat you?"

"Bon jour, Planchet, " replied D'Artagnan, stooping to enter the shop. 

"Quick, somebody, " cried Planchet, "to look after Monsieur d'Artagnan'shorse, --somebody to get ready his room, --somebody to prepare hissupper. "

"Thanks, Planchet. Good-day, my children!" said D'Artagnan to the eagerboys. 

"Allow me to send off this coffee, this treacle, and theseraisins, " said Planchet; "they are for the store-room of monsieur lesurintendant. "

"Send them off, send them off!"

"That is only the affair of a moment, then we shall sup. "

"Arrange it that we may sup alone; I want to speak to you. "

Planchet looked at his old master in a significant manner. 

"Oh, don't be uneasy, it is nothing unpleasant, " said D'Artagnan. 

"So much the better--so much the better!" And Planchet breathed freelyagain, whilst D'Artagnan seated himself quietly down in the shop, upona bale of corks, and made a survey of the premises. The shop was wellstocked; there was a mingled perfume of ginger, cinnamon, and groundpepper, which made D'Artagnan sneeze. The shop-boy, proud of being incompany with so renowned a warrior, of a lieutenant of musketeers, whoapproached the person of the king, began to work with an enthusiasmwhich was something like delirium, and to serve the customers with adisdainful haste that was noticed by several. 

Planchet put away his money, and made up his accounts, amidst civilitiesaddressed to his former master. Planchet had with his equals the shortspeech and the haughty familiarity of the rich shopkeeper who serveseverybody and waits for nobody. D'Artagnan observed this habit witha pleasure which we shall analyze presently. He saw night come on bydegrees, and at length Planchet conducted him to a chamber on the firststory, where, amidst bales and chests, a table very nicely set outawaited the two guests. 

D'Artagnan took advantage of a moment's pause to examine the countenanceof Planchet, whom he had not seen for a year. The shrewd Planchet hadacquired a slight protuberance in front, but his countenance was notpuffed. His keen eye still played with facility in its deep-sunk orbit;and fat, which levels all the characteristic saliences of the humanface, had not yet touched either his high cheek-bones, the sign ofcunning and cupidity, or his pointed chin, the sign of acuteness andperseverance. Planchet reigned with as much majesty in his dining-roomas in his shop. He set before his master a frugal, but perfectlyParisian repast: roast meat, cooked at the baker's, with vegetables, salad, and a dessert borrowed from the shop itself. D'Artagnan waspleased that the grocer had drawn from behind the fagots a bottle ofthat Anjou wine which during all his life had been D'Artagnan's favoritewine. 

"Formerly, monsieur, " said Planchet, with a smile full of bonhomie, "itwas I who drank your wine; now you do me the honor to drink mine. "

"And, thank God, friend Planchet, I shall drink it for a long time tocome, I hope; for at present I am free. "

"Free? You have leave of absence, monsieur?"

"Unlimited. "

"You are leaving the service?" said Planchet, stupefied. 

"Yes, I am resting. "

"And the king?" cried Planchet, who could not suppose it possible thatthe king could do without the services of such a man as D'Artagnan. 

"The king will try his fortune elsewhere. But we have supped well, youare disposed to enjoy yourself; you invite me to confide in you. Openyour ears, then. "

"They are open. " And Planchet, with a laugh more frank than cunning, opened a bottle of white wine. 

"Leave me my reason, at least. "

"Oh, as to you losing your head--you, monsieur!"

"Now my head is my own, and I mean to take better care of it than ever. In the first place we shall talk business. How fares our money-box?"

"Wonderfully well, monsieur. The twenty thousand livres I had of you arestill employed in my trade, in which they bring me nine per cent. I giveyou seven, so I gain two by you. "

"And you are still satisfied?"

"Delighted. Have you brought me any more?"

"Better than that. But do you want any?"

"Oh! not at all. Every one is willing to trust me now. I am extending mybusiness. "

"That was your intention. "

"I play the banker a little. I buy goods of my needy brethren; I lendmoney to those who are not ready for their payments. "

"Without usury?"

"Oh! monsieur, in the course of the last week I have had two meetings onthe boulevards, on account of the word you have just pronounced. "

"What?"

"You shall see: it concerned a loan. The borrower gives me in pledgesome raw sugars, on condition that I should sell if repayment were notmade within a fixed period. I lend a thousand livres. He does not payme and I sell the sugars for thirteen hundred livres. He learns this andclaims a hundred crowns. Ma foi! I refused, pretending that I could notsell them for more than nine hundred livres. He accused me of usury. Ibegged him to repeat that word to me behind the boulevards. He was anold guard, and he came: and I passed your sword through his left thigh. "

"Tu dieu! what a pretty sort of banker you make!" said D'Artagnan. 

"For above thirteen per cent. I fight, " replied Planchet; "that is mycharacter. "

"Take only twelve, " said D'Artagnan, "and call the rest premium andbrokerage. "

"You are right, monsieur; but to your business. "

"Ah! Planchet, it is very long and very hard to speak. "

"Do speak it, nevertheless. "

D'Artagnan twisted his mustache like a man embarrassed with theconfidence he is about to make and mistrustful of his confidant. 

"Is it an investment?" asked Planchet. 

"Why, yes. "

"At good profit?"

"A capital profit, --four hundred per cent. , Planchet. "

Planchet gave such a blow with his fist upon the table, that the bottlesbounded as if they had been frightened. 

"Good heavens! is that possible?"

"I think it will be more, " replied D'Artagnan coolly; "but I like to layit at the lowest!"

"The devil!" said Planchet, drawing nearer. "Why monsieur, that ismagnificent! Can one put much money in it?"

"Twenty thousand livres each, Planchet. "

"Why, that is all you have, monsieur. For how long a time?"

"For a month. "

"And that will give us----"

"Fifty thousand livres each, profit. "

"It is monstrous! It is worth while to fight for such interest as that!"

"In fact, I believe it will be necessary to fight not a little, " saidD'Artagnan, with the same tranquillity; "but this time there are two ofus, Planchet, and I shall take all the blows to myself. "

"Oh! monsieur, I will not allow that. "

"Planchet, you cannot be concerned in it; you would be obliged to leaveyour business and your family. "

"The affair is not in Paris, then?"

"No. "

"Abroad?"

"In England. "

"A speculative country, that is true, " said Planchet, --"a country thatI know well. What sort of an affair, monsieur, without too muchcuriosity?"

"Planchet, it is a restoration. "

"Of monuments?"

"Yes, of monuments; we shall restore Whitehall. "

"That is important. And in a month, you think?"

"I shall undertake it. "

"That concerns you, monsieur, and when once you are engaged----"

"Yes, that concerns me. I know what I am about; nevertheless, I willfreely consult with you. "

"You do me great honor; but I know very little about architecture. "

"Planchet, you are wrong; you are an excellent architect, quite as goodas I am, for the case in question. "

"Thanks, monsieur. But your old friends of the musketeers?"

"I have been, I confess, tempted to speak of the thing to thosegentlemen, but they are all absent from their houses. It is vexatious, for I know none more bold or more able. "

"Ah! then it appears there will be an opposition, and the enterprisewill be disputed?"

"Oh, yes, Planchet, yes. "

"I burn to know the details, monsieur. "

"Here they are, Planchet--close all the doors tight. "

"Yes, monsieur. " And Planchet double-locked them. 

"That is well; now draw near. " Planchet obeyed. 

"And open the window, because the noise of the passers-by and thecarts will deafen all who might hear us. " Planchet opened the windowas desired, and the gust of tumult which filled the chamber with cries, wheels, barkings, and steps deafened D'Artagnan himself, as he hadwished. He then swallowed a glass of white wine and began in theseterms: "Planchet, I have an idea. "

"Ah! monsieur, I recognize you so well in that!" replied Planchet, panting with emotion. 

CHAPTER 20. Of the Society which was formed in the Rue des Lombards, atthe Sign of the Pilon d'Or, to carry out M. D'Artagnan's Idea

After a moment's silence, in which D'Artagnan appeared to be collecting, not one idea, but all his ideas--"It cannot be, my dear Planchet, " saidhe, "that you have not heard of his majesty Charles I. Of England?"

"Alas! yes, monsieur, since you left France in order to assist him, andthat, in spite of that assistance, he fell, and was near dragging youdown in his fall. "

"Exactly so; I see you have a good memory, Planchet. "

"Peste! the astonishing thing would be, if I could have lost thatmemory, however bad it might have been. When one has heard Grimaud, who, you know, is not given to talking, relate how the head of King Charlesfell, how you sailed the half of a night in a scuttled vessel, and sawfloating on the water that good M. Mordaunt with a certain gold-hafteddagger buried in his breast, one is not very likely to forget suchthings. "

"And yet there are people who forget them, Planchet. "

"Yes, such as have not seen them, or have not heard Grimaud relatethem. "

"Well, it is all the better that you recollect all that; I shall onlyhave to remind you of one thing, and that is that Charles I. Had a son. "

"Without contradicting you, monsieur, he had two, " said Planchet; "forI saw the second one in Paris, M. Le Duke of York, one day, as he wasgoing to the Palais Royal, and I was told that he was not the eldest sonof Charles I. As to the eldest, I have the honor of knowing him by name, but not personally. "

"That is exactly the point, Planchet, we must come to: it is to thiseldest son, formerly called the Prince of Wales, and who is now styledCharles II. , king of England. "

"A king without a kingdom, monsieur, " replied Planchet, sententiously. 

"Yes, Planchet, and you may add an unfortunate prince, more unfortunatethan the poorest man of the people lost in the worst quarter of Paris. "

Planchet made a gesture full of that sort of compassion which we grantto strangers with whom we think we can never possibly find ourselves incontact. Besides, he did not see in this politico-sentimental operationany sign of the commercial idea of M. D'Artagnan, and it was in thisidea that D'Artagnan, who was, from habit, pretty well acquainted withmen and things, had principally interested Planchet. 

"I am coming to our business. This young Prince of Wales, a king withouta kingdom, as you have so well said, Planchet, has interested me. I, D'Artagnan, have seen him begging assistance of Mazarin, who is a miser, and the aid of Louis, who is a child, and it appeared to me, who amacquainted with such things, that in the intelligent eye of the fallenking, in the nobility of his whole person, a nobility apparent aboveall his miseries, I could discern the stuff of a man and the heart of aking. "

Planchet tacitly approved of all this; but it did not at all, in hiseyes at least, throw any light upon D'Artagnan's idea. The lattercontinued: "This, then, is the reasoning which I made with myself. Listen attentively, Planchet, for we are coming to the conclusion. "

"I am listening. "

"Kings are not so thickly sown upon the earth, that people can findthem whenever they want them. Now, this king without a kingdom is, inmy opinion, a grain of seed which will blossom in some season or other, provided a skillful, discreet, and vigorous hand sow it duly and truly, selecting soil, sky, and time. "

Planchet still approved by a nod of his head, which showed that he didnot perfectly comprehend all that was said. 

"'Poor little seed of a king, ' said I to myself, and really I wasaffected, Planchet, which leads me to think I am entering upon a foolishbusiness. And that is why I wished to consult you, my friend. "

Planchet colored with pleasure and pride. 

"'Poor little seed of a king! I will pick you up and cast you into goodground. '"

"Good God!" said Planchet, looking earnestly at his old master, as if indoubt as to the state of his reason. 

"Well, what is it?" said D'Artagnan; "who hurts you?"

"Me! nothing, monsieur. "

"You said, 'Good God!'"

"Did I?"

"I am sure you did. Can you already understand?"

"I confess, M. D'Artagnan, that I am afraid----"

"To understand?"

"Yes. "

"To understand that I wish to replace upon his throne this King CharlesII. , who has no throne? Is that it?"

Planchet made a prodigious bound in his chair. "Ah, ah!" said he, inevident terror, "that is what you call a restoration!"

"Yes, Planchet; is it not the proper term for it?"

"Oh, no doubt, no doubt! But have you reflected seriously?"

"Upon what?"

"Upon what is going on yonder. "

"Where?"

"In England. "

"And what is that? let us see, Planchet. "

"In the first place, monsieur, I ask your pardon for meddling in thesethings, which have nothing to do with my trade; but since it is anaffair that you propose to me--for you are proposing an affair, are younot?----"

"A superb one, Planchet. "

"But as it is business you propose to me, I have the right to discussit. "

"Discuss it, Planchet; out of discussion is born light. "

"Well, then, since I have monsieur's permission, I will tell him thatthere is yonder, in the first place, the parliament. "

"Well, next?"

"And then the army. "

"Good! Do you see anything else?"

"Why, then the nation. "

"Is that all?"

"The nation which consented to the overthrow and death of the lateking, the father of this one, and which will not be willing to belie itsacts. "

"Planchet, " said D'Artagnan, "you argue like a cheese! The nation--thenation is tired of these gentlemen who give themselves such barbarousnames, and who sing songs to it. Chanting for chanting, my dearPlanchet; I have remarked that nations prefer singing a merry chant tothe plain chant. Remember the Fronde; what did they sing in those times?Well those were good times. "

"Not too good, not too good! I was near being hung in those times. "

"Well, but you were not. "

"No. "

"And you laid the foundation of your fortune in the midst of all thosesongs?"

"That is true. "

"Then you have nothing to say against them. "

"Well, I return, then, to the army and parliament. "

"I say that I borrow twenty thousand livres of M. Planchet, and thatI put twenty thousand livres of my own to it, and with these fortythousand livres I raise an army. "

Planchet clasped his hands; he saw that D'Artagnan was in earnest, and, in good truth, he believed his master had lost his senses. 

"An army!--ah, monsieur, " said he, with his most agreeable smile, for fear of irritating the madman, and rendering him furious, --"anarmy!--how many?"

"Of forty men, " said D'Artagnan. 

"Forty against forty thousand! that is not enough. I know very well thatyou, M. D'Artagnan, alone, are equal to a thousand men, but where arewe to find thirty-nine men equal to you? Or, if we could find them, whowould furnish you with money to pay them?"

"Not bad, Planchet. Ah, the devil! you play the courtier. "

"No, monsieur, I speak what I think, and that is exactly why I say that, in the first pitched battle you fight with your forty men, I am verymuch afraid----"

"Therefore I shall fight no pitched battles, my dear Planchet, " said theGascon, laughing. "We have very fine examples in antiquity of skillfulretreats and marches, which consisted in avoiding the enemy instead ofattacking them. You should know that, Planchet, you who commandedthe Parisians the day on which they ought to have fought against themusketeers, and who so well calculated marches and countermarches, thatyou never left the Palais Royal. "

Planchet could not help laughing. "It is plain, " replied he, "that ifyour forty men conceal themselves, and are not unskillful, they may hopenot to be beaten: but you propose obtaining some result, do you not?"

"No doubt. This, then, in my opinion, is the plan to be proceeded uponin order quickly to replace his majesty Charles II. On his throne. "

"Good!" said Planchet, increasing his attention; "let us see your plan. But in the first place it seems to me we are forgetting something. "

"What is that?"

"We have set aside the nation, which prefers singing merry songs topsalms, and the army, which we will not fight: but the parliamentremains, and that seldom sings. "

"Nor does it fight. How is it, Planchet, that an intelligent man likeyou should take any heed of a set of brawlers who call themselves Rumpsand Barebones. The parliament does not trouble me at all, Planchet. "

"As soon as it ceases to trouble you, monsieur, let us pass on. "

"Yes, and arrive at the result. You remember Cromwell, Planchet?"

"I have heard a great deal of talk about him. "

"He was a rough soldier. "

"And a terrible eater, moreover. "

"What do you mean by that?"

"Why, at one gulp he swallowed all England. "

"Well, Planchet, the evening before the day on which he swallowedEngland, if any one had swallowed M. Cromwell?"

"Oh, monsieur, it is one of the axioms of mathematics that the containermust be greater than the contained. "

"Very well! That is our affair, Planchet. "

"But M. Cromwell is dead, and his container is now the tomb. "

"My dear Planchet, I see with pleasure that you have not only become amathematician, but a philosopher. "

"Monsieur, in my grocery business I use much printed paper, and thatinstructs me. "

"Bravo! You know then, in that case--for you have not learnt mathematicsand philosophy without a little history--that after this Cromwell sogreat, there came one who was very little. "

"Yes; he was named Richard, and he has done as you have, M. D'Artagnan--he has tendered his resignation. "

"Very well said--very well! After the great man who is dead, after thelittle one who tendered his resignation, there came a third. This oneis named Monk; he is an able general, considering he has never fought abattle; he is a skillful diplomatist, considering that he never speaksin public, and that having to say 'good-day' to a man, he meditatestwelve hours, and ends by saying 'good-night;' which makes peopleexclaim 'miracle!' seeing that it falls out correctly. "

"That is rather strong, " said Planchet; "but I know another politicalman who resembles him very much. "

"M. Mazarin you mean?"

"Himself. "

"You are right, Planchet; only M. Mazarin does not aspire to the throneof France; and that changes everything. Do you see? Well, this M. Monk, who has England ready-roasted in his plate, and who is already openinghis mouth to swallow it--this M. Monk, who says to the people of CharlesII. , and to Charles II. Himself, 'Nescio vos'----"

"I don't understand English, " said Planchet. 

"Yes, but I understand it, " said D'Artagnan. "'Nescio vos' means 'I donot know you. ' This M. Monk, the most important man in England, when heshall have swallowed it----"

"Well?" asked Planchet. 

"Well, my friend, I shall go over yonder, and with my forty men, I shallcarry him off, pack him up, and bring him into France, where two modesof proceeding present themselves to my dazzled eyes. "

"Oh! and to mine too, " cried Planchet, transported with enthusiasm. "Wewill put him in a cage and show him for money. "

"Well, Planchet, that is a third plan, of which I had not thought. "

"Do you think it a good one?"

"Yes, certainly, but I think mine better. "

"Let us see yours, then. "

"In the first place, I shall set a ransom on him. "

"Of how much?"

"Peste! a fellow like that must be well worth a hundred thousandcrowns. "

"Yes, yes!"

"You see, then--in the first place, a ransom of a hundred thousandcrowns. "

"Or else----"

"Or else, what is much better, I deliver him up to King Charles, who, having no longer either a general or an army to fear, nor a diplomatistto trick him, will restore himself, and when once restored, will paydown to me the hundred thousand crowns in question. That is the idea Ihave formed; what do you say to it, Planchet?"

"Magnificent, monsieur!" cried Planchet, trembling with emotion. "Howdid you conceive that idea?"

"It came to me one morning on the banks of the Loire, whilst our belovedking, Louis XIV. , was pretending to weep upon the hand of Mademoisellede Mancini. "

"Monsieur, I declare the idea is sublime. But----"

"Ah! is there a but?"

"Permit me! But this is a little like the skin of that fine bear--youknow--that they were about to sell, but which it was necessary to takefrom the back of the living bear. Now, to take M. Monk, there will be abit of scuffle, I should think. "

"No doubt; but as I shall raise an army to----"

"Yes, yes--I understand, parbleu!--a coup-de-main. Yes, then, monsieur, you will triumph, for no one equals you in such sorts of encounters. "

"I certainly am lucky in them, " said D'Artagnan, with a proudsimplicity. "You know that if for this affair I had my dear Athos, mybrave Porthos, and my cunning Aramis, the business would be settled; butthey are all lost, as it appears, and nobody knows where to find them. I will do it, then, alone. Now, do you find the business good, and theinvestment advantageous?"

"Too much so--too much so. "

"How can that be?"

"Because fine things never reach the expected point. "

"This is infallible, Planchet, and the proof is that I undertake it. Itwill be for you a tolerably pretty gain, and for me a very interestingstroke. It will be said, 'Such was the old age of M. D'Artagnan, ' and Ishall hold a place in tales and even in history itself, Planchet. I amgreedy of honor. "

"Monsieur, " cried Planchet, "when I think that it is here, in my home, in the midst of my sugar, my prunes, and my cinnamon, that this giganticproject is ripened, my shop seems a palace to me. "

"Beware, beware, Planchet! If the least report of this escapes, there isthe Bastile for both of us. Beware, my friend, for this is a plot we arehatching. M. Monk is the ally of M. Mazarin--beware!"

"Monsieur, when a man has had the honor to belong to you, he knowsnothing of fear; and when he has the advantage of being bound up ininterests with you, he holds his tongue. "

"Very well, that is more your affair than mine, seeing that in a week Ishall be in England. "

"Depart, monsieur, depart--the sooner the better. "

"Is the money, then, ready?"

"It will be to-morrow, to-morrow you shall receive it from my own hands. Will you have gold or silver?"

"Gold; that is most convenient. But how are we going to arrange this?Let us see. "

"Oh, good Lord! in the simplest way possible. You shall give me areceipt, that is all. "

"No, no, " said D'Artagnan, warmly; "we must preserve order in allthings. "

"That is likewise my opinion; but with you, M. D'Artagnan----"

"And if I should die yonder--if I should be killed by a musket-ball--ifI should burst from drinking beer?"

"Monsieur, I beg you to believe that in that case I should be so muchafflicted at your death, that I should not think about the money. "

"Thank you, Planchet; but no matter. We shall, like two lawyers' clerks, draw up together an agreement, a sort of act, which may be called a deedof company. "

"Willingly, monsieur. "

"I know it is difficult to draw such a thing up, but we can try. "

"Let us try, then. " And Planchet went in search of pens, ink, andpaper. D'Artagnan took the pen and wrote:--"Between Messire d'Artagnan, ex-lieutenant of the king's musketeers, at present residing in theRue Tiquetonne, Hotel de la Chevrette; and the Sieur Planchet, grocer, residing in the Rue les Lombards, at the sign of the Pilon d'Or, it hasbeen agreed as follows:--A company, with a capital of forty thousandlivres, and formed for the purpose of carrying out an idea conceived byM. D'Artagnan, and the said Planchet approving of it in all points, will place twenty thousand livres in the hands of M. D'Artagnan. Hewill require neither repayment nor interest before the return of M. D'Artagnan from a journey he is about to take into England. On his part, M. D'Artagnan undertakes to find twenty thousand livres, which he willjoin to the twenty thousand already laid down by the Sieur Planchet. He will employ the said sum of forty thousand livres according to hisjudgment in an undertaking which is described below. On the day whenM. D'Artagnan shall have re-established, by whatever means, his majestyKing Charles II. Upon the throne of England, he will pay into the handsof M. Planchet the sum of----"

"The sum of a hundred and fifty thousand livres, " said Planchet, innocently, perceiving that D'Artagnan hesitated. 

"Oh, the devil, no!" said D'Artagnan, "the division cannot be made byhalf; that would not be just. "

"And yet, monsieur; we each lay down half, " objected Planchet, timidly. 

"Yes; but listen to this clause, my dear Planchet, and if you do notfind it equitable in every respect when it is written, well, we canscratch it out again:--'Nevertheless, as M. D'Artagnan brings to theassociation, besides his capital of twenty thousand livres, his time, his idea, his industry and his skin, --things which he appreciatesstrongly, particularly the last, --M. D'Artagnan will keep, of the threehundred thousand livres two hundred thousand livres for himself, whichwill make his share two-thirds. "

"Very well, " said Planchet. 

"Is it just?" asked D'Artagnan. 

"Perfectly just, monsieur. "

"And you will be contented with a hundred thousand livres?"

"Peste! I think so. A hundred thousand for twenty thousand!"

"And in a month, understand. "

"How, in a month?"

"Yes, I only ask one month. "

"Monsieur, " said Planchet, generously, "I give you six weeks. "

"Thank you, " replied the musketeer, politely; after which the twopartners reperused their deed. 

"That is perfect, monsieur, " said Planchet, "and the late M. Coquenard, the first husband of Madame la Baronne du Vallon, could not have done itbetter. "

"Do you find it so? Let us sign it, then. " And both affixed theirsignatures. 

"In this fashion, " said D'Artagnan, "I shall be under obligations to noone. "

"But I shall be under obligations to you, " said Planchet. 

"No; for whatever store I set by it, Planchet, I may lose my skinyonder, and you will lose all. A propos--peste!--that makes me think ofthe principal, an indispensable clause. I shall write it:--'In thecase of M. D'Artagnan dying in this enterprise, liquidation will beconsidered made, and the Sieur Planchet will give quittance from thatmoment to the shade of Messire d'Artagnan for the twenty thousand livrespaid by him into the hands of the said company. '"

This last clause made Planchet knit his brows a little, but when he sawthe brilliant eye, the muscular hand, the supple and strong back ofhis associate, he regained his courage, and, without regret, he at onceadded another stroke to his signature. D'Artagnan did the same. Thus wasdrawn the first known company contract; perhaps such things have beenabused a little since, both in form and principle. 

"Now, " said Planchet, pouring out the last glass of Anjou wine forD'Artagnan, --"now go to sleep, my dear master. "

"No, " replied D'Artagnan; "for the most difficult part now remains to bedone, and I will think over that difficult part. "

"Bah!" said Planchet; "I have such great confidence in you, M. D'Artagnan, that I would not give my hundred thousand livres for ninetythousand livres down. "

"And devil take me if I don't think you are right!" Upon whichD'Artagnan took a candle and went up to his bedroom. 

CHAPTER 21. In which D'Artagnan prepares to travel for the Firm ofPlanchet and Company

D'Artagnan reflected to such good purpose during the night that hisplan was settled by morning. "This is it, " said he, sitting up in bed, supporting his elbow on his knee, and his chin in his hand;--"this isit. I shall seek out forty steady, firm men, recruited among people alittle compromised, but having habits of discipline. I shall promisethem five hundred livres for a month if they return, nothing if theydo not return, or half for their kindred. As to food and lodging, thatconcerns the English, who have cattle in their pastures, bacon in theirbacon-racks, fowls in their poultry-yards, and corn in their barns. Iwill present myself to General Monk with my little body of troops. Hewill receive me. I shall win his confidence, and take advantage of it, as soon as possible. "

But without going farther, D'Artagnan shook his head and interruptedhimself. "No, " said he; "I should not dare to relate this to Athos;the way is therefore not honorable. I must use violence, " continuedhe, --"very certainly I must, but without compromising my loyalty. Withforty men I will traverse the country as a partisan. But if I fallin with, not forty thousand English, as Planchet said, but purely andsimply with four hundred, I shall be beaten. Supposing that among myforty warriors there should be found at least ten stupid ones--ten whowill allow themselves to be killed one after the other, from merefolly? No; it is, in fact, impossible to find forty men to be dependedupon--they do not exist. I must learn how to be contented with thirty. With ten men less I should have the right of avoiding any armedencounter, on account of the small number of my people; and if theencounter should take place, my chance is better with thirty men thanforty. Besides, I should save five thousand francs; that is to say, theeighth of my capital; that is worth the trial. This being so, I shouldhave thirty men. I shall divide them into three bands, --we will spreadourselves about over the country, with an injunction to reunite ata given moment; in this fashion, ten by ten, we should excite nosuspicion--we should pass unperceived. Yes, yes, thirty--that is amagic number. There are three tens--three, that divine number! And then, truly, a company of thirty men, when all together, will look ratherimposing. Ah! stupid wretch that I am!" continued D'Artagnan, "I wantthirty horses. That is ruinous. Where the devil was my head when Iforgot the horses? We cannot, however, think of striking such a blowwithout horses. Well, so be it, that sacrifice must be made; we canget the horses in the country--they are not bad, besides. But Iforgot--peste! Three bands--that necessitates three leaders; there isthe difficulty. Of the three commanders I have already one--that ismyself;--yes, but the two others will of themselves cost almost as muchmoney as all the rest of the troop. No; positively I must have but onelieutenant. In that ease, then, I should reduce my troop to twenty men. I know very well that twenty men is but very little; but since withthirty I was determined not to seek to come to blows, I should do somore carefully still with twenty. Twenty--that is a round number;that, besides, reduces the number of the horses by ten, which is aconsideration; and then, with a good lieutenant--Mordioux! what thingspatience and calculation are! Was I not going to embark with forty men, and I have now reduced them to twenty for an equal success? Ten thousandlivres saved at one stroke, and more safety; that is well! Now, then, let us see; we have nothing to do but to find this lieutenant--let himbe found, then; and after--That is not so easy; he must be brave andgood, a second myself. Yes, but a lieutenant must have my secret, and asthat secret is worth a million, and I shall only pay my man a thousandlivres, fifteen hundred at the most, my man will sell the secret toMonk. Mordioux! no lieutenant. Besides, this man, were he as mute asa disciple of Pythagoras, --this man would be sure to have in the troopsome favourite soldier, whom he would make his sergeant, the sergeantwould penetrate the secret of the lieutenant, in case the latter shouldbe honest and unwilling to sell it. Then the sergeant, less honest andless ambitious, will give up the whole for fifty thousand livres. Come, come! that is impossible. The lieutenant is impossible. But then I musthave no fractions; I cannot divide my troop into two, and act upontwo points, at once, without another self, who--But what is the use ofacting upon two points, as we have only one man to take? What can be thegood of weakening a corps by placing the right here, and the leftthere? A single corps--Mordioux! a single one, and that commanded byD'Artagnan. Very well. But twenty men marching in one band are suspectedby everybody; twenty horsemen must not be seen marching together, or acompany will be detached against them and the password will be required;the which company, upon seeing them embarrassed to give it, would shootM. D'Artagnan and his men like so many rabbits. I reduce myself then toten men; in this fashion I shall act simply and with unity; I shall beforced to be prudent, which is half the success in an affair of the kindI am undertaking; a greater number might, perhaps, have drawn me intosome folly. Ten horses are not many, either to buy or take. A capitalidea; what tranquillity it infuses into my mind! no more suspicions--nopasswords--no more dangers! Ten men, they are valets or clerks. Tenmen, leading ten horses laden with merchandise of whatever kind, aretolerated, well received everywhere. Ten men travel on account of thehouse of Planchet & Co. , of France--nothing can be said against that. These ten men, clothed like manufacturers, have a good cutlass or a goodmusket at their saddle-bow, and a good pistol in the holster. They neverallow themselves to be uneasy, because they have no evil designs. Theyare, perhaps, in truth, a little disposed to be smugglers, but whatharm is in that? Smuggling is not, like polygamy, a hanging offense. Theworst that can happen to us is the confiscation of our merchandise. Ourmerchandise confiscated--fine affair that! Come, come! it is a superbplan. Ten men only--ten men, whom I will engage for my service; ten menwho shall be as resolute as forty, who would cost me four times as much, and to whom, for greater security, I will never open my mouth as to mydesigns, and to whom I shall only say, 'My friends, there is a blowto be struck. ' Things being after this fashion, Satan will be verymalicious if he plays me one of his tricks. Fifteen thousand livressaved--that's superb--out of twenty!"

Thus fortified by his laborious calculations, D'Artagnan stopped at thisplan, and determined to change nothing in it. He had already on a listfurnished by his inexhaustible memory, ten men illustrious amongst theseekers of adventures, ill-treated by fortune, and not on good termswith justice. Upon this D'Artagnan rose, and instantly set off on thesearch, telling Planchet not to expect him to breakfast, and perhaps notto dinner. A day and a half spent in rummaging amongst certain dens ofParis sufficed for his recruiting; and, without allowing his adventurersto communicate with each other, he had picked up and got together, inless than thirty hours, a charming collection of ill-looking faces, speaking a French less pure than the English they were about to attempt. These men were, for the most part, guards, whose merit D'Artagnanhad had an opportunity of appreciating in various encounters, whomdrunkenness, unlucky sword-thrusts, unexpected winnings at play, or theeconomical reforms of Mazarin, had forced to seek shade and solitude, those two great consolers of irritated and chafing spirits. Theybore upon their countenances and in their vestments the traces of theheartaches they had undergone. Some had their visages scarred, --allhad their clothes in rags. D'Artagnan comforted the most needy ofthese brotherly miseries by a prudent distribution of the crowns of thesociety; then, having taken care that these crowns should be employed inthe physical improvement of the troop, he appointed a trysting placein the north of France, between Berghes and Saint Omer. Six days wereallowed as the utmost term, and D'Artagnan was sufficiently acquaintedwith the good-will, the good-humor, and the relative probity of theseillustrious recruits, to be certain that not one of them would fail inhis appointment. These orders given, this rendezvous fixed, he went tobid farewell to Planchet, who asked news of his army. D'Artagnan didnot think proper to inform him of the reduction he had made in hispersonnel. He feared that the confidence of his associate would beabated by such an avowal. Planchet was delighted to learn that the armywas levied, and that he (Planchet) found himself a kind of half king, who from his throne-counter kept in pay a body of troops destinedto make war against perfidious Albion, that enemy of all true Frenchhearts. Planchet paid down in double louis, twenty thousand livresto D'Artagnan, on the part of himself (Planchet), and twenty thousandlivres, still in double louis, in account with D'Artagnan. D'Artagnanplaced each of the twenty thousand francs in a bag, and weighing a bagin each hand, --"This money is very embarrassing, my dear Planchet, " saidhe. "Do you know this weighs thirty pounds?"

"Bah! your horse will carry that like a feather. "

D'Artagnan shook his head. "Don't tell me such things, Planchet: ahorse overloaded with thirty pounds, in addition to the rider and hisportmanteau, cannot cross a river so easily--cannot leap over a wall orditch so lightly; and the horse failing, the horseman fails. It is truethat you, Planchet, who have served in the infantry, may not be aware ofall that. "

"Then what is to be done, monsieur?" said Planchet, greatly embarrassed. 

"Listen to me, " said D'Artagnan. "I will pay my army on its return home. Keep my half of twenty thousand livres, which you can use during thattime. "

"And my half?" said Planchet. 

"I shall take that with me. "

"Your confidence does me honor, " said Planchet: "but supposing youshould not return?"

"That is possible, though not very probable. Then, Planchet, in case Ishould not return--give me a pen! I will make my will. " D'Artagnan tooka pen and some paper, and wrote upon a plain sheet, --"I, D'Artagnan, possess twenty thousand livres, laid up cent by cent during thirty yearsthat I have been in the service of his majesty the king of France. Ileave five thousand to Athos, five thousand to Porthos and five thousandto Aramis, that they may give the said sums in my name and their own tomy young friend Raoul, Vicomte de Bragelonne. I give the remaining fivethousand to Planchet, that he may distribute the fifteen thousandwith less regret among my friends. With which purpose I sign thesepresents. --D'Artagnan. 

Planchet appeared very curious to know what D'Artagnan had written. 

"Here, " said the musketeer, "read it"

On reading the last lines the tears came into Planchet's eyes. "Youthink, then, that I would not have given the money without that? Then Iwill have none of your five thousand francs. "

D'Artagnan smiled. "Accept it, accept it, Planchet; and in that way youwill only lose fifteen thousand francs instead of twenty thousand, andyou will not be tempted to disregard the signature of your master andfriend, by losing nothing at all. "

How well that dear Monsieur d'Artagnan knew the hearts of men andgrocers! They who have pronounced Don Quixote mad because he rode out tothe conquest of an empire with nobody but Sancho, his squire, and theywho have pronounced Sancho mad because he accompanied his master inhis attempt to conquer the said empire, --they certainly will have nohesitation in extending the same judgment to D'Artagnan and Planchet. And yet the first passed for one of the most subtle spirits among theastute spirits of the court of France. As to the second, he had acquiredby good right the reputation of having one of the longest headsamong the grocers of the Rue des Lombards; consequently of Paris, andconsequently of France. Now, to consider these two men from the point ofview from which you would consider other men, and the means by the aidof which they contemplated to restore a monarch to his throne, comparedwith other means, the shallowest brains of the country where brains aremost shallow must have revolted against the presumptuous madness of thelieutenant and the stupidity of his associate. Fortunately, D'Artagnanwas not a man to listen to the idle talk of those around him, or to thecomments that were made on himself. He had adopted the motto, "Act well, and let people talk. " Planchet on his part, had adopted this, "Act andsay nothing. " It resulted from this, that, according to the custom ofall superior geniuses, these two men flattered themselves intra pectus, with being in the right against all who found fault with them. 

As a beginning, D'Artagnan set out in the finest of possible weather, without a cloud in the heavens--without a cloud on his mind, joyousand strong, calm and decided, great in his resolution, and consequentlycarrying with him a tenfold dose of that potent fluid which the shocksof mind cause to spring from the nerves, and which procure for thehuman machine a force and an influence of which future ages will render, according to all probability, a more arithmetical account than we canpossibly do at present. He was again, as in times past, on that sameroad of adventures which had led him to Boulogne, and which he was nowtraveling for the fourth time. It appeared to him that he could almostrecognize the trace of his own steps upon the road, and that of hisfirst upon the doors of the hostelries;--his memory, always active andpresent, brought back that youth which neither thirty years later hisgreat heart nor his wrist of steel would have belied. What a rich naturewas that of this man! He had all the passions, all the defects, allthe weaknesses, and the spirit of contradiction familiar to hisunderstanding changed all these imperfections into correspondingqualities. D'Artagnan, thanks to his ever active imagination, was afraidof a shadow; and ashamed of being afraid, he marched straight up to thatshadow, and then became extravagant in his bravery if the danger provedto be real. Thus everything in him was emotion, and therefore enjoyment. He loved the society of others, but never became tired of his own; andmore than once, if he could have been heard when he was alone, he mighthave been seen laughing at the jokes he related to himself or the trickshis imagination created just five minutes before ennui might have beenlooked for. D'Artagnan was not perhaps so gay this time as he would havebeen with the prospect of finding some good friends at Calais, insteadof joining the ten scamps there; melancholy, however, did not visit himmore than once a day, and it was about five visits that he received fromthat somber deity before he got sight of the sea at Boulogne, and thenthese visits were indeed but short. But when once D'Artagnan foundhimself near the field of action, all other feelings but that ofconfidence disappeared never to return. From Boulogne he followed thecoast to Calais. Calais was the place of general rendezvous, and atCalais he had named to each of his recruits the hostelry of "Le GrandMonarque, " where living was not extravagant, where sailors messed, andwhere men of the sword, with sheath of leather, be it understood, foundlodging, table, food, and all the comforts of life, for thirty sousper diem. D'Artagnan proposed to himself to take them by surprisein flagrante delicto of wandering life, and to judge by the firstappearance if he could count on them as trusty companions. 

He arrived at Calais at half past four in the afternoon. 

CHAPTER 22. D'Artagnan travels for the House of Planchet and Company

The hostelry of "Le Grand Monarque" was situated in a little streetparallel to the port without looking out upon the port itself. Somelanes cut--as steps cut the two parallels of the ladder--the two greatstraight lines of the port and the street. By these lanes passengerscame suddenly from the port into the street, or from the street on tothe port. D'Artagnan, arrived at the port, took one of these lanes, andcame out in front of the hostelry of "Le Grand Monarque. " The momentwas well chosen and might remind D'Artagnan of his start in life atthe hostelry of the "Franc-Meunier" at Meung. Some sailors who had beenplaying at dice had started a quarrel, and were threatening each otherfuriously. The host, hostess, and two lads were watching with anxietythe circle of these angry gamblers, from the midst of which war seemedready to break forth, bristling with knives and hatchets. The play, nevertheless, was continued. A stone bench was occupied by two men, whoappeared thence to watch the door; four tables, placed at the back ofthe common chamber, were occupied by eight other individuals. Neitherthe men at the door, nor those at the tables, took any part in theplay or the quarrel. D'Artagnan recognized his ten men in these cold, indifferent spectators. The quarrel went on increasing. Every passionhas, like the sea, its tide which ascends and descends. Reaching theclimax of passion, one sailor overturned the table and the money whichwas upon it. The table fell, and the money rolled about. In an instantall belonging to the hostelry threw themselves upon the stakes, andmany a piece of silver was picked up by people who stole away whilst thesailors were scuffling with each other. 

The two men on the bench and the eight at the tables, although theyseemed perfect strangers to each other, these ten men alone, we say, appeared to have agreed to remain impassible amidst the cries of furyand the chinking of money. Two only contented themselves with pushingwith their feet combatants who came under their table. Two others, rather than take part in this disturbance, buried their hands in theirpockets; and another two jumped upon the table they occupied, as peopledo to avoid being submerged by overflowing water. 

"Come, come, " said D'Artagnan to himself, not having lost one of thedetails we have related, "this is a very fair gathering--circumspect, calm, accustomed to disturbance, acquainted with blows! Peste! I havebeen lucky. "

All at once his attention was called to a particular part of the room. The two men who had pushed the strugglers with their feet were assailedwith abuse by the sailors, who had become reconciled. One of them, half drunk with passion, and quite drunk with beer, came, in a menacingmanner, to demand of the shorter of these two sages by what right he hadtouched with his foot creatures of the good God, who were not dogs. And whilst putting this question, in order to make it more direct, heapplied his great fist to the nose of D'Artagnan's recruit. 

This man became pale, without its being to be discerned whether hispallor arose from anger or from fear; seeing which, the sailor concludedit was from fear, and raised his fist with the manifest intention ofletting it fall upon the head of the stranger. But though the threatenedman did not appear to move, he dealt the sailor such a severe blow inthe stomach that he sent him rolling and howling to the other side ofthe room. At the same instant, rallied by the esprit de corps, all thecomrades of the conquered man fell upon the conqueror. 

The latter, with the same coolness of which he had given proof, withoutcommitting the imprudence of touching his weapons, took up a beer-potwith a pewter-lid, and knocked down two or three of his assailants;then, as he was about to yield to numbers, the seven other silent menat the tables, who had not stirred, perceived that their cause was atstake, and came to the rescue. At the same time, the two indifferentspectators at the door turned round with frowning brows, indicatingtheir evident intention of taking the enemy in the rear, if the enemydid not cease their aggressions. 

The host, his helpers, and two watchmen who were passing, and who fromcuriosity had penetrated too far into the room, were mixed up in thetumult and showered with blows. The Parisians hit like Cyclops, with anensemble and a tactic delightful to behold. At length, obliged to beat aretreat before superior numbers, they formed an intrenchment behind thelarge table, which they raised by main force; whilst the two others, arming themselves each with a trestle, and using it like a greatsledge-hammer, knocked down at a blow eight sailors upon whose headsthey had brought their monstrous catapult in play. The floor was alreadystrewn with wounded, and the room filled with cries and dust, whenD'Artagnan, satisfied with the test, advanced, sword in hand, andstriking with the pommel every head that came in his way, he uttered avigorous hola! which put an instantaneous end to the conflict. A greatbackflood directly took place from the center to the sides of the room, so that D'Artagnan found himself isolated and dominator. 

"What is all this about?" then demanded he of the assembly, with themajestic tone of Neptune pronouncing the Quos ego. 

At the very instant, at the first sound of his voice, to carry onthe Virgilian metaphor, D'Artagnan's recruits, recognizing each hissovereign lord, discontinued their plank-fighting and trestle blows. Ontheir side, the sailors, seeing that long naked sword, that martialair, and the agile arm which came to the rescue of their enemies, in theperson of a man who seemed accustomed to command, the sailors picked uptheir wounded and their pitchers. The Parisians wiped their brows, andviewed their leader with respect. D'Artagnan was loaded with thanks bythe host of "Le Grand Monarque. " He received them like a man who knowsthat nothing is being offered that does not belong to him, and then saidhe would go and walk upon the port till supper was ready. Immediatelyeach of the recruits, who understood the summons, took his hat, brushedthe dust off his clothes, and followed D'Artagnan. But D'Artagnan whilstwalking and observing, took care not to stop; he directed his coursetowards the downs, and the ten men--surprised at finding themselvesgoing in the track of each other, uneasy at seeing on their right, on their left, and behind them, companions upon whom they had notreckoned--followed him, casting furtive glances at each other. It wasnot till he had arrived at the hollow part of the deepest down thatD'Artagnan, smiling to see them outdone, turned towards them, making afriendly sign with his hand. 

"Eh! come, come, gentlemen, " said he, "let us not devour each other; youare made to live together, to understand each other in all respects, andnot to devour one another. "

Instantly all hesitation ceased; the men breathed as if they had beentaken out of a coffin, and examined each other complacently. After thisexamination they turned their eyes towards their leader, who had longbeen acquainted with the art of speaking to men of that class, and whoimprovised the following little speech, pronounced with an energy trulyGascon:

"Gentlemen, you all know who I am. I have engaged you from knowingyou to be brave, and willing to associate you with me in a gloriousenterprise. Imagine that in laboring for me you labor for the king. Ionly warn you that if you allow anything of this supposition to appear, I shall be forced to crack your skulls immediately, in the manner mostconvenient to me. You are not ignorant, gentlemen, that state secretsare like a mortal poison: as long as that poison is in its box and thebox is closed, it is not injurious; out of the box, it kills. Now drawnear and you shall know as much of this secret as I am able to tellyou. " All drew close to him with an expression of curiosity. "Approach, "continued D'Artagnan, "and let not the bird which passes over our heads, the rabbit which sports on the downs, the fish which bounds from thewaters, hear us. Our business is to learn and to report to monsieurle surintendant of the finances to what extent English smuggling isinjurious to the French merchants. I shall enter every place, and seeeverything. We are poor Picard fishermen, thrown upon the coast by astorm. It is certain that we must sell fish, neither more nor less, liketrue fishermen. Only people might guess who we are, and might molestus; it is therefore necessary that we should be in a condition to defendourselves. And this is why I have selected men of spirit and courage. Weshall lead a steady life, and not incur much danger; seeing that wehave behind us a powerful protector, thanks to whom no embarrassmentis possible. One thing alone puzzles me; but I hope that after a shortexplanation, you will relieve me from that difficulty. The thing whichpuzzles me is taking with me a crew of stupid fishermen, which crew willannoy me immensely, whilst if, by chance, there were among you any whohave seen the sea----"

"Oh! don't let that trouble you, " said one of the recruits; "I was aprisoner among the pirates of Tunis three years, and can maneuver a boatlike an admiral. "

"See, " said D'Artagnan, "what an admirable thing chance is!" D'Artagnanpronounced these words with an indefinable tone of feigned bonhomie, forhe knew very well that the victim of pirates was an old corsair, and hadengaged him in consequence of that knowledge. But D'Artagnan never saidmore than there was need to say, in order to leave people in doubt. He paid himself with the explanation, and welcomed the effect, withoutappearing to be preoccupied with the cause. 

"And I, " said a second, "I, by chance, had an uncle who directed theworks of the port of La Rochelle. When quite a child, I played aboutthe boats, and I know how to handle an oar or a sail as well as the bestPonantais sailor. " The latter did not lie much more than the first, forhe had rowed on board his majesty's galleys six years, at Ciotat. Twoothers were more frank: they confessed honestly that they had servedon board a vessel as soldiers on punishment, and did not blush for it. D'Artagnan found himself, then, the leader of ten men of war and foursailors, having at once a land army and a sea force, which would haveearned the pride of Planchet to its height, if Planchet had known thedetails. 

Nothing was now left but arranging the general orders, and D'Artagnangave them with precision. He enjoined his men to be ready to set out forthe Hague, some following the coast which leads to Breskens, others theroad to Antwerp. The rendezvous was given, by calculating each day'smarch, a fortnight from that time upon the chief place at the Hague. D'Artagnan recommended his men to go in couples, as they liked best, from sympathy. He himself selected from among those with the leastdisreputable look, two guards whom he had formerly known, and whose onlyfaults were being drunkards and gamblers. These men had not entirelylost all ideas of civilization, and under proper garments their heartswould beat again. D'Artagnan, not to create any jealousy with theothers, made the rest go forward. He kept his two selected ones, clothedthem from his own wardrobe, and set out with them. 

It was to these two, whom he seemed to honor with an absoluteconfidence, that D'Artagnan imparted a false secret, destined to securethe success of the expedition. He confessed to them that the object wasnot to learn to what extent the French merchants were injured by Englishsmuggling, but to learn how far French smuggling could annoy Englishtrade. These men appeared convinced; they were effectively so. D'Artagnan was quite sure that at the first debauch when thoroughlydrunk, one of the two would divulge the secret to the whole band. Hisgame appeared infallible. 

A fortnight after all we have said had taken place at Calais, the wholetroop assembled at the Hague. 

Then D'Artagnan perceived that all his men, with remarkableintelligence, had already travestied themselves into sailors, more orless ill-treated by the sea. D'Artagnan left them to sleep in a den inNewkerke street, whilst he lodged comfortably upon the Grand Canal. Helearned that the king of England had come back to his old ally, WilliamII. Of Nassau, stadtholder of Holland. He learned also that the refusalof Louis XIV. Had a little cooled the protection afforded him up to thattime, and in consequence he had gone to reside in a little village houseat Scheveningen, situated in the downs, on the sea-shore, about a leaguefrom the Hague. 

There, it was said, the unfortunate banished king consoled himself inhis exile, by looking, with the melancholy peculiar to the princesof his race, at that immense North Sea, which separated him from hisEngland, as it had formerly separated Mary Stuart from France. Therebehind the trees of the beautiful wood of Scheveningen on the fine sandupon which grows the golden broom of the down, Charles II. Vegetated asit did, more unfortunate, for he had life and thought, and he hoped anddespaired by turns. 

D'Artagnan went once as far as Scheveningen, in order to be certain thatall was true that was said of the king. He beheld Charles II. , pensiveand alone, coming out of a little door opening into the wood, andwalking on the beach in the setting sun, without even attracting theattention of the fishermen, who, on their return in the evening, drew, like the ancient mariners of the Archipelago, their barks up upon thesand of the shore. 

D'Artagnan recognized the king; he saw him fix his melancholy look uponthe immense extent of the waters, and absorb upon his pale countenancethe red rays of the sun already cut by the black line of the horizon. Then Charles returned to his isolated abode, always alone, slow and sad, amusing himself with making the friable and moving sand creak beneathhis feet. 

That very evening D'Artagnan hired for a thousand livres a fishing-boatworth four thousand. He paid a thousand livres down, and depositedthe three thousand with a Burgomaster, after which he brought on boardwithout their being seen, the ten men who formed his land army; and withthe rising tide, at three o'clock in the morning, he got into the opensea, maneuvering ostensibly with the four others, and depending upon thescience of his galley slave as upon that of the first pilot of the port. 

CHAPTER 23. In which the Author, very unwillingly, is forced to write aLittle History

While kings and men were thus occupied with England, which governeditself quite alone, and which, it must be said in its praise, had neverbeen so badly governed, a man upon whom God had fixed his eye, andplaced his finger, a man predestined to write his name in brilliantletters upon the page of history, was pursuing in the face of the worlda work full of mystery and audacity. He went on, and no one knew whitherhe meant to go, although not only England, but France, and Europe, watched him marching with a firm step and head held high. All that wasknown of this man we are about to tell. 

Monk had just declared himself in favor of the liberty of the RumpParliament, a parliament which General Lambert, imitating Cromwell, whose lieutenant he had been, had just blocked up so closely, in orderto bring it to his will, that no member, during all the blockade, wasable to go out, and only one, Peter Wentworth, had been able to get in. 

Lambert and Monk--everything was summed up in these two men; the firstrepresenting military despotism, the second pure republicanism. Thesemen were the two sole political representatives of that revolution inwhich Charles I. Had first lost his crown, and afterwards his head. Asregarded Lambert, he did not dissemble his views; he sought to establisha military government, and to be himself the head of that government. 

Monk, a rigid republican, some said, wished to maintain the RumpParliament, that visible though degenerated representative of therepublic. Monk, artful and ambitious, said others, wished simply to makeof this parliament, which he affected to protect, a solid step by whichto mount the throne which Cromwell had left empty, but upon which he hadnever dared to take his seat. 

Thus Lambert by persecuting the parliament, and Monk by declaring forit, had mutually proclaimed themselves enemies of each other. Monk andLambert, therefore, had at first thought of creating an army eachfor himself: Monk in Scotland, where were the Presbyterians and theroyalists, that is to say, the malcontents; Lambert in London, where wasfound, as is always the case, the strongest opposition to the existingpower which it had beneath its eyes. 

Monk had pacified Scotland, he had there formed for himself an army, andfound an asylum. The one watched the other. Monk knew that the day wasnot yet come, the day marked by the Lord for a great change; his sword, therefore, appeared glued to the sheath. Inexpugnable, in his wild andmountainous Scotland, an absolute general, king of an army of eleventhousand old soldiers, whom he had more than once led on to victory; aswell informed, nay, even better, of the affairs of London, than Lambert, who held garrison in the city, --such was the position of Monk, when, ata hundred leagues from London, he declared himself for the parliament. Lambert, on the contrary, as we have said, lived in the capital. Thatwas the center of all his operations, and he there collected aroundhim all his friends, and all the people of the lower class, eternallyinclined to cherish the enemies of constituted power. 

It was then in London that Lambert learnt the support that, from thefrontiers of Scotland, Monk lent to the parliament. He judged there wasno time to be lost, and that the Tweed was not so far distant fromthe Thames that an army could not march from one river to the other, particularly when it was well commanded. He knew, besides, that as fastas the soldiers of Monk penetrated into England, they would form ontheir route that ball of snow, the emblem of the globe of fortune, whichis for the ambitious nothing but a step growing unceasingly higherto conduct him to his object. He got together, therefore, his army, formidable at the same time for its composition and its numbers, andhastened to meet Monk, who, on his part, like a prudent navigatorsailing amidst rocks, advanced by very short marches, listening to thereports and scenting the air which came from London. 

The two armies came in sight of each other near Newcastle, Lambert, arriving first, encamped in the city itself. Monk, always circumspect, stopped where he was, and placed his general quarters at Coldstream, onthe Tweed. The sight of Lambert spread joy through Monk's army, whilst, on the contrary, the sight of Monk threw disorder into Lambert's army. It might have been thought that these intrepid warriors, who had madesuch a noise in the streets of London, had set out with the hopes ofmeeting no one, and that now seeing that they had met an army, and thatthat army hoisted before them not only a standard, but still further, acause and a principle, --it might have been believed, we say, thatthese intrepid warriors had begun to reflect, that they were less goodrepublicans than the soldiers of Monk, since the latter supported theparliament; whilst Lambert supported nothing, not even himself. 

As to Monk, if he had had to reflect, or if he did reflect, it must havebeen after a sad fashion, for history relates--and that modest dame, itis well known, never lies--history relates, that the day of his arrivalat Coldstream search was made in vain throughout the place for a singlesheep. 

If Monk had commanded an English army, that was enough to have broughtabout a general desertion. But it is not with the Scotch as it iswith the English, to whom that fluid flesh which is called blood isa paramount necessity; the Scotch, a poor and sober race, live upon alittle barley crushed between two stones, diluted with the water of thefountain, and cooked upon another stone, heated. 

The Scotch, their distribution of barley being made, cared very littlewhether there was or was not any meat in Coldstream. Monk, littleaccustomed to barley-cakes, was hungry, and his staff, at least ashungry as himself, looked with anxiety right and left, to know what wasbeing prepared for supper. 

Monk ordered search to be made; his scouts had on arriving in the placefound it deserted and the cupboards empty; upon butchers and bakers itwas of no use depending in Coldstream. The smallest morsel of bread, then, could not be found for the general's table. 

As accounts succeeded each other, all equally unsatisfactory, Monk, seeing terror and discouragement upon every face, declared that he wasnot hungry; besides they should eat on the morrow, since Lambert wasthere probably with the intention of giving battle, and consequentlywould give up his provisions, if he were forced from Newcastle, orforever to relieve Monk's soldiers from hunger if he conquered. 

This consolation was only efficacious upon a very small number; but ofwhat importance was it to Monk? for Monk was very absolute, under theappearance of the most perfect mildness. Every one, therefore, wasobliged to be satisfied, or at least to appear so. Monk quite as hungryas his people, but affecting perfect indifference for the absent mutton, cut a fragment of tobacco, half an inch long, from the carotte of asergeant who formed part of his suite, and began to masticate the saidfragment, assuring his lieutenants that hunger was a chimera, and that, besides, people were never hungry when they had anything to chew. 

This joke satisfied some of those who had resisted Monk's firstdeduction drawn from the neighborhood of Lambert's army; the number ofthe dissentients diminished greatly; the guard took their posts, thepatrols began, and the general continued his frugal repast beneath hisopen tent. 

Between his camp and that of the enemy stood an old abbey, of which, at the present day, there only remain some ruins, but which then wasin existence, and was called Newcastle Abbey. It was built upon a vastsite, independent at once of the plain and of the river, because it wasalmost a marsh fed by springs and kept up by rains. Nevertheless, inthe midst of these pools of water, covered with long grass, rushes, and reeds, were seen solid spots of ground, formerly used as thekitchen-garden, the park, the pleasure-gardens, and other dependenciesof the abbey, looking like one of those great sea-spiders, whose body isround, whilst the claws go diverging round from this circumference. 

The kitchen-garden, one of the longest claws of the abbey, extended toMonk's camp. Unfortunately it was, as we have said, early in June, andthe kitchen-garden, being abandoned, offered no resources. 

Monk had ordered this spot to be guarded, as most subject to surprises. The fires of the enemy's general were plainly to be perceived on theother side of the abbey. But between these fires and the abbey extendedthe Tweed, unfolding its luminous scales beneath the thick shade oftall green oaks. Monk was perfectly well acquainted with this position, Newcastle and its environs having already more than once been hisheadquarters. He knew that by day his enemy might without doubt throw afew scouts into these ruins and promote a skirmish, but that by night hewould take care to abstain from such a risk. He felt himself, therefore, in security. 

Thus his soldiers saw him, after what he boastingly called hissupper--that is to say, after the exercise of mastication reported byus at the commencement of this chapter--like Napoleon on the eve ofAusterlitz, seated asleep in his rush chair, half beneath the light ofhis lamp, half beneath the reflection of the moon, commencing its ascentin the heavens, which denoted that it was nearly half past nine in theevening. All at once Monk was roused from his half sleep, fictitiousperhaps, by a troop of soldiers, who came with joyous cries, and kickedthe poles of his tent with a humming noise as if on purpose to wake him. There was no need of so much noise; the general opened his eyes quickly. 

"Well, my children, what is going on now?" asked the general. 

"General!" replied several voices at once, "General! you shall have somesupper. "

"I have had my supper, gentlemen, " replied he, quietly, "and wascomfortably digesting it, as you see. But come in, and tell me whatbrings you hither. "

"Good news, general. "

"Bah! Has Lambert sent us word that he will fight to-morrow?"

"No, but we have just captured a fishing-boat conveying fish toNewcastle. "

"And you have done very wrong, my friends. These gentlemen from Londonare delicate, must have their first course; you will put them sadly outof humor this evening, and to-morrow they will be pitiless. It wouldreally be in good taste to send back to Lambert both his fish and hisfishermen, unless----" and the general reflected an instant. 

"Tell me, " continued he, "what are these fishermen, if you please?"

"Some Picard seamen who were fishing on the coasts of France or Holland, and who have been thrown upon ours by a gale of wind. "

"Do any among them speak our language?"

"The leader spoke some few words of English. "

The mistrust of the general was awakened in proportion as freshinformation reached him. "That is well, " said he. "I wish to see thesemen, bring them to me. "

An officer immediately went to fetch them. 

"How many are there of them?" continued Monk; "and what is theirvessel?"

"There are ten or twelve of them, general, and they were aboard of akind of chasse-maree, as it is called--Dutch-built, apparently. "

"And you say they were carrying fish to Lambert's camp?"

"Yes, general, and they seem to have had good luck in their fishing. "

"Humph! we shall see that, " said Monk. 

At this moment the officer returned, bringing the leader of thefishermen with him. He was a man from fifty to fifty-five years old, but good-looking for his age. He was of middle height, and wore ajustaucorps of coarse wool, a cap pulled down over his eyes, a cutlasshung from his belt, and he walked with the hesitation peculiar tosailors, who, never knowing, thanks to the movement of the vessel, whether their foot will be placed upon the plank or upon nothing, giveto every one of their steps a fall as firm as if they were driving apile. Monk, with an acute and penetrating look, examined the fishermanfor some time, while the latter smiled, with that smile half cunning, half silly, peculiar to French peasants. 

"Do you speak English?" asked Monk, in excellent French. 

"Ah! but badly, my lord, " replied the fisherman. 

This reply was made much more with the lively and sharp accentuation ofthe people beyond the Loire, than with the slightly-drawling accent ofthe countries of the west and north of France. 

"But you do speak it?" persisted Monk, in order to examine his accentonce more. 

"Eh! we men of the sea, " replied the fisherman, "speak a little of alllanguages. "

"Then you are a sea fisherman?"

"I am at present, my lord--a fisherman, and a famous fisherman too. Ihave taken a barbel that weighs at least thirty pounds, and morethan fifty mullets; I have also some little whitings that will frybeautifully. "

"You appear to me to have fished more frequently in the Gulf of Gasconythan in the Channel, " said Monk, smiling. 

"Well, I am from the south; but does that prevent me from being a goodfisherman, my lord?"

"Oh! not at all; I shall buy your fish. And now speak frankly; for whomdid you destine them?"

"My lord, I will conceal nothing from you. I was going to Newcastle, following the coast, when a party of horsemen who were passing alongin an opposite direction made a sign to my bark to turn back to yourhonor's camp, under penalty of a discharge of musketry. As I was notarmed for fighting, " added the fisherman, smiling, "I was forced tosubmit. "

"And why did you go to Lambert's camp in preference to mine?"

"My lord, I will be frank; will your lordship permit me?"

"Yes, and even if need be shall command you to be so. "

"Well, my lord, I was going to M. Lambert's camp because those gentlemenfrom the city pay well--whilst your Scotchmen, Puritans, Presbyterians, Covenanters, or whatever you choose to call them, eat but little, andpay for nothing. "

Monk shrugged his shoulders, without, however, being able to refrainfrom smiling at the same time. "How is it that, being from the south, you come to fish on our coasts?"

"Because I have been fool enough to marry in Picardy. "

"Yes; but even Picardy is not England. "

"My lord, man shoves his boat into the sea, but God and the wind do therest, and drive the boat where they please. "

"You had, then, no intention of landing on our coasts?"

"Never. "

"And what route were you steering?"

"We were returning from Ostend, where some mackerel had already beenseen, when a sharp wind from the south drove us from our course; then, seeing that it was useless to struggle against it, we let it drive us. It then became necessary, not to lose our fish, which were good, to goand sell them at the nearest English port, and that was Newcastle. We were told the opportunity was good, as there was an increase ofpopulation in the camp, an increase of population in the city; both, we were told, were full of gentlemen, very rich and very hungry. So westeered our course towards Newcastle. "

"And your companions, where are they?"

"Oh, my companions have remained on board; they are sailors without theleast instruction. "

"Whilst you----" said Monk. 

"Who, I?" said the patron, laughing; "I have sailed about with myfather, and I know what is called a sou, a crown, a pistole, a louis, and a double louis, in all the languages of Europe; my crew, therefore, listen to me as they would to an oracle, and obey me as if I were anadmiral. "

"Then it was you who preferred M. Lambert as the best customer?"

"Yes, certainly. And, to be frank, my lord, was I wrong?"

"You will see that by and by. "

"At all events, my lord, if there is a fault, the fault is mine; and mycomrades should not be dealt hardly with on that account. "

"This is decidedly an intelligent, sharp fellow, " thought Monk. Then, after a few minutes, silence employed in scrutinizing thefisherman, --"You come from Ostend, did you not say?" asked the general. 

"Yes, my lord, in a straight line. "

"You have then heard of the affairs of the day; for I have no doubt thatboth in France and Holland they excite interest. What is he doing whocalls himself king of England?"

"Oh, my lord!" cried the fisherman, with loud and expansive frankness, "that is a lucky question, and you could not put it to anybody betterthan to me, for in truth I can make you a famous reply. Imagine, mylord, that when putting into Ostend to sell the few mackerel we hadcaught, I saw the ex-king walking on the downs waiting for his horses, which were to take him to the Hague. He is a rather tall, pale man, withblack hair, and somewhat hard-featured. He looks ill, and I don't thinkthe air of Holland agrees with him. "

Monk followed with the greatest attention the rapid, heightened, anddiffuse conversation of the fisherman, in a language which was nothis own, but which, as we have said, he spoke with great facility. Thefisherman on his part, employed sometimes a French word, sometimes anEnglish word, and sometimes a word which appeared not to belong to anylanguage, but was, in truth, pure Gascon. Fortunately his eyes spoke forhim, and that so eloquently, that it was possible to lose a wordfrom his mouth, but not a single intention from his eyes. The generalappeared more and more satisfied with his examination. "You must haveheard that this ex-king, as you call him, was going to the Hague forsome purpose?"

"Oh, yes, " said the fisherman, "I heard that. "

"And what was his purpose?"

"Always the same, " said the fisherman. "Must he not always entertain thefixed idea of returning to England?"

"That is true, " said Monk, pensively. 

"Without reckoning, " added the fisherman, "that the stadtholder--youknow, my lord, William II. ?"

"Well?"

"He will assist him with all his power. "

"Ah! did you hear that said?"

"No, but I think so. "

"You are quite a politician, apparently, " said Monk. 

"Why, we sailors, my lord, who are accustomed to study the water and theair--that is to say, the two most changeable things in the world--areseldom deceived as to the rest. "

"Now, then, " said Monk, changing the conversation, "I am told you aregoing to provision us. "

"I shall do my best, my lord. "

"How much do you ask for your fish in the first place?"

"Not such a fool as to name a price, my lord. "

"Why not?"

"Because my fish is yours. "

"By what right?"

"By that of the strongest. "

"But my intention is to pay you for it. "

"That is very generous of you, my lord. "

"And the worth of it----"

"My lord, I fix no price. "

"What do you ask, then?"

"I only ask to be permitted to go away. "

"Where?--to General Lambert's camp?"

"I!" cried the fisherman; "what should I go to Newcastle for, now I haveno longer any fish?"

"At all events, listen to me. "

"I do, my lord. "

"I shall give you some advice. "

"How, my lord!--pay me and give me good advice likewise! You overwhelmme, my lord. "

Monk looked more earnestly than ever at the fisherman, about whom hestill appeared to entertain some suspicion. "Yes, I shall pay you, andgive you a piece of advice, for the two things are connected. If youreturn, then, to General Lambert----"

The fisherman made a movement of his head and shoulders, whichsignified, "If he persists in it, I won't contradict him. "

"Do not cross the marsh, " continued Monk: "you will have money in yourpocket, and there are in the marsh some Scotch ambuscaders I have placedthere. Those people are very intractable; they understand but verylittle of the language which you speak, although it appears to me to becomposed of three languages. They might take from you what I had givenyou, and, on your return to your country, you would not fail to say thatGeneral Monk has two hands, the one Scotch, and the other English;and that he takes back with the Scotch hand what he has given with theEnglish hand. "

"Oh! general, I shall go where you like, be sure of that, " said thefisherman, with a fear too expressive not to be exaggerated. "I onlywish to remain here, if you will allow me to remain. "

"I readily believe you, " said Monk, with an imperceptible smile, "but Icannot, nevertheless, keep you in my tent. "

"I have no such wish, my lord, and desire only that your lordship shouldpoint out where you will have me posted. Do not trouble yourself aboutus--with us a night soon passes away. "

"You shall be conducted to your bark. "

"As your lordship pleases. Only, if your lordship would allow me to betaken back by a carpenter, I should be extremely grateful. "

"Why so?"

"Because the gentlemen of your army, in dragging my boat up the riverwith a cable pulled by their horses, have battered it a little uponthe rocks of the shore, so that I have at least two feet of water in myhold, my lord. "

"The greater reason why you should watch your boat, I think. "

"My lord, I am quite at your orders, " said the fisherman; "I shall emptymy baskets where you wish; then you will pay me, if you please to do so;and you will send me away, if it appears right to you. You see I am veryeasily managed and pleased, my lord. "

"Come, come, you are a very good sort of a fellow, " said Monk, whosescrutinizing glance had not been able to find a single shade in theclear eye of the fisherman. "Holloa, Digby!" An aide-de-camp appeared. "You will conduct this good fellow and his companions to the littletents of the canteens, in front of the marshes, so that they will benear their bark, and yet will not sleep on board to-night. What is thematter, Spithead?"

Spithead was the sergeant from whom Monk had borrowed a piece of tobaccofor his supper. Spithead, having entered the general's tent withoutbeing sent for, had drawn this question from Monk. 

"My lord, " said he, "a French gentleman has just presented himself atthe outposts and wishes to speak to your honor. "

All this was said, be it understood, in English; but notwithstanding, it produced a slight emotion in the fisherman, which Monk, occupied withhis sergeant, did not remark. 

"Who is the gentleman?" asked Monk. 

"My lord, " replied Spithead, "he told it me, but those devils of Frenchnames are so difficult to pronounce for a Scotch throat, that I couldnot retain it. I believe, however, from what the guards say, that it isthe same gentleman who presented himself yesterday at the halt, and whomyour honor would not receive. "

"That is true; I was holding a council of officers. "

"Will your honor give any orders respecting this gentleman?"

"Yes, let him be brought here. "

"Must we take any precautions?"

"Such as what?"

"Binding his eyes, for instance. "

"To what purpose? He can only see what I desire should be seen; thatis to say, that I have around me eleven thousand brave men, who askno better than to have their throats cut in honor of the parliament ofScotland and England. "

"And this man, my lord?" said Spithead, pointing to the fisherman, who, during this conversation, had remained standing and motionless, like aman who sees but does not understand. 

"Ah, that is true, " said Monk. Then turning towards the fisherman, --"Ishall see you again, my brave fellow, " said he; "I have selected alodging for you. Digby, take him to it. Fear nothing: your money shallbe sent to you presently. "

"Thank you, my lord, " said the fisherman, and after having bowed, heleft the tent, accompanied by Digby. Before he had gone a hundred paceshe found his companions, who were whispering with a volubility which didnot appear exempt from uneasiness, but he made them a sign which seemedto reassure them. "Hola, you fellows!" said the patron, "come this way. His lordship, General Monk, has the generosity to pay us for our fish, and the goodness to give us hospitality for to-night. "

The fishermen gathered round their leader, and, conducted by Digby, the little troop proceeded towards the canteens, the post, as may beremembered, which had been assigned them. As they went along in thedark, the fishermen passed close to the guards who were conducting theFrench gentleman to General Monk. This gentleman was on horseback, andenveloped in a large cloak, which prevented the patron from seeing him, however great his curiosity might be. As to the gentleman, ignorant thathe was elbowing compatriots, he did not pay any attention to the littletroop. 

The aid-de-camp settled his guests in a tolerably comfortable tent, from which was dislodged an Irish canteen woman, who went, with her sixchildren, to sleep where she could. A large fire was burning in frontof this tent, and threw its purple light over the grassy pools of themarsh, rippled by a fresh breeze. The arrangements made, the aid-de-campwished the fishermen good-night, calling to their notice that they mightsee from the door of the tent the masts of their bark, which was tossinggently on the Tweed, a proof that it had not yet sunk. The sight of thisappeared to delight the leader of the fishermen infinitely. 

CHAPTER 24. The Treasure

The French gentleman whom Spithead had announced to Monk, and who, closely wrapped in his cloak, had passed by the fishermen who left thegeneral's tent five minutes before he entered it, --the French gentlemanwent through the various posts without even casting his eyes around him, for fear of appearing indiscreet. As the order had been given, he wasconducted to the tent of the general. The gentleman was left alone inthe sort of ante-chamber in front of the principal body of the tent, where he awaited Monk, who only delayed till he had heard the reportof his people, and observed through the opening of the canvas thecountenance of the person who solicited an audience. 

Without doubt, the report of those who had accompanied the Frenchgentleman established the discretion with which he had behaved, for thefirst impression the stranger received of the welcome made him by thegeneral was more favorable than he could have expected at such a moment, and on the part of so suspicious a man. Nevertheless, according to hiscustom, when Monk found himself in the presence of a stranger, he fixedupon him his penetrating eyes, which scrutiny, the stranger, on hispart, sustained without embarrassment or notice. At the end of a fewseconds, the general made a gesture with his hand and head in sign ofattention. 

"My lord, " said the gentleman, in excellent English. "I have requestedan interview with your honor, for an affair of importance. "

"Monsieur, " replied Monk, in French, "you speak our language well for ason of the continent. I ask your pardon--for doubtless the question isindiscreet--do you speak French with the same purity?"

"There is nothing surprising, my lord, in my speaking English tolerably;I resided for some time in England in my youth, and since then I havemade two voyages to this country. " These words were spoken in French, and with a purity of accent that bespoke not only a Frenchman, but aFrenchman from the vicinity of Tours. 

"And what part of England have you resided in, monsieur?"

"In my youth, London, my lord, then, about 1635, I made a pleasure tripto Scotland; and lastly, in 1648, I lived for some time at Newcastle, particularly in the convent, the gardens of which are now occupied byyour army. "

"Excuse me, monsieur, but you must comprehend that these questions arenecessary on my part--do you not?"

"It would astonish me, my lord, if they were not asked. "

"Now, then, monsieur, what can I do to serve you? What do you wish?"

"This, my lord;--but, in the first place, are we alone?"

"Perfectly so, monsieur, except, of course, the post which guards us. "So saying, Monk pulled open the canvas with his hand, and pointed to thesoldier placed at ten paces from the tent, and who, at the first callcould have rendered assistance in a second. 

"In that case my lord, " said the gentleman, in as calm a tone as ifhe had been for a length of time in habits of intimacy with hisinterlocutor, "I have made up my mind to address myself to you, because Ibelieve you to be an honest man. Indeed, the communication I am about tomake to you will prove to you the esteem in which I hold you. "

Monk, astonished at this language, which established between him andthe French gentleman equality at least, raised his piercing eye to thestranger's face, and with a sensible irony conveyed by the inflectionof his voice alone, for not a muscle of his face moved, --"I thank you, monsieur, " said he; "but, in the first place, to whom have I the honorof speaking?"

"I sent you my name by your sergeant, my lord. "

"Excuse him, monsieur, he is a Scotchman, --he could not retain it. "

"I am called the Comte de la Fere, monsieur, " said Athos, bowing. 

"The Comte de la Fere?" said Monk, endeavoring to recollect the name. "Pardon me, monsieur, but this appears to be the first time I have everheard that name. Do you fill any post at the court of France?"

"None; I am a simple gentleman. "

"What dignity?"

"King Charles I. Made me a knight of the Garter, and Queen Anne ofAustria has given me the cordon of the Holy Ghost. These are my onlydignities. "

"The Garter! the Holy Ghost! Are you a knight of those two orders, monsieur?"

"Yes. "

"And on what occasions have such favors been bestowed upon you?"

"For services rendered to their majesties. "

Monk looked with astonishment at this man, who appeared to him so simpleand so great at the same time. Then, as if he had renounced endeavoringto penetrate this mystery of a simplicity and grandeur upon which thestranger did not seem disposed to give him any other information thanthat which he had already received, --"Did you present yourself yesterdayat our advanced posts?"

"And was sent back? Yes, my lord. "

"Many officers, monsieur, would permit no one to enter their camp, particularly on the eve of a probable battle. But I differ from mycolleagues, and like to leave nothing behind me. Every advice is good tome; all danger is sent to me by God, and I weigh it in my hand withthe energy He has given me. So, yesterday, you were only sent back onaccount of the council I was holding. To-day I am at liberty, --speak. "

"My lord, you have done much better in receiving me, for what I haveto say has nothing to do with the battle you are about to fight withGeneral Lambert, or with your camp; and the proof is, that I turned awaymy head that I might not see your men, and closed my eyes that I mightnot count your tents. No, I come to speak to you, my lord, on my ownaccount. "

"Speak, then, monsieur, " said Monk. 

"Just now, " continued Athos, "I had the honor of telling your lordshipthat for a long time I lived in Newcastle; it was in the time of CharlesI. , and when the king was given up to Cromwell by the Scots. "

"I know, " said Monk, coldly. 

"I had at that time a large sum in gold, and on the eve of the battle, from a presentiment perhaps of the turn which things would take onthe morrow, I concealed it in the principal vault of the conventof Newcastle, in the tower whose summit you now see silvered by themoonbeams. My treasure has then remained interred there, and I have cometo entreat your honor to permit me to withdraw it before, perhaps, thebattle turning that way, a mine or some other war engine has destroyedthe building and scattered my gold, or rendered it so apparent that thesoldiers will take possession of it. "

Monk was well acquainted with mankind, he saw in the physiognomy ofthis gentleman all the energy, all the reason, all the circumspectionpossible, he could therefore only attribute to a magnanimous confidencethe revelation the Frenchman had made him, and he showed himselfprofoundly touched by it. 

"Monsieur, " said he, "you have augured well of me. But is the sum worththe trouble to which you expose yourself? Do you even believe that itcan be in the place where you left it?"

"It is there, monsieur, I do not doubt. "

"That is a reply to one question; but to the other. I asked you if thesum was so large as to warrant your exposing yourself thus. "

"It is really large; yes, my lord, for it is a million I inclosed in twobarrels. "

"A million!" cried Monk, at whom this time, in turn, Athos lookedearnestly and long. Monk perceived this, and his mistrust returned. 

"Here is a man, " said he, "who is laying a snare for me. So you wish towithdraw this money, monsieur, " replied he, "as I understand?"

"If you please, my lord. "

"To-day?"

"This very evening, and that on account of the circumstances I havenamed. "

"But, monsieur, " objected Monk, "General Lambert is as near the abbeywhere you have to act as I am. Why, then, have you not addressedyourself to him?"

"Because, my lord, when one acts in important matters, it is best toconsult one's instinct before everything. Well, General Lambert does notinspire me with so much confidence as you do. "

"Be it so, monsieur. I shall assist you in recovering your money, if, however, it can still be there; for that is far from likely. Since 1648twelve years have rolled away, and many events have taken place. " Monkdwelt upon this point to see if the French gentleman would seize theevasions that were open to him, but Athos did not hesitate. 

"I assure you, my lord, " he said firmly, "that my conviction is, thatthe two barrels have neither changed place nor master. " This replyhad removed one suspicion from the mind of Monk, but it had suggestedanother. Without doubt this Frenchman was some emissary sent to enticeinto error the protector of the parliament; the gold was nothing but alure; and by the help of this lure they thought to excite the cupidityof the general. This gold might not exist. It was Monk's business, then, to seize the Frenchman in the act of falsehood and trick, and to drawfrom the false step itself in which his enemies wished to entrap him, atriumph for his renown. When Monk was determined how to act, --

"Monsieur, " said he to Athos, "without doubt you will do me the honor toshare my supper this evening?"

"Yes, my lord, " replied Athos, bowing, "for you do me an honor of whichI feel myself worthy, by the inclination which drew me towards you. "

"It is so much the more gracious on your part to accept my invitationwith such frankness, as my cooks are but few and inexperienced, and myproviders have returned this evening empty-handed; so that if it had notbeen for a fisherman of your nation who strayed into our camp, GeneralMonk would have gone to bed without his supper to-day; I have, then, some fresh fish to offer you, as the vendor assures me. "

"My lord, it is principally for the sake of having the honor to passanother hour with you. "

After this exchange of civilities, during which Monk had lost nothing ofhis circumspection, the supper, or what was to serve for one, had beenlaid upon a deal table. Monk invited the Comte de la Fere to be seatedat this table, and took his place opposite to him. A single dish ofboiled fish, set before the two illustrious guests, was more tempting tohungry stomachs than to delicate palates. 

Whilst supping, that is, while eating the fish, washed down with badale, Monk got Athos to relate to him the last events of the Fronde, thereconciliation of M. De Conde with the king, and the probable marriageof the infanta of Spain; but he avoided, as Athos himself avoided it, all allusion to the political interests which united, or rather whichdisunited at this time, England, France and Holland. 

Monk, in this conversation, convinced himself of one thing, which hemust have remarked after the first words exchanged: that was, that hehad to deal with a man of high distinction. He could not be an assassin, and it was repugnant to Monk to believe him to be a spy, but there wassufficient finesse and at the same time firmness in Athos to lead Monkto fancy he was a conspirator. When they had quitted table, "You stillbelieve in your treasure, then, monsieur?" asked Monk. 

"Yes, my lord. "

"Quite seriously?"

"Seriously. "

"And you think you can find the place again where it was buried?"

"At the first inspection. "

"Well, monsieur, from curiosity I shall accompany you. And it is somuch the more necessary that I should accompany you, that you would findgreat difficulties in passing through the camp without me or one of mylieutenants. "

"General, I would not suffer you to inconvenience yourself if I did not, in fact, stand in need of your company; but as I recognize that thiscompany is not only honorable, but necessary, I accept it. "

"Do you desire we should take any people with us?" asked Monk. 

"General, I believe that would be useless, if you yourself do not seethe necessity for it. Two men and a horse will suffice to transport thetwo casks on board the felucca which brought me hither. "

"But it will be necessary to pick, dig and remove the earth, and splitstones; you don't intend doing this work yourself, monsieur, do you?"

"General, there is no picking or digging required. The treasure isburied in the sepulchral vault of the convent, under a stone in which isfixed a large iron ring and under which are four steps leading down. Thetwo casks are there, placed end to end, covered with a coat of plasterin the form of a bier. There is, besides, an inscription, which willenable me to recognize the stone; and as I am not willing, in an affairof delicacy and confidence, to keep the secret from your honor, here isthe inscription:--'Hic jacet venerabilis, Petrus Gulielmus Scott, CanonHonorab. Conventus Novi Castelli. Obiit quarta et decima. Feb. Ann. Dom. MCCVIII. Requiescat in pace. '"

Monk did not lose a single word. --He was astonished either at themarvelous duplicity of this man and the superior style in which heplayed his part, or at the good loyal faith with which he presented hisrequest, in a situation in which concerning a million of money, riskedagainst the blow from a dagger, amidst an army that would have lookedupon the theft as a restitution. 

"Very well, " said he; "I shall accompany you; and the adventure appearsto me so wonderful, that I shall carry the torch myself. " And sayingthese words, he girded on a short sword, placed a pistol in his belt, disclosing in this movement, which opened his doublet a little, thefine rings of a coat of mail, destined to protect him from the firstdagger-thrust of an assassin. After which he took a Scotch dirk in hisleft hand, and then turning to Athos, "Are you ready, monsieur?" saidhe. 

"I am. "

Athos, as if in opposition to what Monk had done, unfastened hisponiard, which he placed upon the table; unhooked his sword-belt, whichhe laid close to his poniard; and, without affectation, opening hisdoublet as if to look for his handkerchief, showed beneath his finecambric shirt his naked breast, without weapons either offensive ordefensive. 

"This is truly a singular man, " said Monk; "he is without any arms; hehas an ambuscade placed somewhere yonder. "

"General, " said he, as if he had divined Monk's thought, "you wish weshould be alone; that is very right, but a great captain ought never toexpose himself with temerity. It is night, the passage of the marsh maypresent dangers; be accompanied. "

"You are right, " replied he, calling Digby. The aid-de-camp appeared. "Fifty men with swords and muskets, " said he, looking at Athos. 

"That is too few if there is danger, too many if there is not. "

"I will go alone, " said Monk; "I want nobody. Come, monsieur. "

CHAPTER 25. The March

Athos and Monk passed over, in going from the camp towards the Tweed, that part of the ground which Digby had traversed with the fishermencoming from the Tweed to the camp. The aspect of this place, the aspectof the changes man had wrought in it, was of a nature to produce a greateffect upon a lively and delicate imagination like that of Athos. Athoslooked at nothing but these desolate spots; Monk looked at nothing butAthos--at Athos, who, with his eyes sometimes directed towards heaven, and sometimes towards the earth, sought, thought, and sighed. 

Digby, whom the last orders of the general, and particularly the accentwith which he had given them, had at first a little excited, followedthe pair at about twenty paces, but the general having turned round asif astonished to find his orders had not been obeyed, the aid-de-campperceived his indiscretion and returned to his tent. 

He supposed that the general wished to make, incognito, one of thosereviews of vigilance which every experienced captain never fails tomake on the eve of a decisive engagement: he explained to himself thepresence of Athos in this case as an inferior explains all that ismysterious on the part of his leader. Athos might be, and, indeed, inthe eyes of Digby, must be, a spy, whose information was to enlightenthe general. 

At the end of a walk of about ten minutes among the tents and posts, which were closer together near the headquarters, Monk entered upon alittle causeway which diverged into three branches. That on the left ledto the river, that in the middle to Newcastle Abbey on the marsh, thaton the right crossed the first lines of Monk's camp, that is to say, thelines nearest to Lambert's army. Beyond the river was an advanced postbelonging to Monk's army, which watched the enemy; it was composed ofone hundred and fifty Scots. They had swum across the Tweed, and, incase of attack, were to recross it in the same manner, giving the alarm;but as there was no post at that spot, and as Lambert's soldiers werenot so prompt at taking to the water as Monk's were, the latter appearednot to have much uneasiness on that side. On this side of the river, atabout five hundred paces from the old abbey, the fishermen had taken uptheir abode amidst a crowd of small tents raised by the soldiers of theneighboring clans, who had with them their wives and children. All thisconfusion, seen by the moon's light, presented a striking coup d'oeil;the half shadow enlarged every detail, and the light, that flattererwhich only attaches itself to the polished side of things, courted uponeach rusty musket the point still left intact, and upon every rag ofcanvas the whitest and least sullied part. 

Monk arrived then with Athos, crossing this spot, illumined with adouble light, the silver splendor of the moon, and the red blaze ofthe fires at the meeting of the three causeways; there he stopped, andaddressing his companion, --"Monsieur, " said he, "do you know your road?"

"General, if I am not mistaken, the middle causeway leads straight tothe abbey. "

"That is right; but we shall want lights to guide us in the vaults. "Monk turned round. 

"Ah! I thought Digby was following us!" said he. "So much the better; hewill procure us what we want. "

"Yes, general, there is a man yonder who has been walking behind us forsome time. "

"Digby!" cried Monk. "Digby! come here, if you please. "

But, instead of obeying, the shadow made a motion of surprise, and, retreating instead of advancing, it bent down and disappeared alongthe jetty on the left, directing its course towards the lodging of thefishermen. 

"It appears not to be Digby, " said Monk. 

Both had followed the shadow which had vanished. But it was not so rarea thing for a man to be wandering about at eleven o'clock at night, ina camp in which are reposing ten or eleven thousand men, as to give Monkand Athos any alarm at his disappearance. 

"As it is so, " said Monk, "and we must have a light, a lantern, a torch, or something by which we may see where to set our feet, let us seek thislight. "

"General, the first soldier we meet will light us. "

"No, " said Monk, in order to discover if there were not any connivancebetween the Comte de la Fere and the fisherman. "No, I should preferone of these French sailors who came this evening to sell me theirfish. They leave to-morrow, and the secret will be better kept by them;whereas, if a report should be spread in the Scotch army, that treasuresare to be found in the abbey of Newcastle, my Highlanders will believethere is a million concealed beneath every slab, and they will not leavestone upon stone in the building. "

"Do as you think best, general, " replied Athos in a natural tone ofvoice, making evident that soldier or fisherman was the same to him, andthat he had no preference. 

Monk approached the causeway behind which had disappeared the person hehad taken for Digby, and met a patrol who, making the tour of the tents, was going towards headquarters; he was stopped with his companion, gavethe password, and went on. A soldier, roused by the noise, unrolled hisplaid, and looked up to see what was going forward. "Ask him, " said Monkto Athos, "where the fishermen are; if I were to speak to him, he wouldknow me. "

Athos went up to the soldier, who pointed out the tent to him;immediately Monk and Athos turned towards it. It appeared to the generalthat at the moment they came up, a shadow like that they had alreadyseen glided into this tent; but on drawing nearer he perceived he musthave been mistaken, for all of them were asleep pele mele, and nothingwas seen but arms and legs joined, crossed, and mixed. Athos, fearinglest he should be suspected of connivance with some of his compatriots, remained outside the tent. 

"Hola!" said Monk, in French, "wake up here. " Two or three of thesleepers got up. 

"I want a man to light me, " continued Monk. 

"Your honor may depend upon us, " said a voice which made Athos start. "Where do you wish us to go?"

"You shall see. A light! come, quickly!"

"Yes, your honor. Does it please your honor that I should accompanyyou?"

"You or another, it is of very little consequence, provided I have alight. "

"It is strange!" thought Athos, "what a singular voice that man has!"

"Some fire, you fellows!" cried the fisherman; "come, make haste!"

Then addressing his companion nearest to him in a low voice:--"Get alight, Menneville, " said he, "and hold yourself ready for anything. "

One of the fishermen struck light from a stone, set fire to some tinder, and by the aid of a match lit a lantern. The light immediately spreadall over the tent. 

"Are you ready, monsieur?" said Monk to Athos, who had turned away, notto expose his face to the light. 

"Yes, general, " replied he. 

"Ah! the French gentleman!" said the leader of the fishermen tohimself. "Peste! I have a great mind to charge you with the commission, Menneville; he may know me. Light! light!" This dialogue was pronouncedat the back of the tent, and in so low a voice that Monk could not heara syllable of it; he was, besides, talking with Athos. Menneville gothimself ready in the meantime, or rather received the orders of hisleader. 

"Well?" said Monk. 

"I am ready, general, " said the fisherman. 

Monk, Athos, and the fisherman left the tent. 

"It is impossible!" thought Athos. "What dream could put that into myhead?"

"Go forward; follow the middle causeway, and stretch out your legs, "said Monk to the fisherman. 

They were not twenty paces on their way when the same shadow that hadappeared to enter the tent came out of it again, crawled along as faras the piles, and, protected by that sort of parapet placed alongthe causeway, carefully observed the march of the general. All threedisappeared in the night haze. They were walking towards Newcastle, thewhite stones of which appeared to them like sepulchres. After standingfor a few seconds under the porch, they penetrated into the interior. The door had been broken open by hatchets. A post of four men slept insafety in a corner, so certain were they that the attack would not takeplace on that side. 

"Will not these men be in your way?" said Monk to Athos. 

"On the contrary, monsieur, they will assist in rolling out the barrels, if your honor will permit them. "

"You are right. "

The post, though fast asleep, roused up at the first steps of the threevisitors amongst the briars and grass that invaded the porch. Monk gavethe password, and penetrated into the interior of the convent, precededby the light. He walked last, watching the least movement of Athos, hisnaked dirk in his sleeve, and ready to plunge it into the back of thegentleman at the first suspicious gesture he should see him make. ButAthos, with a firm and sure step, crossed the chambers and courts. 

Not a door, not a window was left in this building. The doors had beenburnt, some on the spot, and the charcoal of them was still jagged withthe action of the fire, which had gone out of itself, powerless, nodoubt, to get to the heart of those massive joints of oak fastenedtogether with iron nails. As to the windows, all the panes having beenbroken, night birds, alarmed by the torch, flew away through theirholes. At the same time, gigantic bats began to trace their vast, silentcircles around the intruders, whilst the light of the torch made theirshadows tremble on the high stone walls. Monk concluded there could beno man in the convent, since wild beasts and birds were there still, andfled away at his approach. 

After having passed the rubbish, and torn away more than one branch ofivy that had made itself a guardian of the solitude, Athos arrived atthe vaults situated beneath the great hall, but the entrance of whichwas from the chapel. There he stopped. "Here we are, general, " said he. 

"This, then, is the slab?"

"Yes. "

"Ay, and here is the ring--but the ring is sealed into the stone. "

"We must have a lever. "

"That's a thing very easy to find. "

Whilst looking round them, Athos and Monk perceived a little ash ofabout three inches in diameter, which had shot up in an angle of thewall, reaching a window, concealed by its branches. 

"Have you a knife?" said Monk to the fisherman. 

"Yes, monsieur. "

"Cut down this tree; then. "

The fisherman obeyed, but not without notching his cutlass. When theash was cut and fashioned into the shape of a lever, the three menpenetrated into the vault. 

"Stop where you are, " said Monk to the fisherman. "We are going to digup some powder; your light may be dangerous. "

The man drew back in a sort of terror, and faithfully kept to the postassigned him, whilst Monk and Athos turned behind a column at the footof which, penetrating through a crack, was a moonbeam, reflected exactlyon the stone which the Comte de la Fere had come so far in search. 

"This is it, " said Athos, pointing out to the general the Latininscription. 

"Yes, " said Monk. 

Then, as if still willing to leave the Frenchman one means of evasion, --

"Do you not observe that this vault has already been broken into, "continued he, "and that several statues have been knocked down?"

"My lord, you have, without doubt, heard that the religious respectof your Scots loves to confide to the statues of the dead the valuableobjects they have possessed during their lives. Therefore, the soldiershad reason to think that under the pedestals of the statues whichornament most of these tombs, a treasure was hidden. They haveconsequently broken down pedestal and statue: but the tomb of thevenerable canon, with which we have to do, is not distinguished byany monument. It is simple, therefore it has been protected by thesuperstitious fear which your Puritans have always had of sacrilege. Nota morsel of the masonry of this tomb has been chipped off. "

"That is true, " said Monk. 

Athos seized the lever. 

"Shall I help you?" said Monk. 

"Thank you, my lord; but I am not willing that your honor shouldlend your hand to a work of which, perhaps, you would not take theresponsibility if you knew the probable consequences of it. "

Monk raised his head. 

"What do you mean by that, monsieur?"

"I mean--but that man----"

"Stop, " said Monk; "I perceive what you are afraid of. I shall make atrial. " Monk turned towards the fisherman, the whole of whose profilewas thrown upon the wall. 

"Come here, friend!" said he in English, and in a tone of command. 

The fisherman did not stir. 

"That is well, " continued he: "he does not know English. Speak to me, then, in English, if you please, monsieur. "

"My lord, " replied Athos, "I have frequently seen men in certaincircumstances have sufficient command over themselves not to reply toa question put to them in a language they understood. The fisherman isperhaps more learned than we believe him to be. Send him away, my lord, I beg you. "

"Decidedly, " said Monk, "he wishes to have me alone in this vault. Nevermind, we shall go through with it; one man is as good as another man;and we are alone. My friend, " said Monk to the fisherman, "go backup the stairs we have just descended, and watch that nobody comes todisturb us. " The fisherman made a sign of obedience. "Leave your torch, "said Monk; "it would betray your presence, and might procure you amusket-ball. "

The fisherman appeared to appreciate the counsel; he laid down thelight, and disappeared under the vault of the stairs. Monk took up thetorch, and brought it to the foot of the column. 

"Ah, ah!" said he; "money, then, is concealed under this tomb?"

"Yes, my lord; and in five minutes you will no longer doubt it. "

At the same time Athos struck a violent blow upon the plaster, whichsplit, presenting a chink for the point of the lever. Athos introducedthe bar into this crack, and soon large pieces of plaster yielded, rising up like rounded slabs. Then the Comte de la Fere seized thestones and threw them away with a force that hands so delicate as hismight not have been supposed capable of having. 

"My lord, " said Athos, "this is plainly the masonry of which I told yourhonor. "

"Yes; but I do not yet see the casks, " said Monk. 

"If I had a dagger, " said Athos, looking round him, "you should soon seethem, monsieur. Unfortunately, I left mine in your tent. "

"I would willingly offer you mine, " said Monk, "but the blade is toothin for such work. "

Athos appeared to look around him for a thing of some kind that mightserve as a substitute for the weapon he desired. Monk did not lose oneof the movements of his hands, or one of the expressions of his eyes. "Why do you not ask the fisherman for his cutlass?" said Monk; "he has acutlass. "

"Ah! that is true, " said Athos, "for he cut the tree down with it. " Andhe advanced towards the stairs. 

"Friend, " said he to the fisherman, "throw me down your cutlass, if youplease; I want it. "

The noise of the falling weapon sounded on the steps. 

"Take it, " said Monk; "it is a solid instrument, as I have seen, and astrong hand might make good use of it. "

Athos only appeared to give to the words of Monk the natural and simplesense under which they were to be heard and understood. Nor did heremark, or at least appear to remark, that when he returned with theweapon, Monk drew back, placing his left hand on the stock of hispistol; in the right he already held his dirk. He went to work then, turning his back to Monk, placing his life in his hands, withoutpossible defense. He then struck, during several seconds, so skillfullyand sharply upon the intermediary plaster, that it separated into twoparts, and Monk was able to discern two barrels placed end to end, andwhich their weight maintained motionless in their chalky envelope. 

"My lord, " said Athos, "you see that my presentiments have not beendisappointed. "

"Yes, monsieur, " said Monk, "and I have good reason to believe you aresatisfied; are you not?"

"Doubtless, I am; the loss of this money would have been inexpressiblygreat to me: but I was certain that God, who protects the good cause, would not have permitted this gold, which should procure its triumph, tobe diverted to baser purposes. "

"You are, upon my honor, as mysterious in your words as in your actions, monsieur, " said Monk. "Just now I did not perfectly understand you whenyou said that you were not willing to throw upon me the responsibilityof the work we were accomplishing. "

"I had reason to say so, my lord. "

"And now you speak to me of the good cause. What do you mean by thewords 'the good cause'? We are defending at this moment, in England, five or six causes, which does not prevent every one from consideringhis own not only as the good cause, but as the best. What is yours, monsieur? Speak boldly, that we may see if, upon this point, to whichyou appear to attach a great importance, we are of the same opinion. "

Athos fixed upon Monk one of those penetrating looks which seem toconvey to him to whom they are directed a challenge to conceal a singleone of his thoughts; then, taking off his hat, he began in a solemnvoice, while his interlocutor, with one hand upon his visage, allowedthat long and nervous hand to compress his mustache and beard, while hisvague and melancholy eye wandered about the recesses of the vaults. 

CHAPTER 26. Heart and Mind

"My lord, " said the Comte de la Fere, "you are a noble Englishman, youare a loyal man; you are speaking to a noble Frenchman, to a man ofheart. The gold contained in these two casks before us, I have told youwas mine. I was wrong--it is the first lie I have pronounced in my life, a temporary lie, it is true. This gold is the property of King CharlesII. , exiled from his country, driven from his palaces, the orphan atonce of his father and his throne, and deprived of everything, even ofthe melancholy happiness of kissing on his knees the stone upon whichthe hands of his murderers have written that simple epitaph which willeternally cry out for vengeance upon them:--'Here lies Charles I. '"

Monk grew slightly pale, and an imperceptible shudder crept over hisskin and raised his gray mustache. 

"I, " continued Athos, "I, Comte de la Fere, the last, only faithfulfriend the poor abandoned prince has left, I have offered him to comehither to find the man upon whom now depends the fate of royalty and ofEngland; and I have come, and placed myself under the eye of this man, and have placed myself naked and unarmed in his hands, saying:--'Mylord, here are the last resources of a prince whom God made your master, whom his birth made your king; upon you, and you alone, depend his lifeand his future. Will you employ this money in consoling England for theevils it must have suffered from anarchy; that is to say, will you aid, and if not aid, will you allow King Charles II. To act? You are master, you are king, all-powerful master and king, for chance sometimes defeatsthe work of time and God. I am here alone with you, my lord: if dividedsuccess alarms you, if my complicity annoys you, you are armed, my lord, and here is a grave ready dug; if, on the contrary, the enthusiasm ofyour cause carries you away, if you are what you appear to be, if yourhand in what it undertakes obeys your mind, and your mind your heart, here are the means of ruining forever the cause of your enemy, CharlesStuart. Kill, then, the man you have before you, for that man will neverreturn to him who has sent him without bearing with him the depositwhich Charles I. , his father, confided to him, and keep the gold whichmay assist in carrying on the civil war. Alas! my lord, it is thefate of this unfortunate prince. He must either corrupt or kill, foreverything resists him, everything repulses him, everything is hostileto him; and yet he is marked with the divine seal, and he must, not tobelie his blood, reascend the throne, or die upon the sacred soil of hiscountry. '

"My lord, you have heard me. To any other but the illustrious man wholistens to me, I would have said: 'My lord, you are poor; my lord, theking offers you this million as an earnest of an immense bargain; takeit, and serve Charles II. As I served Charles I. , and I feel assuredthat God, who listens to us, who sees us, who alone reads in yourheart, shut from all human eyes, --I am assured God will give you ahappy eternal life after a happy death. ' But to General Monk, to theillustrious man of whose standard I believe I have taken measure, Isay: 'My lord, there is for you in the history of peoples and kings abrilliant place, an immortal, imperishable glory, if alone, withoutany other interest but the good of your country and the interests ofjustice, you become the supporter of your king. Many others have beenconquerors and glorious usurpers; you, my lord, you will be content withbeing the most virtuous, the most honest, and the most incorruptible ofmen: you will have held a crown in your hand, and instead of placing itupon your own brow, you will have deposited it upon the head of him forwhom it was made. Oh, my lord, act thus, and you will leave to posteritythe most enviable of names, in which no human creature can rival you. '"

Athos stopped. During the whole time that the noble gentleman wasspeaking, Monk had not given one sign of either approbation ordisapprobation; scarcely even, during this vehement appeal, had his eyesbeen animated with that fire which bespeaks intelligence. The Comtede la Fere looked at him sorrowfully, and on seeing that melancholycountenance, felt discouragement penetrate to his very heart. At lengthMonk appeared to recover, and broke the silence. 

"Monsieur, " said he, in a mild, calm tone, "in reply to you, I willmake use of your own words. To any other but yourself I would reply byexpulsion, imprisonment, or still worse, for, in fact, you tempt me andyou force me at the same time. But you are one of those men, monsieur, to whom it is impossible to refuse the attention and respect they merit;you are a brave gentleman, monsieur--I say so, and I am a judge. Youjust now spoke of a deposit which the late king transmitted through youto his son--are you, then, one of those Frenchmen who, as I have heard, endeavored to carry off Charles I. From Whitehall?"

"Yes, my lord, it was I who was beneath the scaffold during theexecution; I, who had not been able to redeem it, received upon my browthe blood of the martyred king. I received, at the same time, the lastword of Charles I. , it was to me he said, 'Remember!' and in saying, 'Remember!' he alluded to the money at your feet, my lord. "

"I have heard much of you, monsieur, " said Monk, "but I am happy tohave, in the first place, appreciated you by my own observations, andnot by my remembrances. I will give you, then, explanations that I havegiven to no other, and you will appreciate what a distinction I makebetween you and the persons who have hitherto been sent to me. "

Athos bowed, and prepared to absorb greedily the words which fell, oneby one, from the mouth of Monk, --those words rare and precious as thedew in the desert. 

"You spoke to me, " said Monk, "of Charles II. ; but pray, monsieur, ofwhat consequence to me is that phantom of a king? I have grown old in awar and in a policy which are nowadays so closely linked together, that every man of the sword must fight in virtue of his rights or hisambition with a personal interest, and not blindly behind an officer, asin ordinary wars. For myself, I perhaps desire nothing, but I fear much. In the war of to-day rests the liberty of England, and, perhaps, that ofevery Englishman. How can you expect that I, free in the position Ihave made for myself, should go willingly and hold out my hands to theshackles of a stranger? That is all Charles is to me. He has foughtbattles here which he has lost, he is therefore a bad captain; he hassucceeded in no negotiation, he is therefore a bad diplomatist; he hasparaded his wants and his miseries in all the courts of Europe, he hastherefore a weak and pusillanimous heart. Nothing noble, nothing great, nothing strong has hitherto emanated from that genius which aspires togovern one of the greatest kingdoms of the earth. I know this Charles, then, under none but bad aspects, and you would wish me, a man of goodsense, to go and make myself gratuitously the slave of a creature whois inferior to me in military capacity, in politics, and in dignity! No, monsieur. When some great and noble action shall have taught me to valueCharles, I shall perhaps recognize his rights to a throne from whichwe have cast the father because he wanted the virtues which his son hashitherto lacked, but, in fact of rights, I only recognize my own; therevolution made me a general, my sword will make me protector, if I wishit. Let Charles show himself, let him present himself, let him enter thecompetition open to genius, and, above all, let him remember that heis of a race from whom more will be expected than from any other. Therefore, monsieur, say no more about him. I neither refuse nor accept:I reserve myself--I wait. "

Athos knew Monk to be too well informed of all concerning Charles toventure to urge the discussion further; it was neither the time nor theplace. "My lord, " then said he, "I have nothing to do but to thank you. "

"And why, monsieur? Because you have formed a correct opinion of me, or because I have acted according to your judgment? Is that, in truth, worthy of thanks? This gold which you are about to carry to Charleswill serve me as a test for him, by seeing the use he will make of it. Ishall have an opinion which now I have not. "

"And yet does not your honor fear to compromise yourself by allowingsuch a sum to be carried away for the service of your enemy?"

"My enemy, say you? Eh, monsieur, I have no enemies. I am in the serviceof the parliament, which orders me to fight General Lambert and CharlesStuart--its enemies, and not mine. I fight them. If the parliament, onthe contrary, ordered me to unfurl my standards on the port of London, and to assemble my soldiers on the banks to receive Charles II. ----"

"You would obey?" cried Athos, joyfully. 

"Pardon me, " said Monk, smiling, "I was going--I, a gray-headed man--intruth, how could I forget myself? was going to speak like a foolishyoung man. "

"Then you would not obey?" said Athos. 

"I do not say that either, monsieur. The welfare of my country beforeeverything. God, who has given me the power, has, no doubt, willed thatI should have that power for the good of all, and He has given me, at the same time, discernment. If the parliament were to order such athing, I should reflect. "

The brow of Athos became clouded. "Then I may positively say that yourhonor is not inclined to favor King Charles II. ?"

"You continue to question me, monsieur le comte; allow me to do so inturn, if you please. "

"Do, monsieur; and may God inspire you with the idea of replying to meas frankly as I shall reply to you. "

"When you shall have taken this money back to your prince, what advicewill you give him?"

Athos fixed upon Monk a proud and resolute look. 

"My lord, " said he, "with this million, which others would perhapsemploy in negotiating, I would advise the king to raise two regiments, to enter Scotland, which you have just pacified: to give to the peoplethe franchises which the revolution promised them, and in which it hasnot, in all cases, kept its word. I should advise him to command inperson this little army, which would, believe me, increase, and to die, standard in hand, and sword in its sheath, saying, 'Englishmen! I am thethird king of my race you have killed; beware of the justice of God!'"

Monk hung down his head, and mused for an instant. "If he succeeded, "said he, "which is very improbable, but not impossible--for everythingis possible in this world--what would you advise him to do?"

"To think that by the will of God he lost his crown but by the good willof men he recovered it. "

An ironical smile passed over the lips of Monk. 

"Unfortunately, monsieur, " said he, "kings do not know how to followgood advice. "

"Ah, my lord, Charles II. Is not a king, " replied Athos, smiling in histurn, but with a very different expression from Monk. 

"Let us terminate this, monsieur le comte, --that is your desire, is itnot?"

Athos bowed. 

"I shall give orders to have these two casks transported whither youplease. Where are you lodging, monsieur?"

"In a little hamlet at the mouth of the river, your honor. "

"Oh, I know the hamlet; it consists of five or six houses, does it not?"

"Exactly. Well, I inhabit the first, --two net-makers occupy it with me;it is their bark which brought me ashore. "

"But your own vessel, monsieur?"

"My vessel is at anchor, a quarter of a mile at sea, and waits for me. "

"You do not think, however, of setting out immediately?"

"My lord, I shall try once more to convince your honor. "

"You will not succeed, " replied Monk; "but it is of consequence that youshould depart from Newcastle without leaving of your passage the leastsuspicion that might prove injurious to me or you. To-morrow my officersthink Lambert will attack me. I, on the contrary, am convinced that hewill not stir; it is in my opinion impossible. Lambert leads an armydevoid of homogeneous principles, and there is no possible army withsuch elements. I have taught my soldiers to consider my authoritysubordinate to another, therefore after me, round me, and beneath methey still look for something. It would result that if I were dead, whatever might happen, my army would not be demoralized all at once;it results, that if I choose to absent myself, for instance, as it doesplease me to do sometimes, there would not be in the camp the shadowof uneasiness or disorder. I am the magnet--the sympathetic and naturalstrength of the English. All those scattered irons that will be sentagainst me I shall attract to myself. Lambert, at this moment, commandseighteen thousand deserters, but I have never mentioned that to myofficers, you may easily suppose. Nothing is more useful to an army thanthe expectation of a coming battle; everybody is awake--everybody is onguard. I tell you this that you may live in perfect security. Do notbe in a hurry, then, to cross the seas; within a week there will besomething fresh, either a battle or an accomodation. Then, as you havejudged me to be a honorable man, and confided your secret to me, I haveto thank you for this confidence, and I shall come and pay you avisit or send for you. Do not go before I send you word. I repeat therequest. "

"I promise you, general, " cried Athos, with a joy so great, that inspite of all his circumspection, he could not prevent its sparkling inhis eyes. 

Monk surprised this flash, and immediately extinguished it by one ofthose silent smiles which always caused his interlocutors to know theyhad made no inroad on his mind. 

"Then, my lord, it is a week that you desire me to wait?"

"A week? yes, monsieur. "

"And during these days what shall I do?"

"If there should be a battle, keep at a distance from it, I beseech you. I know the French delight in such amusements, --you might take a fancy tosee how we fight, and you might receive some chance shot. Our Scotchmenare very bad marksmen, and I do not wish that a worthy gentleman likeyou should return to France wounded. Nor should I like to be obligedmyself, to send to your prince his million left here by you, for then itwould be said, and with some reason, that I paid the Pretender to enablehim to make war against the parliament. Go, then, monsieur, and let itbe done as has been agreed upon. "

"Ah, my lord, " said Athos, "what joy it would give me to be the firstthat penetrated to the noble heart which beats beneath that cloak!"

"You think, then, that I have secrets, " said Monk, without changing thehalf cheerful expression of his countenance. "Why, monsieur, whatsecret can you expect to find in the hollow head of a soldier? But it isgetting late, and our torch is almost out; let us call our man. "

"Hola!" cried Monk in French, approaching the stairs; "hola! fisherman!"

The fisherman, benumbed by the cold night air, replied in a hoarsevoice, asking what they wanted of him. 

"Go to the post, " said Monk, "and order a sergeant, in the name ofGeneral Monk, to come here immediately. "

This was a commission easily performed; for the sergeant, uneasy at thegeneral's being in that desolate abbey, had drawn nearer by degrees, and was not much further off than the fisherman. The general's order wastherefore heard by him, and he hastened to obey it. 

"Get a horse and two men, " said Monk. 

"A horse and two men?" repeated the sergeant. 

"Yes, " replied Monk. "Have you any means of getting a horse with apack-saddle or two paniers?"

"No doubt, at a hundred paces off, in the Scotch camp. "

"Very well. "

"What shall I do with the horse, general?"

"Look here. "

The sergeant descended the three steps which separated him from Monk, and came into the vault. 

"You see, " said Monk, "that gentleman yonder?"

"Yes, general. "

"And you see these two casks?"

"Perfectly. "

"They are two casks, one containing powder, and the other balls; I wishthese casks to be transported to the little hamlet at the mouth of theriver, and which I intend to occupy to-morrow with two hundred muskets. You understand that the commission is a secret one, for it is a movementthat may decide the fate of the battle. "

"Oh, general!" murmured the sergeant. 

"Mind, then! Let these casks be fastened on to the horse, and let thembe escorted by two men and you to the residence of this gentleman, whois my friend. But take care that nobody knows it. "

"I would go by the marsh if I knew the road, " said the sergeant. 

"I know one myself, " said Athos; "it is not wide, but it is solid, having been made upon piles; and with care we shall get over safelyenough. "

"Do everything this gentleman shall order you to do. "

"Oh! oh! the casks are heavy, " said the sergeant, trying to lift one. 

"They weigh four hundred pounds each, if they contain what they ought tocontain, do they not, monsieur?"

"Thereabouts, " said Athos. 

The sergeant went in search of the two men and the horse. Monk, leftalone with Athos, affected to speak to him on nothing but indifferentsubjects while examining the vault in a cursory manner. Then, hearingthe horse's steps, --

"I leave you with your men, monsieur, " said he, "and return to the camp. You are perfectly safe. "

"I shall see you again, then, my lord?" asked Athos. 

"That is agreed upon, monsieur, and with much pleasure. "

Monk held out his hand to Athos. 

"Ah! my lord, if you would!" murmured Athos. 

"Hush! monsieur, it is agreed that we shall speak no more of that. " Andbowing to Athos, he went up the stairs, meeting about half-way his men, who were coming down. He had not gone twenty paces, when a faint butprolonged whistle was heard at a distance. Monk listened, but seeingnothing and hearing nothing, he continued his route, Then he rememberedthe fisherman, and looked about for him; but the fisherman haddisappeared. If he had, however, looked with more attention, he mighthave seen that man, bent double, gliding like a serpent along the stonesand losing himself in the mist that floated over the surface of themarsh. He might have equally seen, had he attempted to pierce that mist, a spectacle that might have attracted his attention; and that was therigging of the vessel, which had changed place, and was now nearer theshore. But Monk saw nothing; and thinking he had nothing to fear, heentered the deserted causeway which led to his camp. It was then thatthe disappearance of the fisherman appeared strange, and that a realsuspicion began to take possession of his mind. He had just placed atthe orders of Athos the only post that could protect him. He had amile of causeway to traverse before he could regain his camp. The fogincreased with such intensity that he could scarcely distinguish objectsat ten paces' distance. Monk then thought he heard the sound of an oarover the marsh on the right. "Who goes there?" said he. 

But nobody answered; then he cocked his pistol, took his sword in hishand, and quickened his pace without, however, being willing to callanybody. Such a summons, for which there was no absolute necessity, appeared unworthy of him. 

CHAPTER 27. The Next Day

It was seven o'clock in the morning, the first rays of day lightened thepools of the marsh, in which the sun was reflected like a red ball, whenAthos, awaking and opening the window of his bed-chamber, which lookedout upon the banks of the river, perceived, at fifteen paces' distancefrom him, the sergeant and the men who had accompanied him the eveningbefore, and who, after having deposited the casks at his house, hadreturned to the camp by the causeway on the right. 

Why had these men come back after having returned to the camp? That wasthe question which first presented itself to Athos. The sergeant, withhis head raised, appeared to be watching the moment when the gentlemanshould appear, to address him. Athos, surprised to see these men, whomhe had seen depart the night before, could not refrain from expressinghis astonishment to them. 

"There is nothing surprising in that, monsieur, " said the sergeant;"for yesterday the general commanded me to watch over your safety, and Ithought it right to obey that order. "

"Is the general at the camp?" asked Athos. 

"No doubt he is, monsieur; as when he left you he was going back. "

"Well, wait for me a moment; I am going thither to render an account ofthe fidelity with which you fulfilled your duty, and to get my sword, which I left upon the table in the tent. "

"That happens very well, " said the sergeant, "for we were about torequest you to do so. "

Athos fancied he could detect an air of equivocal bonhomie upon thecountenance of the sergeant; but the adventure of the vault might haveexcited the curiosity of the man, and it was not surprising that heallowed some of the feelings which agitated his mind to appear in hisface. Athos closed the doors carefully, confiding the keys to Grimaud, who had chosen his domicile beneath the shed itself, which led to thecellar where the casks had been deposited. The sergeant escorted theComte de la Fere to the camp. There a fresh guard awaited him, andrelieved the four men who had conducted Athos. 

This fresh guard was commanded by the aid-de-camp Digby, who, on theirway, fixed upon Athos looks so little encouraging, that the Frenchmanasked himself whence arose, with regard to him, this vigilance and thisseverity, when the evening before he had been left perfectly free. Henevertheless continued his way to the headquarters, keeping to himselfthe observations which men and things forced him to make. He found inthe general's tent, to which he had been introduced the evening before, three superior officers: these were Monk's lieutenant and two colonels. Athos perceived his sword; it was still on the table where he left it. Neither of the officers had seen Athos, consequently neither of themknew him. Monk's lieutenant asked, at the appearance of Athos, if thatwere the same gentleman with whom the General had left the tent. 

"Yes, your honor, " said the sergeant; "it is the same. "

"But, " said Athos haughtily, "I do not deny it, I think; and now, gentlemen, in turn, permit me to ask you to what purpose these questionsare asked, and particularly some explanation upon the tone in which youask them?"

"Monsieur, " said the lieutenant, "if we address these questions toyou, it is because we have a right to do so, and if we make them in aparticular tone, it is because that tone, believe me, agrees with thecircumstances. "

"Gentlemen, " said Athos, "you do not know who I am; but I must tell youI acknowledge no one here but General Monk as my equal. Where is he? Letme be conducted to him, and if he has any questions to put to me, I willanswer him and to his satisfaction, I hope. I repeat, gentlemen, whereis the general?"

"Eh! good God! you know better than we do where he is, " said thelieutenant. 

"I?"

"Yes, you. "

"Monsieur, " said Athos, "I do not understand you. "

"You will understand me--and, in the first place, do not speak so loud. "

Athos smiled disdainfully. 

"We don't ask you to smile, " said one of the colonels warmly; "werequire you to answer. "

"And I, gentlemen, declare to you that I will not reply until I am inthe presence of the general. "

"But, " replied the same colonel who had already spoken, "you know verywell that is impossible. "

"This is the second time I have received this strange reply to the wishI express, " said Athos. "Is the general absent?"

This question was made with such apparent good faith, and the gentlemanwore an air of such natural surprise, that the three officers exchangeda meaning look. The lieutenant, by a tacit convention with the othertwo, was spokesman. 

"Monsieur, the general left you last night on the borders of themonastery. "

"Yes, monsieur. "

"And you went----"

"It is not for me to answer you, but for those who have accompanied me. They were your soldiers, ask them. "

"But if we please to question you?"

"Then it will please me to reply, monsieur, that I do not recognize anyone here, that I know no one here but the general, and that it is to himalone I will reply. "

"So be it, monsieur; but as we are the masters, we constitute ourselvesa council of war, and when you are before judges you must reply. "

The countenance of Athos expressed nothing but astonishment and disdain, instead of the terror the officers expected to read in it at thisthreat. 

"Scotch or English judges upon me, a subject of the king of France;upon me, placed under the safeguard of British honor! You are mad, gentlemen!" said Athos, shrugging his shoulders. 

The officers looked at each other. "Then, monsieur, " said one of them, "do you pretend not to know where the general is?"

"To that, monsieur, I have already replied. "

"Yes, but you have already replied an incredible thing. "

"It is true, nevertheless, gentlemen. Men of my rank are not generallyliars. I am a gentleman, I have told you, and when I have at my side thesword which, by an excess of delicacy, I left last night upon the tablewhereon it still lies, believe me, no man says that to me which I amunwilling to hear. I am at this moment disarmed; if you pretend to be myjudges, try me; if you are but my executioners, kill me. "

"But, monsieur----" asked the lieutenant, in a more courteous voice, struck with the lofty coolness of Athos. 

"Sir, I came to speak confidentially with your general about affairs ofimportance. It was not an ordinary welcome that he gave me. The accountsyour soldiers can give you may convince you of that. If, then, thegeneral received me in that manner, he knew my titles to his esteem. Now, you do not suspect, I should think that I should reveal my secretsto you, and still less his. "

"But these casks, what do they contain?"

"Have you not put that question to your soldiers? What was their reply?"

"That they contained powder and ball. "

"From whom had they that information? They must have told you that. "

"From the general; but we are not dupes. "

"Beware, gentlemen, it is not to me you are now giving the lie, it is toyour leader. "

The officers again looked at each other. Athos continued: "Before yoursoldiers the general told me to wait a week, and at the expiration ofthat week he would give me the answer he had to make me. Have I fledaway? No, I wait. "

"He told you to wait a week!" cried the lieutenant. 

"He told me that so clearly, sir, that I have a sloop at the mouth ofthe river, which I could with ease have joined yesterday, and embarked. Now, if I have remained, it was only in compliance with the desire ofyour general, his honor having requested me not to depart without alast audience, which fixed at a week hence. I repeat to you, then, I amwaiting. "

The lieutenant turned towards the other officers, and said, in a lowvoice: "If this gentleman speaks truth, there may still be some hope. The general may be carrying out some negotiations so secret, that hethought it imprudent to inform even us. Then the time limited for hisabsence would be a week. " Then, turning towards Athos: "Monsieur, " saidhe, "your declaration is of the most serious importance; are you willingto repeat it under the seal of an oath?"

"Sir, " replied Athos, "I have always lived in a world where my simpleword was regarded as the most sacred of oaths. "

"This time, however, monsieur, the circumstance is more grave than anyyou may have been placed in. The safety of the whole army is at stake. Reflect, the general has disappeared, and our search for him has beenvain. Is this disappearance natural? Has a crime been committed? Are wenot bound to carry our investigations to extremity? Have we any right towait with patience? At this moment, everything, monsieur, depends uponthe words you are about to pronounce. "

"Thus questioned, gentlemen, I no longer hesitate, " said Athos. "Yes, I came hither to converse confidentially with General Monk, and askhim for an answer regarding certain interests; yes, the general being, doubtless, unable to pronounce before the expected battle, begged meto remain a week in the house I inhabit, promising me that in a week Ishould see him again. Yes, all this is true, and I swear it by the Godwho is the absolute master of my life and yours. " Athos pronounced thesewords with so much grandeur and solemnity, that the three officers werealmost convinced. Nevertheless, one of the colonels made a last attempt. 

"Monsieur, " said he, "although we may be now persuaded of the truth ofwhat you say, there is yet a strange mystery in all this. The general istoo prudent a man to have thus abandoned his army on the eve of a battlewithout having at least given notice of it to one of us. As for myself, I cannot believe but that some strange event has been the cause of thisdisappearance. Yesterday some foreign fishermen came to sell their fishhere; they were lodged yonder among the Scots; that is to say, on theroad the general took with this gentleman, to go to the abbey, andto return from it. It was one of those fishermen that accompanied thegeneral with a light. And this morning, bark and fishermen have alldisappeared, carried away by the night's tide. "

"For my part, " said the lieutenant, "I see nothing in that that is notquite natural, for these people were not prisoners. "

"No, but I repeat it was one of them who lighted the general and thisgentleman to the abbey, and Digby assures us that the general had strongsuspicions concerning those people. Now, who can say whether thesepeople were not connected with this gentleman; and that, the blowbeing struck, the gentleman, who is evidently brave, did not remain toreassure us by his presence, and to prevent our researches being made ina right direction?"

This speech made an impression upon the other two officers. 

"Sir, " said Athos, "permit me to tell you, that your reasoning, thoughspecious in appearance, nevertheless wants consistency, as regards me. I have remained, you say, to divert suspicion. Well! on the contrary, suspicions arise in me as well as in you; and I say, it is impossible, gentlemen, that the general, on the eve of a battle, should leave hisarmy without saying anything to at least one of his officers. Yes, thereis some strange event connected with this; instead of being idleand waiting, you must display all the activity and all the vigilancepossible. I am your prisoner, gentlemen, upon parole or otherwise. Myhonor is concerned in ascertaining what has become of General Monk, andto such a point, that if you were to say to me, 'Depart!' I should reply'No, I will remain!' And if you were to ask my opinion, I should add:'Yes, the general is the victim of some conspiracy, for, if he hadintended to leave the camp he would have told me so. ' Seek then, searchthe land, search the sea; the general has not gone of his own goodwill. "

The lieutenant made a sign to the other two officers. 

"No, monsieur, " said he, "no; in your turn you go too far. The generalhas nothing to suffer from these events, and, no doubt, has directedthem. What Monk is now doing he has often done before. We are wrong inalarming ourselves; his absence will, doubtless, be of short duration;therefore, let us beware, lest by a pusillanimity which the generalwould consider a crime, of making his absence public, and by thatmeans demoralize the army. The general gives a striking proof of hisconfidence in us; let us show ourselves worthy of it. Gentlemen, let themost profound silence cover all this with an impenetrable veil; wewill detain this gentleman, not from mistrust of him with regard tothe crime, but to assure more effectively the secret of the general'sabsence by keeping among ourselves; therefore, until fresh orders, thegentleman will remain at headquarters. "

"Gentlemen, " said Athos, "you forget that last night the generalconfided to me a deposit over which I am bound to watch. Give mewhatever guard you like, chain me if you like, but leave me the house Iinhabit for my prison. The general, on his return, would reproach you, Iswear on the honor of a gentleman, for having displeased him in this. "

"So be it, monsieur, " said the lieutenant; "return to your abode. "

Then they placed over Athos a guard of fifty men, who surrounded hishouse, without losing sight of him for a minute. 

The secret remained secure, but hours, days passed away without thegeneral's returning, or without anything being heard of him. 

CHAPTER 28. Smuggling

Two days after the events we have just related, and while General Monkwas expected every minute in the camp to which he did not return, alittle Dutch felucca, manned by eleven men, cast anchor upon the coastof Scheveningen, nearly within cannon-shot of the port. It was night, the darkness was great, the tide rose in the darkness; it was a capitaltime to land passengers and merchandise. 

The road of Scheveningen forms a vast crescent; it is not very deepand not very safe; therefore, nothing is seen stationed there but largeFlemish hoys, or some of those Dutch barks which fishermen draw up onthe sand on rollers, as the ancients did, according to Virgil. When thetide is rising, and advancing on land, it is not prudent to bring thevessels too close inshore, for, if the wind is fresh, the prows areburied in the sand; and the sand of that coast is spongy; it receiveseasily, but does not yield so well. It was on this account, no doubt, that a boat was detached from the bark as soon as the latter had castanchor, and came with eight sailors, amidst whom was to be seen anobject of an oblong form, a sort of large pannier or bale. 

The shore was deserted; the few fishermen inhabiting the down were goneto bed. The only sentinel that guarded the coast (a coast very badlyguarded, seeing that a landing from large ships was impossible), withouthaving been able to follow the example of the fishermen, who were goneto bed, imitated them so far, that he slept at the back of his watch-boxas soundly as they slept in their beds. The only noise to be heard, then, was the whistling of the night breeze among the bushes andthe brambles of the downs. But the people who were approaching weredoubtless mistrustful people, for this real silence and apparentsolitude did not satisfy them. Their boat, therefore, scarcely asvisible as a dark speck upon the ocean, glided along noiselessly, avoiding the use of their oars for fear of being heard, and gained thenearest land. 

Scarcely had it touched the ground when a single man jumped out of theboat, after having given a brief order, in a manner which denoted thehabit of commanding. In consequence of this order, several musketsimmediately glittered in the feeble light reflected from that mirror ofthe heavens, the sea; and the oblong bale of which we spoke, containingno doubt some contraband object, was transported to land, with infiniteprecautions. Immediately after that, the man who had landed first setoff at a rapid pace diagonally towards the village of Scheveningen, directing his course to the nearest point of the wood. When there, hesought for that house already described as the temporary residence--anda very humble residence--of him who was styled by courtesy king ofEngland. 

All were asleep there, as everywhere else, only a large dog, of the raceof those which the fishermen of Scheveningen harness to little cartsto carry fish to the Hague, began to bark formidably as soon as thestranger's steps were audible beneath the windows. But the watchfulness, instead of alarming the newly-landed man, appeared, on the contrary, togive him great joy, for his voice might perhaps have proved insufficientto rouse the people of the house, whilst, with an auxiliary of thatsort, his voice became almost useless. The stranger waited, then, till these reiterated and sonorous barkings should, according to allprobability, have produced their effect, and then he ventured a summons. On hearing his voice, the dog began to roar with such violence thatanother voice was soon heard from the interior, quieting the dog. Withthat the dog was quieted. 

"What do you want?" asked that voice, at the same time weak, broken, andcivil. 

"I want his majesty King Charles II. , king of England, " said thestranger. 

"What do you want with him?"

"I want to speak to him. "

"Who are you?"

"Ah! Mordioux! you ask too much; I don't like talking through doors. "

"Only tell me your name. "

"I don't like to declare my name in the open air, either; besides, youmay be sure I shall not eat your dog, and I hope to God he will be asreserved with respect to me. "

"You bring news, perhaps, monsieur, do you not?" replied the voice, patient and querulous as that of an old man. 

"I will answer for it, I bring you news you little expect. Open thedoor, then, if you please, hein!"

"Monsieur, " persisted the old man, "do you believe, upon your soul andconscience, that your news is worth waking the king?"

"For God's sake, my dear monsieur, draw your bolts; you will not besorry, I swear, for the trouble it will give you. I am worth my weightin gold, parole d'honneur!"

"Monsieur, I cannot open the door till you have told me your name. "

"Must I, then?"

"It is by the order of my master, monsieur. "

"Well, my name is--but, I warn you, my name will tell you absolutelynothing. "

"Never mind, tell it, notwithstanding. "

"Well, I am the Chevalier d'Artagnan. "

The voice uttered an exclamation. 

"Oh! good heavens!" said a voice on the other side of the door. "Monsieur d'Artagnan. What happiness! I could not help thinking I knewthat voice. "

"Humph!" said D'Artagnan. "My voice is known here! That's flattering. "

"Oh! yes, we know it, " said the old man, drawing the bolts; "and here isthe proof. " And at these words he let in D'Artagnan, who, by thelight of the lantern he carried in his hand, recognized his obstinateinterlocutor. 

"Ah! Mordioux!" cried he: "why, it is Parry! I ought to have knownthat. "

"Parry, yes, my dear Monsieur d'Artagnan, it is I. What joy to see youonce again!"

"You are right there, what joy!" said D'Artagnan, pressing the old man'shand. "There, now you'll go and inform the king, will you not?"

"But the king is asleep, my dear monsieur. "

"Mordioux! then wake him. He won't scold you for having disturbed him, Iwill promise you. "

"You come on the part of the count, do you not?"

"The Comte de la Fere?"

"From Athos?"

"Ma foi! no; I come on my own part. Come, Parry, quick! The king--I wantthe king. "

Parry did not think it his duty to resist any longer; he knew D'Artagnanof old; he knew that, although a Gascon, his words never promisedmore than they could stand to. He crossed a court and a little garden, appeased the dog, that seemed most anxious to taste of the musketeer'sflesh, and went to knock at the window of a chamber forming theground-floor of a little pavilion. Immediately a little dog inhabitingthat chamber replied to the great dog inhabiting the court. 

"Poor king!" said D'Artagnan to himself, "these are his body-guards. Itis true he is not the worse guarded on that account. "

"What is wanted with me?" asked the king, from the back of the chamber. 

"Sire, it is M. Le Chevalier d'Artagnan, who brings you some news. "

A noise was immediately heard in the chamber, a door was opened, anda flood of light inundated the corridor and the garden. The king wasworking by the light of a lamp. Papers were lying about upon his desk, and he had commenced the foul copy of a letter which showed, by thenumerous erasures, the trouble he had had in writing it. 

"Come in, monsieur le chevalier, " said he, turning around. Thenperceiving the fisherman, "What do you mean, Parry? Where is M. LeChevalier d'Artagnan?" asked Charles. 

"He is before you, sire, " said M. D'Artagnan. 

"What, in that costume?"

"Yes; look at me, sire; do you not remember having seen me at Blois, inthe ante-chambers of King Louis XIV. ?"

"Yes, monsieur, and I remember I was much pleased with you. "

D'Artagnan bowed. "It was my duty to behave as I did, the moment I knewthat I had the honor of being near your majesty. "

"You bring me news, do you say?"

"Yes, sire. "

"From the king of France?"

"Ma foi! no, sire, " replied D'Artagnan. "Your majesty must have seenyonder that the king of France is only occupied with his own majesty. "

Charles raised his eyes towards heaven. 

"No, sire, no, " continued D'Artagnan. "I bring news entirely composedof personal facts. Nevertheless, I hope your majesty will listen to thefacts and news with some favor. "

"Speak, monsieur. "

"If I am not mistaken, sire, your majesty spoke a great deal, at Blois, of the embarrassed state in which the affairs of England are. "

Charles colored. "Monsieur, " said he, "it was to the king of France Irelated----"

"Oh! your majesty is mistaken, " said the musketeer, coolly; "I know howto speak to kings in misfortune. It is only when they are in misfortunethat they speak to me; once fortunate, they look upon me no more. Ihave, then, for your majesty, not only the greatest respect, but, stillmore, the most absolute devotion; and that, believe me, with me, sire, means something. Now, hearing your majesty complain of fate, I foundthat you were noble and generous, and bore misfortune well. "

"In truth, " said Charles, much astonished, "I do not know which I oughtto prefer, your freedoms or your respects. "

"You will choose presently, sire, " said D'Artagnan. "Then yourmajesty complained to your brother, Louis XIV. , of the difficulty youexperienced in returning to England and regaining your throne for wantof men and money. "

Charles allowed a movement of impatience to escape him. 

"And the principal object your majesty found in your way, " continuedD'Artagnan, "was a certain general commanding the armies of theparliament, and who was playing yonder the part of another Cromwell. Didnot your majesty say so?"

"Yes, but I repeat to you, monsieur, those words were for the king'sears alone. "

"And you will see, sire, that it is very fortunate that they fell intothose of his lieutenant of musketeers. That man so troublesome toyour majesty was one General Monk, I believe; did I not hear his namecorrectly, sire?"

"Yes, monsieur, but once more, to what purpose are all these questions?"

"Oh! I know very well, sire, that etiquette will not allow kings tobe questioned. I hope, however, presently you will pardon my want ofetiquette. Your majesty added that, notwithstanding, if you could seehim, confer with him, and meet him face to face, you would triumph, either by force or persuasion, over that obstacle--the only seriousone, the only insurmountable one, the only real one you met with on yourroad. "

"All that is true, monsieur: my destiny, my future, my obscurity, or myglory depend upon that man; but what do you draw from that?"

"One thing alone, that if this General Monk is troublesome to the pointyour majesty describes, it would be expedient to get rid of him or tomake an ally of him. "

"Monsieur, a king who has neither army nor money, as you have heard myconversation with my brother Louis, has no means of acting against a manlike Monk. "

"Yes, sire, that was your opinion, I know very well; but, fortunately, for you, it was not mine. "

"What do you mean by that?"

"That, without an army and without a million, I have done--I, myself--what your majesty thought could alone be done with an army and amillion. "

"How! What do you say? What have you done?"

"What have I done? Eh! well, sire, I went yonder to take this man who isso troublesome to your majesty. "

"In England?"

"Exactly, sire. "

"You went to take Monk in England?"

"Should I by chance have done wrong, sire?"

"In truth, you are mad, monsieur!"

"Not the least in the world, sire. "

"You have taken Monk?"

"Yes, sire. "

"Where?"

"In the midst of his camp. "

The king trembled with impatience. 

"And having taken him on the causeway of Newcastle, I bring him to yourmajesty, " said D'Artagnan, simply. 

"You bring him to me!" cried the king, almost indignant at what heconsidered a mystification. 

"Yes, sire, " replied D'Artagnan, the same tone, "I bring him to you;he is down below yonder, in a large chest pierced with holes, so as toallow him to breathe. "

"Good God!"

"Oh! don't be uneasy, sire, we have taken the greatest possible careof him. He comes in good state, and in perfect condition. Would yourmajesty please to see him, to talk with him, or to have him thrown intothe sea?"

"Oh, heavens!" repeated Charles, "oh, heavens! do you speak the truth, monsieur? Are you not insulting me with some unworthy joke? You haveaccomplished this unheard-of act of audacity and genius--impossible!"

"Will your majesty permit me to open the window?" said D'Artagnan, opening it. 

The king had not time to reply, yes on no. D'Artagnan gave a shrill andprolonged whistle, which he repeated three times through the silence ofthe night. 

"There!" said he, "he will be brought to your majesty. "

CHAPTER 29. In which D'Artagnan begins to fear he has placed his Moneyand that of Planchet in the Sinking Fund

The king could not overcome his surprise, and looked sometimes at thesmiling face of the musketeer, and sometimes at the dark window whichopened into the night. But before he had fixed his ideas, eight ofD'Artagnan's men, for two had remained to take care of the bark, broughtto the house, where Parry received him, that object of an oblong form, which, for the moment inclosed the destinies of England. Before he leftCalais, D'Artagnan had had made in that city a sort of coffin, large anddeep enough for a man to turn in it at his ease. The bottom and sides, properly upholstered, formed a bed sufficiently soft to prevent therolling of the ship turning this kind of cage into a rat-trap. Thelittle grating, of which D'Artagnan had spoken to the king, like thevisor of a helmet, was placed opposite to the man's face. It was soconstructed that, at the least cry, a sudden pressure would stifle thatcry, and, if necessary, him who had uttered that cry. 

D'Artagnan was so well acquainted with his crew and his prisoner, thatduring the whole voyage he had been in dread of two things: either thatthe general would prefer death to this sort of imprisonment, and wouldsmother himself by endeavoring to speak, or that his guards would allowthemselves to be tempted by the offers of the prisoner, and put him, D'Artagnan, into the box instead of Monk. 

D'Artagnan, therefore, had passed the two days and the two nights of thevoyage close to the coffin, alone with the general, offering him wineand food, which the latter had refused, and constantly endeavoringto reassure him upon the destiny which awaited him at the end of thissingular captivity. Two pistols on the table and his naked sword madeD'Artagnan easy with regard to indiscretions from without. 

When once at Scheveningen he had felt completely reassured. His mengreatly dreaded any conflict with the lords of the soil. He had, besides, interested in his cause him who had morally served him aslieutenant, and whom we have seen reply to the name of Menneville. Thelatter, not being a vulgar spirit, had more to risk than the others, because he had more conscience. He believed in a future in the serviceof D'Artagnan, and consequently would have allowed himself to be cut topieces, rather than violate the order given by his leader. Thus it wasthat, once landed, it was to him D'Artagnan had confided the care ofthe chest and the general's breathing. It was he, too, he had orderedto have the chest brought by the seven men as soon as he should hear thetriple whistle. We have seen that the lieutenant obeyed. The cofferonce in the house, D'Artagnan dismissed his men with a gracious smile, saying, "Messieurs, you have rendered a great service to KingCharles II. , who in less than six weeks will be king of England. Yourgratification will then be doubled. Return to the boat and wait for me. "Upon which they departed with such shouts of joy as terrified even thedog himself. 

D'Artagnan had caused the coffer to be brought as far as the king'sante-chamber. He then, with great care, closed the door of thisante-chamber, after which he opened the coffer, and said to the general:

"General, I have a thousand excuses to make to you; my manner of actinghas not been worthy of such a man as you, I know very well; but I wishedyou to take me for the captain of a bark. And then England is a veryinconvenient country for transports. I hope, therefore, you will takeall that into consideration. But now, general, you are at liberty to getup and walk. " This said, he cut the bonds which fastened the arms andhands of the general. The latter got up, and then sat down with thecountenance of a man who expects death. D'Artagnan opened the doorof Charles's study, and said, "Sire, here is your enemy, M. Monk; Ipromised myself to perform this service for your majesty. It is done;now order as you please. M. Monk, " added he, turning towards theprisoner, "you are in the presence of his majesty Charles II. , sovereignlord of Great Britain. "

Monk raised towards the prince his coldly stoical look, and replied: "Iknow no king of Great Britain; I recognize even here no one worthy ofbearing the name of gentleman: for it is in the name of King CharlesII. That an emissary, whom I took for an honest man, came and laid aninfamous snare for me. I have fallen into that snare; so much the worsefor me. Now, you the tempter, " said he to the king, "you the executor, "said he to D'Artagnan; "remember what I am about to say to you; you havemy body, you may kill it, and I advise you to do so, for you shall neverhave my mind or my will. And now, ask me not a single word, as from thismoment I will not open my mouth even to cry out. I have said. "

And he pronounced these words with the savage, invincible resolutionof the most mortified Puritan. D'Artagnan looked at his prisoner likea man, who knows the value of every word, and who fixes that valueaccording to the accent with which it has been pronounced. 

"The fact is, " said he, in a whisper to the king, "the general is anobstinate man; he would not take a mouthful of bread, nor swallow a dropof wine, during the two days of our voyage. But as from this moment itis your majesty who must decide his fate, I wash my hands of him. "

Monk, erect, pale, and resigned, waited with his eyes fixed and his armsfolded. D'Artagnan turned towards him. "You will please to understandperfectly, " said he, "that your speech, otherwise very fine, does notsuit anybody, not even yourself. His majesty wished to speak to you, yourefused him an interview; why, now that you are face to face, thatyou are here by a force independent of your will, why do you confineyourself to rigors which I consider useless and absurd? Speak! what thedevil! speak, if only to say 'No. '"

Monk did not unclose his lips, Monk did not turn his eyes; Monk strokedhis mustache with a thoughtful air, which announced that matters weregoing on badly. 

During all this time Charles II. Had fallen into a profound reverie. Forthe first time he found himself face to face with Monk; with the man hehad so much desired to see; and, with that peculiar glance which God hasgiven to eagles and kings, he had fathomed the abyss of his heart. Hebeheld Monk, then, resolved positively to die rather than speak, whichwas not to be wondered at in so considerable a man, the wound in whosemind must at the moment have been cruel. Charles II. Formed, on theinstant, one of those resolutions upon which an ordinary man risks hislife, a general his fortune, and a king his kingdom. "Monsieur, " saidhe to Monk, "you are perfectly right upon certain points; I do not, therefore, ask you to answer me, but to listen to me. "

There was a moment's silence, during which the king looked at Monk, whoremained impassible. 

"You have made me just now a painful reproach, monsieur, " continued theking; "you said that one of my emissaries had been to Newcastle to laya snare for you, and that, parenthetically, cannot be understood by M. D'Artagnan, here, and to whom, before everything, I owe sincere thanksfor his generous, his heroic devotion. "

D'Artagnan bowed with respect; Monk took no notice. 

"For M. D'Artagnan--and observe, M. Monk, I do not say this to excusemyself--for M. D'Artagnan, " continued the king, "went to England of hisfree will, without interest, without orders, without hope, like a truegentleman as he is, to render a service to an unfortunate king, and toadd to the illustrious actions of an existence, already so well filled, one glorious deed more. "

D'Artagnan colored a little, and coughed to keep his countenance. Monkdid not stir. 

"You do not believe what I tell you, M. Monk, " continued the king. "Ican understand that, --such proofs of devotion are so rare, that theirreality may well be put in doubt. "

"Monsieur would do wrong not to believe you, sire, " cried D'Artagnan:"for that which your majesty has said is the exact truth, and the truthso exact that it seems, in going to fetch the general, I have donesomething which sets everything wrong. In truth, if it be so, I am indespair. "

"Monsieur d'Artagnan, " said the king, pressing the hand of themusketeer, "you have obliged me as much as if you had promoted thesuccess of my cause, for you have revealed to me an unknown friend, towhom I shall ever be grateful, and whom I shall always love. " And theking pressed his hand cordially. "And, " continued he, bowing to Monk, "an enemy whom I shall henceforth esteem at his proper value. "

The eyes of the Puritan flashed, but only once, and his countenance, foran instant, illuminated by that flash, resumed its somber impassibility. 

"Then, Monsieur d'Artagnan, " continued Charles, "this is what was aboutto happen: M. Le Comte de la Fere, whom you know, I believe, has set outfor Newcastle. "

"What, Athos!" exclaimed D'Artagnan. 

"Yes, that was his nom de guerre, I believe. The Comte de la Fere hadthen set out for Newcastle, and was going, perhaps, to bring thegeneral to hold a conference with me or with those of my party, when youviolently, as it appears, interfered with the negotiation. "

"Mordioux!" replied D'Artagnan, "he entered the camp the very evening inwhich I succeeded in getting into it with my fishermen----"

An almost imperceptible frown on the brow of Monk told D'Artagnan thathe had surmised rightly. 

"Yes, yes, " muttered he; "I thought I knew his person; I even fancied Iknew his voice. Unlucky wretch that I am! Oh! sire, pardon me! I thoughtI had so successfully steered my bark. "

"There is nothing ill in it, sir, " said the king, "except that thegeneral accuses me of having laid a snare for him, which is not thecase. No, general, those are not the arms which I contemplated employingwith you as you will soon see. In the meanwhile, when I give you myword upon the honor of a gentleman, believe me, sir, believe me! Now, Monsieur d'Artagnan, a word with you, if you please. "

"I listen on my knees, sire. "

"You are truly at my service, are you not?"

"Your majesty has seen I am, too much so. "

"That is well; from a man like you one word suffices. In addition tothat word you bring actions. General, have the goodness to follow me. Come with us, M. D'Artagnan. "

D'Artagnan, considerably surprised, prepared to obey. Charles II. Wentout, Monk followed him, D'Artagnan followed Monk. Charles took the pathby which D'Artagnan had come to his abode; the fresh sea breezes sooncaressed the faces of the three nocturnal travelers, and, at fifty pacesfrom the little gate which Charles opened, they found themselves uponthe down in the face of the ocean, which, having ceased to rise, reposedupon the shore like a wearied monster. Charles II. Walked pensivelyalong, his head hanging down and his hand beneath his cloak. Monkfollowed him, with crossed arms and an uneasy look. D'Artagnan camelast, with his hand on the hilt of his sword. 

"Where is the boat in which you came, gentlemen?" said Charles to themusketeer. 

"Yonder, sire, I have seven men and an officer waiting me in that littlebark which is lighted by a fire. "

"Yes, I see; the boat is drawn upon the sand, but you certainly did notcome from Newcastle in that frail bark?"

"No, sire; I freighted a felucca, at my own expense, which is at anchorwithin cannon-shot of the downs. It was in that felucca we made thevoyage. "

"Sir, " said the king to Monk, "you are free. "

However firm of his will, Monk could not suppress an exclamation. Theking added an affirmative motion of his head, and continued: "Weshall waken a fisherman of the village, who will put his boat to seaimmediately, and will take you back to any place you may command him. M. D'Artagnan here will escort your honor. I place M. D'Artagnan under thesafeguard of your loyalty, M. Monk. "

Monk allowed a murmur of surprise to escape him, and D'Artagnan aprofound sigh. The king, without appearing to notice either, knockedagainst the deal trellis which inclosed the cabin of the principalfisherman inhabiting the down. 

"Hey! Keyser!" cried he, "awake!"

"Who calls me?" asked the fisherman. 

"I, Charles the king. "

"Ah, my lord!" cried Keyser, rising ready dressed from the sail in whichhe slept, as people sleep in a hammock. "What can I do to serve you?"

"Captain Keyser, " said Charles, "you must set sail immediately. Here isa traveler who wishes to freight your bark, and will pay you well; servehim well. " And the king drew back a few steps to allow Monk to speak tothe fisherman. 

"I wish to cross over into England, " said Monk, who spoke Dutch enoughto make himself understood. 

"This minute, " said the patron, "this very minute, if you wish it. "

"But will that be long?" said Monk. 

"Not half an hour, your honor. My eldest son is at this moment preparingthe boat, as we were going out fishing at three o'clock in the morning. "

"Well, is all arranged?" asked the king, drawing near. 

"All but the price, " said the fisherman; "yes, sire. "

"That is my affair, " said Charles, "the gentleman is my friend. "

Monk started and looked at Charles on hearing this word. 

"Very well, my lord, " replied Keyser. And at that moment they heardKeyser's eldest son, signaling from the shore with the blast of a bull'shorn. 

"Now, gentlemen, " said the king, "depart. "

"Sire, " said D'Artagnan, "will it please your majesty to grant me a fewminutes? I have engaged men, and I am going without them; I must givethem notice. "

"Whistle to them, " said Charles, smiling. 

D'Artagnan, accordingly, whistled, whilst the patron Keyser replied tohis son; and four men, led by Menneville, attended the first summons. 

"Here is some money in account, " said D'Artagnan, putting into theirhands a purse containing two thousand five hundred livres in gold. "Goand wait for me at Calais, you know where. " And D'Artagnan heaved aprofound sigh, as he let the purse fall into the hands of Menneville. 

"What, are you leaving us?" cried the men. 

"For a short time, " said D'Artagnan, "or for a long time, who knows? Butwith 2, 500 livres, and the 2, 500 you have already received, you are paidaccording to our agreement. We are quits, then, my friend. "

"But the boat?"

"Do not trouble yourself about that. "

"Our things are on board the felucca. "

"Go and seek them, and then set off immediately. "

"Yes, captain. "

D'Artagnan returned to Monk, saying, --"Monsieur, I await yourorders, for I understand we are to go together, unless my company bedisagreeable to you. "

"On the contrary, monsieur, " said Monk. 

"Come, gentlemen, on board, " cried Keyser's son. 

Charles bowed to the general with grace and dignity, saying, --"You willpardon me this unfortunate accident, and the violence to which youhave been subjected, when you are convinced that I was not the cause ofthem. "

Monk bowed profoundly without replying. On his side, Charles affectednot to say a word to D'Artagnan in private, but aloud, --"Once more, thanks, monsieur le chevalier, " said he, "thanks for your services. Theywill be repaid you by the Lord God, who, I hope, reserves trials andtroubles for me alone. "

Monk followed Keyser, and his son embarked with them. D'Artagnan cameafter, muttering to himself, --"Poor Planchet! poor Planchet! I am verymuch afraid we have made a bad speculation. "

CHAPTER 30. The Shares of Planchet and Company rise again to Par

During the passage, Monk only spoke to D'Artagnan in cases of urgentnecessity. Thus, when the Frenchman hesitated to come and take hismeals, poor meals, composed of salt fish, biscuit, and Hollands gin, Monk called him, saying, --"To table, monsieur, to table!"

This was all. D'Artagnan, from being himself on all great occasionsextremely concise, did not draw from the general's conciseness afavorable augury of the result of his mission. Now, as D'Artagnan hadplenty of time for reflection, he battered his brains during this timein endeavoring to find out how Athos had seen King Charles, how he hadconspired his departure with him, and lastly, how he had entered Monk'scamp; and the poor lieutenant of musketeers plucked a hair from hismustache every time he reflected that the horseman who accompanied Monkon the night of the famous abduction must have been Athos. 

At length, after a passage of two nights and two days, the patron Keysertouched at the point where Monk, who had given all the orders during thevoyage, had commanded they should land. It was exactly at the mouth ofthe little river, near which Athos had chosen his abode. 

Daylight was waning, a splendid sun, like a red steel buckler, wasplunging the lower extremity of its disc beneath the blue line of thesea. The felucca was making fair way up the river, tolerably widein that part, but Monk, in his impatience, desired to be landed, andKeyser's boat set him and D'Artagnan upon the muddy bank, amidst thereeds. D'Artagnan, resigned to obedience, followed Monk exactly as achained bear follows his master; but the position humiliated him nota little, and he grumbled to himself that the service of kings was abitter one, and that the best of them was good for nothing. Monk walkedwith long and hasty strides; it might be thought that he did not yetfeel certain of having reached English land. They had already begun toperceive distinctly a few of the cottages of the sailors and fishermenspread over the little quay of this humble port, when, all at once, D'Artagnan cried out, --"God pardon me, there is a house on fire!"

Monk raised his eyes, and perceived there was, in fact, a house whichthe flames were beginning to devour. It had begun at a little shedbelonging to the house, the roof of which had caught. The fresh eveningbreeze agitated the fire. The two travelers quickened their steps, hearing loud cries, and seeing, as they drew nearer, soldiers with theirglittering arms pointing towards the house on fire. It was doubtlessthis menacing occupation which had made them neglect to signal thefelucca. Monk stopped short for an instant, and, for the first time, formulated his thoughts into words. "Eh! but, " said he, "perhaps theyare not my soldiers, but Lambert's. "

These words contained at once a sorrow, an apprehension, and a reproachperfectly intelligible to D'Artagnan. In fact, during the general'sabsence, Lambert might have given battle, conquered, and dispersed theparliament's army, and taken with his own the place of Monk's army, deprived of its strongest support. At this doubt, which passed from themind of Monk to his own, D'Artagnan reasoned in this manner: "One of twothings is going to happen; either Monk has spoken correctly, and thereare no longer any but Lambertists in the country--that is to say, enemies, who would receive me wonderfully well, since it is to me theyowe their victory; or nothing is changed, and Monk, transported with joyat finding his camp still in the same place, will not prove too severein his settlement with me. " Whilst thinking thus, the two travelersadvanced, and began to mingle with a little knot of sailors, who lookedon with sorrow at the burning house, but did not dare to say anything onaccount of the threats of the soldiers. 

Monk addressed one of these sailors:--"What is going on here?" asked he. 

"Sir, " replied the man, not recognizing Monk as an officer, underthe thick cloak which enveloped him, "that house was inhabited by aforeigner, and this foreigner became suspected by the soldiers. Theywanted to get into his house under pretense of taking him to the camp;but he, without being frightened by their number, threatened death tothe first who should cross the threshold of his door, and as there wasone who did venture, the Frenchman stretched him on the earth with apistol-shot. "

"Ah! he is a Frenchman, is he?" said D'Artagnan, rubbing his hands. "Good!"

"How good?" replied the fisherman. 

"No, I don't mean that. --What then--my tongue slipped. "

"What then, sir--why, the other men became as enraged as so many lions:they fired more than a hundred shots at the house; but the Frenchman wassheltered by the wall, and every time they tried to enter by the doorthey met with a shot from his lackey, whose aim is deadly, d'ye see?Every time they threatened the window, they met with a pistol-shot fromthe master. Look and count--there are seven men down. 

"Ah! my brave countryman, " cried D'Artagnan, "wait a little, wait alittle. I will be with you, and we will settle with this rabble. "

"One instant, sir, " said Monk, "wait. "

"Long?"

"No; only the time to ask a question. " Then, turning towards thesailor, "My friend, " asked he with an emotion which, in spite of all hisself-command, he could not conceal, "whose soldiers are these, pray tellme?"

"Whose should they be but that madman, Monk's?"

"There has been no battle, then?"

"A battle, ah, yes! for what purpose? Lambert's army is melting awaylike snow in April. All come to Monk, officers and soldiers. In a weekLambert won't have fifty men left. "

The fisherman was interrupted by a fresh discharge directed against thehouse, and by another pistol-shot which replied to the discharge andstruck down the most daring of the aggressors. The rage of the soldierswas at its height. The fire still continued to increase, and a crestof flame and smoke whirled and spread over the roof of the house. D'Artagnan could no longer contain himself. "Mordioux!" said he to Monk, glancing at him sideways: "you are a general, and allow your men to burnhouses and assassinate people, while you look on and warm your hands atthe blaze of the conflagration? Mordioux! you are not a man. "

"Patience, sir, patience!" said Monk, smiling. 

"Patience! yes, until that brave gentleman is roasted--is that what youmean?" And D'Artagnan rushed forward. 

"Remain where you are, sir, " said Monk, in a tone of command. And headvanced towards the house, just as an officer had approached it, sayingto the besieged: "The house is burning, you will be roasted within anhour! There is still time--come, tell us what you know of General Monk, and we will spare your life. Reply, or by Saint Patrick----"

The besieged made no answer; he was no doubt reloading his pistol. 

"A reinforcement is expected, " continued the officer; "in a quarter ofan hour there will be a hundred men around your house. "

"I reply to you, " said the Frenchman. "Let your men be sent away; I willcome out freely and repair to the camp alone, or else I will be killedhere!"

"Mille tonnerres!" shouted D'Artagnan; "why that's the voice of Athos!Ah, canailles!" and the sword of D'Artagnan flashed from its sheath. Monk stopped him and advanced himself, exclaiming, in a sonorous voice:"Hola! what is going on here? Digby, whence this fire? why these cries?"

"The general!" cried Digby, letting the point of his sword fall. 

"The general!" repeated the soldiers. 

"Well, what is there so astonishing in that?" said Monk, in a calm tone. Then, silence being re-established--"Now, " said he, "who lit this fire?"

The soldiers hung their heads. 

"What! do I ask a question, and nobody answers me?" said Monk. "What!do I find a fault, and nobody repairs it? The fire is still burning, Ibelieve. "

Immediately the twenty men rushed forward, seizing pails, buckets, jars, barrels, and extinguishing the fire with as much ardor as they had, aninstant before employed in promoting it. But already, and before all therest, D'Artagnan had applied a ladder to the house crying, "Athos! itis I, D'Artagnan! Do not kill me my dearest friend!" And in a moment thecount was clasped in his arms. 

In the meantime, Grimaud, preserving his calmness, dismantled thefortification of the ground-floor, and after having opened the door, stood with his arms folded quietly on the sill. Only, on hearing thevoice of D'Artagnan, he uttered an exclamation of surprise. The firebeing extinguished, the soldiers presented themselves, Digby at theirhead. 

"General, " said he, "excuse us; what we have done was for love of yourhonor, whom we thought lost. "

"You are mad, gentlemen. Lost! Is a man like me to be lost? Am I notpermitted to be absent, according to my pleasure, without giving formalnotice? Do you, by chance, take me for a citizen from the city? Isa gentleman, my friend, my guest, to be besieged, entrapped, andthreatened with death, because he is suspected? What signifies thatword, suspected? Curse me if I don't have every one of you shot likedogs that the brave gentleman has left alive!"

"General, " said Digby, piteously, "there were twenty-eight of us, andsee, there are eight on the ground. "

"I authorize M. Le Comte de la Fere to send the twenty to join theeight, " said Monk, stretching out his hand to Athos. "Let them return tocamp. Mr. Digby, you will consider yourself under arrest for a month. "

"General----"

"That is to teach you, sir, not to act, another time, without orders. "

"I had those of the lieutenant, general. "

"The lieutenant has no such orders to give you, and he shall be placedunder arrest, instead of you, if he has really commanded you to burnthis gentleman. "

"He did not command that, general; he commanded us to bring him to thecamp; but the count was not willing to follow us. "

"I was not willing that they should enter and plunder my house, " saidAthos to Monk, with a significant look. 

"And you were quite right. To the camp, I say. " The soldiers departedwith dejected looks. "Now we are alone, " said Monk to Athos, "have thegoodness to tell me, monsieur, why you persisted in remaining here, whilst you had your felucca----"

"I waited for you, general, " said Athos. "Had not your honor appointedto meet me in a week?"

An eloquent look from D'Artagnan made it clear to Monk that these twomen, so brave and so loyal, had not acted in concert for his abduction. He knew already it could not be so. 

"Monsieur, " said he to D'Artagnan, "you were perfectly right. Have thekindness to allow me a moment's conversation with M. Le Comte de laFere?"

D'Artagnan took advantage of this to go and ask Grimaud how he was. Monkrequested Athos to conduct him to the chamber he lived in. 

This chamber was still full of smoke and rubbish. More than fifty ballshad passed through the windows and mutilated the walls. They found atable, inkstand, and materials for writing. Monk took up a pen, wrotea single line, signed it, folded the paper, sealed the letter withthe seal of his ring, and handed over the missive to Athos, saying, "Monsieur, carry, if you please, this letter to King Charles II. , andset out immediately, if nothing detains you here any longer. "

"And the casks?" said Athos. 

"The fisherman who brought me hither will assist you in transportingthem on board. Depart, if possible, within an hour. "

"Yes, general, " said Athos. 

"Monsieur d'Artagnan!" cried Monk, from the window. D'Artagnan ran upprecipitately. 

"Embrace your friend and bid him adieu, sir; he is returning toHolland. "

"To Holland!" cried D'Artagnan; "and I?"

"You are at liberty to follow him, monsieur, but I request you toremain, " said Monk. "Will you refuse me?"

"Oh, no, general; I am at your orders. "

D'Artagnan embraced Athos, and only had time to bid him adieu. Monkwatched them both. Then he took upon himself the preparations for thedeparture, the transportation of the casks on board, and the embarkingof Athos; then, taking D'Artagnan by the arm, who was quite amazed andagitated, he led him towards Newcastle. Whilst going along, thegeneral leaning on his arm, D'Artagnan could not help murmuring tohimself, --"Come, come, it seems to me that the shares of the firm ofPlanchet and Company are rising. "

CHAPTER 31. Monk reveals himself

D'Artagnan, although he flattered himself with better success, had, nevertheless, not too well comprehended his situation. It was a strangeand grave subject for him to reflect upon--this voyage of Athos intoEngland; this league of the king with Athos, and that extraordinarycombination of his design with that of the Comte de la Fere. The bestway was to let things follow their own train. An imprudence had beencommitted, and, whilst having succeeded, as he had promised, D'Artagnanfound that he had gained no advantage by his success. Since everythingwas lost, he could risk no more. 

D'Artagnan followed Monk through his camp. The return of the general hadproduced a marvelous effect, for his people had thought him lost. ButMonk, with his austere look and icy demeanor, appeared to ask of hiseager lieutenants and delighted soldiers the cause of all this joy. Therefore, to the lieutenants who had come to meet him, and whoexpressed the uneasiness with which they had learnt his departure, --

"Why is all this?" said he; "am I obliged to give you an account ofmyself?"

"But, your honor, the sheep may well tremble without the shepherd. "

"Tremble!" replied Monk, in his calm and powerful voice; "ah, monsieur, what a word! Curse me, if my sheep have not both teeth and claws; Irenounce being their shepherd. Ah, you tremble, gentlemen, do you?"

"Yes, general, for you. "

"Oh! pray meddle with your own concerns. If I have not the wit God gaveto Oliver Cromwell, I have that which He has sent to me: I am satisfiedwith it, however little it may be. "

The officer made no reply; and Monk, having imposed silence on hispeople, all remained persuaded that he had accomplished some importantwork or made some important trial. This was forming a very poorconception of his patience and scrupulous genius. Monk, if he had thegood faith of the Puritans, his allies, must have returned ferventthanks to the patron saint who had taken him from the box of M. D'Artagnan. Whilst these things were going on, our musketeer could nothelp constantly repeating, --

"God grant that M. Monk may not have as much pride as I have; for Ideclare if any one had put me into a coffer with that grating over mymouth, and carried me packed up, like a calf, across the seas, I shouldcherish such a memory of my piteous looks in that coffer, and such anugly animosity against him who had inclosed me in it, I should dread sogreatly to see a sarcastic smile blooming upon the face of the maliciouswretch, or in his attitude any grotesque imitation of my position in thebox, that, Mordioux! I should plunge a good dagger into his throat incompensation for the grating, and would nail him down in a veritablebier, in remembrance of the false coffin in which I had been left togrow moldy for two days. "

And D'Artagnan spoke honestly when he spoke thus; for the skin of ourGascon was a very thin one. Monk, fortunately, entertained other ideas. He never opened his mouth to his timid conqueror concerning the past;but he admitted him very near to his person in his labors, took him withhim to several reconnoiterings, in such a way as to obtain that which heevidently warmly desired, --a rehabilitation in the mind of D'Artagnan. The latter conducted himself like a past-master in the art of flattery:he admired all Monk's tactics, and the ordering of his camp, he jokedvery pleasantly upon the circumvallations of Lambert's camp, who had, he said, very uselessly given himself the trouble to inclose a campfor twenty thousand men, whilst an acre of ground would have been quitesufficient for the corporal and fifty guards who would perhaps remainfaithful to him. 

Monk, immediately after his arrival, had accepted the propositionmade by Lambert the evening before, for an interview, and whichMonk's lieutenants had refused under the pretext that the general wasindisposed. This interview was neither long nor interesting: Lambertdemanded a profession of faith from his rival. The latter declared hehad no other opinion than that of the majority. Lambert asked if itwould not be more expedient to terminate the quarrel by an alliancethan by a battle. Monk hereupon demanded a week for consideration. Now, Lambert could not refuse this: and Lambert, nevertheless, had come, saying that he should devour Monk's army. Therefore, at the end of theinterview, which Lambert's party watched with impatience, nothing wasdecided--neither treaty nor battle--the rebel army, as M. D'Artagnanhad foreseen, began to prefer the good cause to the bad one, and theparliament, rumpish as it was, to the pompous nothings of Lambert'sdesigns. 

They remembered, likewise, the good feasts of London---the profusion ofale and sherry with which the citizens of London paid their friendsthe soldiers;--they looked with terror at the black war bread, at thetroubled waters of the Tweed, --too salt for the glass, not enough so forthe pot; and they said to themselves, "Are not the roast meats kept warmfor Monk in London?" From that time nothing was heard of but desertionin Lambert's army. The soldiers allowed themselves to be drawn away bythe force of principles, which are, like discipline, the obligatorytie in everybody constituted for any purpose. Monk defended theparliament--Lambert attacked it. Monk had no more inclination to supportparliament than Lambert, but he had it inscribed on his standards, sothat all those of the contrary party were reduced to write upon theirs"Rebellion, " which sounded ill to puritan ears. They flocked, then, fromLambert to Monk, as sinners flock from Baal to God. 

Monk made his calculations, at a thousand desertions a day Lambert hadmen enough to last twenty days; but there is in sinking things such agrowth of weight and swiftness, which combine with each other, thata hundred left the first day, five hundred the second, a thousand thethird. Monk thought he had obtained his rate. But from one thousand thedeserters increased to two thousand, then to four thousand, and, a weekafter, Lambert, perceiving that he had no longer the possibility ofaccepting battle, if it were offered to him, took the wise resolutionof decamping during the night, returning to London, and being beforehandwith Monk in constructing a power with the wreck of the military party. 

But Monk, free and without uneasiness, marched towards London as aconqueror, augmenting his army with all the floating parties on hisway. He encamped at Barnet, that is to say, within four leagues of thecapital, cherished by the parliament, which thought it beheld in him aprotector, and awaited by the people, who were anxious to see him revealhimself, that they might judge him. D'Artagnan himself had not been ableto fathom his tactics; he observed--he admired. Monk could not enterLondon with a settled determination without bringing about civil war. Hetemporized for a short time. 

Suddenly, when least expected, Monk drove the military party out ofLondon, and installed himself in the city amidst the citizens, by orderof the parliament; then, at the moment when the citizens were crying outagainst Monk--at the moment when the soldiers themselves were accusingtheir leader--Monk, finding himself certain of a majority, declared tothe Rump Parliament that it must abdicate--be dissolved--and yield itsplace to a government which would not be a joke. Monk pronounced thisdeclaration, supported by fifty thousand swords, to which, that sameevening, were united, with shouts of delirious joy, the five hundredthousand inhabitants of the good city of London. At length, at themoment when the people, after their triumphs and festive repasts in theopen streets, were looking about for a master, it was affirmed that avessel had left the Hague, bearing Charles II. And his fortunes. 

"Gentlemen, " said Monk to his officers, "I am going to meet thelegitimate king. He who loves me will follow me. " A burst ofacclamations welcomed these words, which D'Artagnan did not hear withoutthe greatest delight. 

"Mordioux!" said he to Monk, "that is bold, monsieur. "

"You will accompany me, will you not?" said Monk. 

"Pardieu! general. But tell me, I beg, what you wrote by Athos, that isto say, the Comte de la Fere--you know--the day of our arrival?"

"I have no secrets from you now, " replied Monk. "I wrote these words:'Sire, I expect your majesty in six weeks at Dover. '"

"Ah!" said D'Artagnan, "I no longer say it is bold; I say it is wellplayed; it is a fine stroke!"

"You are something of a judge in such matters, " replied Monk. 

And this was the only time the general had ever made an allusion to hisvoyage to Holland. 

CHAPTER 32. Athos and D'Artagnan meet once more at the Hostelry of theCorne du Cerf

The king of England made his entree into Dover with great pomp, as heafterwards did in London. He had sent for his brothers; he had broughtover his mother and sister. England had been for so long a time given upto herself--that is to say, to tyranny, mediocrity, and nonsense--thatthis return of Charles II. , whom the English only knew as the son of theman whose head they had cut off, was a festival for the threekingdoms. Consequently, all the good wishes, all the acclamationswhich accompanied his return, struck the young king so forcibly that hestooped and whispered in the ear of James of York, his younger brother, "In truth, James, it seems to have been our own fault that we were solong absent from a country where we are so much beloved!" The pageantwas magnificent. Beautiful weather favored the solemnity. Charleshad regained all his youth, all his good humor; he appeared to betransfigured; hearts seemed to smile on him like the sun. Amongst thisnoisy crowd of courtiers and worshippers, who did not appear to rememberthey had conducted to the scaffold at Whitehall the father of the newking, a man, in the garb of a lieutenant of musketeers, looked, witha smile upon his thin, intellectual lips, sometimes at the peoplevociferating their blessings, and sometimes at the prince, who pretendedemotion, and who bowed most particularly to the women, whose bouquetsfell beneath his horse's feet. 

"What a fine trade is that of king!" said this man, so completelyabsorbed in contemplation that he stopped in the middle of his road, leaving the cortege to file past. "Now, there is, in good truth, aprince all bespangled over with gold and diamonds, enamelled withflowers like a spring meadow; he is about to plunge his empty handsinto the immense coffer in which his now faithful--but so latelyunfaithful--subjects have amassed one or two cartloads of ingots ofgold. They cast bouquets enough upon him to smother him; and yet, if hehad presented himself to them two months ago, they would have sent asmany bullets and balls at him as they now throw flowers. Decidedly it isworth something to be born in a certain sphere, with due respect to thelowly, who pretend that it is of very little advantage to them to beborn lowly. " The cortege continued to file on, and, with the king, theacclamations began to die away in the direction of the palace which, however, did not prevent our officer from being pushed about. 

"Mordioux!" continued the reasoner, "these people tread upon my toes andlook upon me as of very little consequence, or rather of none at all, seeing that they are Englishmen and I am a Frenchman. If all thesepeople were asked, --'Who is M. D'Artagnan?' they would reply, 'Nesciovos. ' But let any one say to them, 'There is the king going by, ' 'Thereis M. Monk going by, ' they would run away, shouting, --'Vive le roi!''Vive M. Monk!' till their lungs were exhausted. And yet, " continued he, surveying, with that look sometimes so keen and sometimes so proud, thediminishing crowd, --"and yet, reflect a little, my good people, on whatyour king has done, on what M. Monk has done, and then think what hasbeen done by this poor unknown, who is called M. D'Artagnan! It is trueyou do not know him, since he is here unknown, and that prevents yourthinking about the matter! But, bah! what matters it! All that does notprevent Charles II. From being a great king, although he has been exiledtwelve years, or M. Monk from being a great captain, although he didmake a voyage to Holland in a box. Well, then, since it is admitted thatone is a great king and the other a great captain, --'Hurrah for KingCharles II. !--Hurrah for General Monk!'" And his voice mingled withthe voices of the hundreds of spectators, over which it sounded for amoment. Then, the better to play the devoted man, he took off his hatand waved it in the air. Some one seized his arm in the very height ofhis expansive royalism. (In 1660 that was so termed which we now callroyalism. )

"Athos!" cried D'Artagnan, "you here!" And the two friends seized eachother's hands. 

"You here!--and being here, " continued the musketeer, "you are not inthe midst of all these courtiers my dear comte! What! you, the hero ofthe fete, you are not prancing on the left hand of the king, as M. Monkis prancing on the right? In truth, I cannot comprehend your character, nor that of the prince who owes you so much!"

"Always scornful, my dear D'Artagnan!" said Athos. "Will you nevercorrect yourself of that vile habit?"

"But, you do not form part of the pageant?"

"I do not, because I was not willing to do so. "

"And why were you not willing?"

"Because I am neither envoy nor ambassador, nor representative of theking of France; and it does not become me to exhibit myself thus nearthe person of another king than the one God has given me for a master. "

"Mordioux! you came very near to the person of the king, his father. "

"That was another thing, my friend; he was about to die. "

"And yet that which you did for him----"

"I did it because it was my duty to do it. But you know I hate allostentation. Let King Charles II. , then, who no longer stands in need ofme, leave me to my rest, and in the shadow; that is all I claim of him. "

D'Artagnan sighed. 

"What is the matter with you?" said Athos. "One would say that thishappy return of the king to London saddens you, my friend; you who havedone at least as much for his majesty as I have. "

"Have I not, " replied D'Artagnan, with his Gascon laugh, "have I notdone much for his majesty, without any one suspecting it?"

"Yes, yes, but the king is well aware of it my friend, " cried Athos. 

"He is aware of it!" said the musketeer bitterly. "By my faith! I didnot suspect so, and I was even a moment ago trying to forget it myself. "

"But he, my friend, will not forget it, I will answer for him. "

"You tell me that to console me a little, Athos. "

"For what?"

"Mordioux! for all the expense I incurred. I have ruined myself, myfriend, ruined myself for the restoration of this young prince who hasjust passed, cantering on his isabelle colored horse. "

"The king does not know you have ruined yourself, my friend, but heknows he owes you much. "

"And say, Athos, does that advance me in any respect? for, to do youjustice, you have labored nobly. But I--I, who in appearance marredyour combinations, it was I who really made them succeed. Follow mycalculations; closely, you might not have, by persuasions or mildnessconvinced General Monk, whilst I so roughly treated this dear general, that I furnished your prince with an opportunity of showing himselfgenerous: this generosity was inspired in him by the fact of myfortunate mistake, and Charles is paid by the restoration which Monk hasbrought about. "

"All that, my dear friend, is strikingly true, " replied Athos. 

"Well, strikingly true as it may be, it is not less true, my friend, that I shall return--greatly beloved by M. Monk, who calls medear captain all day long, although I am neither dear to him nor acaptain;--and much appreciated by the king, who has already forgotten myname;--it is not less true, I say, that I shall return to my beautifulcountry, cursed by the soldiers I had raised with the hopes of largepay, cursed by the brave Planchet, of whom I borrowed a part of hisfortune. "

"How is that? What the devil had Planchet to do in all this?"

"Ah, yes, my friend, but this king, so spruce, so smiling, so adored, M. Monk fancies he has recalled him, you fancy you have supported him, I fancy I have brought him back, the people fancy they have reconqueredhim, he himself fancies he has negotiated his restoration; and yetnothing of all this is true, for Charles II. , king of England, Scotland, and Ireland, has been replaced upon the throne by a French grocer, who lives in the Rue des Lombards, and is named Planchet. And such isgrandeur! 'Vanity!' says the Scripture: 'vanity, all is vanity. '"

Athos could not help laughing at this whimsical outbreak of his friend. 

"My dear D'Artagnan, " said he, pressing his hand affectionately, "shouldyou not exercise a little more philosophy? Is it not some furthersatisfaction to you to have saved my life as you did by arriving sofortunately with Monk, when those damned parliamentarians wanted to burnme alive?"

"Well, but you, in some degree, deserved a little burning, my friend. "

"How so? What, for having saved King Charles's million?"

"What million?"

"Ah, that is true! you never knew that, my friend; but you must not beangry, for it was not my secret. That word 'Remember' which the kingpronounced upon the scaffold. "

"And which means 'souviens-toi!'"

"Exactly. That was signified. 'Remember there is a million buried in thevaults of Newcastle Abbey, and that that million belongs to my son. '"

"Ah! very well, I understand. But what I understand likewise, and whatis very frightful, is, that every time his majesty Charles II. Willthink of me, he will say to himself: 'There is the man who came verynear making me lose my crown. Fortunately I was generous, great, full ofpresence of mind. ' That will be said by the young gentleman in a shabbyblack doublet, who came to the chateau of Blois, hat in hand, to ask meif I would give him access to the king of France. "

"D'Artagnan! D'Artagnan!" said Athos, laying his hand on the shoulder ofthe musketeer, "you are unjust. "

"I have a right to be so. "

"No--for you are ignorant of the future. "

D'Artagnan looked his friend full in the face, and began to laugh. "Intruth, my dear Athos, " said he, "you have some sayings so superb, thatthey only belong to you and M. Le Cardinal Mazarin. "

Athos frowned slightly. 

"I beg your pardon, " continued D'Artagnan, laughing, "I beg your pardon, if I have offended you. The future! Nein! what pretty words are wordsthat promise, and how well they fill the mouth in default of otherthings! Mordioux! After having met with so many who promised, when shallI find one who will give? But, let that pass!" continued D'Artagnan. "What are you doing here, my dear Athos? Are you the king's treasurer?"

"How--why the king's treasurer?"

"Well, since the king possesses a million, he must want a treasurer. The king of France, although he is not worth a sou, has still asuperintendent of finance, M. Fouquet. It is true that, in exchange, M. Fouquet, they say, has a good number of millions of his own. "

"Oh! our million was spent long ago, " said Athos, laughing in his turn. 

"I understand, it was frittered away in satin, precious stones, velvet, and feathers of all sorts and colors. All these princes and princessesstood in great need of tailors and dressmakers. Eh! Athos, do youremember what we fellows spent in equipping ourselves for the campaignof La Rochelle, and to make our appearance on horseback? Two or threethousand livres, by my faith! But a king's robe is more ample; it wouldrequire a million to purchase the stuff. At least, Athos, if you are nottreasurer, you are on a good footing at court. "

"By the faith of a gentleman, I know nothing about it, " said Athos, simply. 

"What! you know nothing about it?"

"No! I have not seen the king since we left Dover. "

"Then he has forgotten you, too! Mordioux! That is shameful!"

"His majesty has had so much business to transact. "

"Oh!" cried D'Artagnan, with one of those intelligent grimaces which healone knew how to make, "that is enough to make me recover my love forMonseigneur Giulio Mazarini. What, Athos the king has not seen you sincethen?"

"No. "

"And you are not furious?"

"I! Why should I be? Do you imagine, my dear D'Artagnan, that it was onthe king's account I acted as I have done? I did not know the young man. I defended the father, who represented a principle--sacred in my eyes, and I allowed myself to be drawn towards the son from sympathy for thissame principle. Besides, he was a worthy knight, a noble creature, thatfather: do you remember him?"

"Yes; that is true; he was a brave, an excellent man, who led a sadlife, but made a fine end. "

"Well, my dear D'Artagnan, understand this; to that king, to that manof heart, to that friend of my thoughts, if I durst venture to say so, I swore at the last hour to preserve faithfully the secret of a depositwhich was to be transmitted to his son, to assist him in his hour ofneed. This young man came to me; he described his destitution; he wasignorant that he was anything to me save a living memory of his father. I have accomplished towards Charles II. What I promised Charles I. ; thatis all! Of what consequence is it to me, then, whether he be grateful ornot? It is to myself I have rendered a service, by relieving myself ofthis responsibility, and not to him. "

"Well, I have always said, " replied D'Artagnan, with a sigh, "thatdisinterestedness was the finest thing in the world. "

"Well, and you, my friend, " resumed Athos, "are you not in the samesituation as myself? If I have properly understood your words, youallowed yourself to be affected by the misfortunes of this young man;that, on your part, was much greater than it was upon mine, for I had aduty to fulfill, whilst you were under no obligation to the son of themartyr. You had not, on your part, to pay him the price of that preciousdrop of blood which he let fall upon my brow, through the floor of hisscaffold. That which made you act was heart alone--the noble and goodheart which you possess beneath your apparent skepticism and sarcasticirony; you have engaged the fortune of a servitor, and your own, Isuspect, my benevolent miser! and your sacrifice is not acknowledged!Of what consequence is it? You wish to repay Planchet his money. I cancomprehend that, my friend: for it is not becoming in a gentlemanto borrow from his inferior, without returning to him principal andinterest. Well, I will sell La Fere if necessary, and if not, somelittle farm. You shall pay Planchet, and there will be enough, believeme, of corn left in my granaries for us two and Raoul. In this way, myfriend, you will be under obligations to nobody but yourself, and, ifI know you well, it will not be a small satisfaction to your mind to beable to say, 'I have made a king!' Am I right?"

"Athos! Athos!" murmured D'Artagnan, thoughtfully, "I have told youmore than once that the day on which you will preach I shall attend thesermon; the day on which you will tell me there is a hell--Mordioux! Ishall be afraid of the gridiron and the pitchforks. You are better thanI, or rather, better than anybody, and I only acknowledge the possessionof one quality, and that is, of not being jealous. Except that defect, damme, as the English say, if I have not all the rest. "

"I know no one equal to D'Artagnan, " replied Athos; "but here weare, having quietly reached the house I inhabit. Will you come in, myfriend?"

"Eh! why, this is the tavern of the Corne du Cerf, I think, " saidD'Artagnan. 

"I confess I chose it on purpose. I like old acquaintances; I like tosit down on that place, whereon I sank, overcome by fatigue, overwhelmedwith despair, when you returned on the 31st of January. "

"After having discovered the abode of the masked executioner? Yes, thatwas a terrible day!"

"Come in, then, " said Athos, interrupting him. 

They entered the large apartment, formerly the common one. The tavern, in general, and this room in particular, had undergone great changes;the ancient host of the musketeers, having become tolerably rich for aninnkeeper, had closed his shop, and made of this room of which we werespeaking, a store-room for colonial provisions. As for the rest of thehouse, he let it ready furnished to strangers. It was with unspeakableemotion D'Artagnan recognized all the furniture of the chamber of thefirst story; the wainscoting, the tapestries, and even that geographicalchart which Porthos had so fondly studied in his moments of leisure. 

"It is eleven years ago, " cried D'Artagnan. "Mordioux! it appears to mea century!"

"And to me but a day, " said Athos. "Imagine the joy I experience, myfriend, in seeing you there, in pressing your hand, in casting from mesword and dagger, and tasting without mistrust this glass of sherry. And, oh! what still further joy it would be, if our two friends werethere, at the two corners of the tables, and Raoul, my beloved Raoul, onthe threshold, looking at us with his large eyes, at once so brilliantand so soft!"

"Yes, yes, " said D'Artagnan, much affected, "that is true. I approveparticularly of the first part of your thought; it is very pleasant tosmile there where we have so legitimately shuddered in thinking thatfrom one moment to another M. Mordaunt might appear upon the landing. "

At this moment the door opened, and D'Artagnan, brave as he was, couldnot restrain a slight movement of fright. Athos understood him, and, smiling, --

"It is our host, " said he, "bringing me a letter. "

"Yes, my lord, " said the good man; "here is a letter for your honor. "

"Thank you, " said Athos, taking the letter without looking at it. "Tellme, my dear host, if you do not remember this gentleman?"

The old man raised his head, and looked attentively at D'Artagnan. 

"No, " said he. 

"It is, " said Athos, "one of those friends of whom I have spoken to you, and who lodged here with me eleven years ago. "

"Oh! but, " said the old man, "so many strangers have lodged here!"

"But we lodged here on the 30th of January, 1649, " added Athos, believing he should stimulate the lazy memory of the host by thisremark. 

"That is very possible, " replied he, smiling; "but it is so long ago!"and he bowed, and went out. 

"Thank you, " said D'Artagnan--"perform exploits, accomplish revolutions, endeavor to engrave your name in stone or bronze with strong swords!there is something more rebellious, more hard, more forgetful than iron, bronze, or stone, and that is, the brain of a lodging-house keeper whohas grown rich in the trade, --he does not know me! Well, I should haveknown him, though. "

Athos, smiling at his friend's philosophy, unsealed his letter. 

"Ah!" said he, "a letter from Parry. "

"Oh! oh!" said D'Artagnan; "read it, my friend, read it! No doubt itcontains news. "

Athos shook his head, and read:

Monsieur le Comte. --The king has experienced much regret at not seeingyou to-day beside him, at his entrance. His majesty commands me to sayso, and to recall him to your memory. His majesty will expect you thisevening, at the palace of St. James, between nine and ten o'clock. 

"I am, respectfully, monsieur le comte, your honor's very humble andvery obedient servant, --Parry. "

"You see, my dear D'Artagnan, " said Athos, "we must not despair of thehearts of kings. "

"Not despair! you are right to say so!" replied D'Artagnan. 

"Oh! my dear, very dear friend, " resumed Athos, whom the almostimperceptible bitterness of D'Artagnan had not escaped. "Pardon me! canI have unintentionally wounded my best comrade?"

"You are mad, Athos, and to prove it, I shall conduct you to the palace;to the very gate, I mean; the walk will do me good. "

"You shall go in with me, my friend; I will speak to his majesty. "

"No, no!" replied D'Artagnan, with true pride, free from all mixture;"if there is anything worse than begging yourself, it is making othersbeg for you. Come, let us go, my friend, the walk will be charming; onthe way I shall show you the house of M. Monk, who has detained mewith him. A beautiful house, by my faith. Being a general in England isbetter than being a marechal in France, please to know. "

Athos allowed himself to be led along, quite saddened by D'Artagnan'sforced attempts at gayety. The whole city was in a state of joy; the twofriends were jostled at every moment by enthusiasts who required them, in their intoxication, to cry out, "Long live good King Charles!"D'Artagnan replied by a grunt, and Athos by a smile. They arrived thusin front of Monk's house, before which, as we have said, they had topass on their way to St. James's. 

Athos and D'Artagnan said but little on the road, for the simple reasonthat they would have had so many things to talk about if they hadspoken. Athos thought that by speaking he should evince satisfaction, and that might wound D'Artagnan. The latter feared that in speaking heshould allow some little bitterness to steal into his words which wouldrender his company unpleasant to his friend. It was a singular emulationof silence between contentment and ill-humor. D'Artagnan gave wayfirst to that itching at the tip of his tongue which he so habituallyexperienced. 

"Do you remember, Athos, " said he, "the passage of the 'Memoires deD'Aubigny, ' in which that devoted servant, a Gascon like myself, poor asmyself, and, I was going to add, brave as myself, relates instances ofthe meanness of Henry IV. ? My father always told me, I remember, thatD'Aubigny was a liar. But, nevertheless, examine how all the princes, the issue of the great Henry, keep up the character of the race. "

"Nonsense!" said Athos, "the kings of France misers? You are mad, myfriend. "

"Oh! you are so perfect yourself, you never agree to the faults ofothers. But, in reality, Henry IV. Was covetous, Louis XIII. , his son, was so likewise; we know something of that, don't we? Gaston carriedthis vice to exaggeration, and has made himself, in this respect, hated by all who surround him. Henriette, poor woman, might well beavaricious, she who did not eat every day, and could not warm herselfevery winter; and that is an example she has given to her son CharlesII. , grandson of the great Henry IV. , who is as covetous as his motherand his grandfather. See if I have well traced the genealogy of themisers?"

"D'Artagnan, my friend, " cried Athos, "you are very rude towards thateagle race called the Bourbons. "

"Eh! and I have forgotten the best instance of all--the other grandsonof the Bearnais, Louis XIV. , my ex-master. Well, I hope he is miserlyenough, he who would not lend a million to his brother Charles! Good! Isee you are beginning to be angry. Here we are, by good luck, close tomy house, or rather to that of my friend, M. Monk. "

"My dear D'Artagnan, you do not make me angry, you make me sad; it iscruel, in fact, to see a man of your deserts out of the position hisservices ought to have acquired; it appears to me, my dear friend, thatyour name is as radiant as the greatest names in war and diplomacy. Tellme if the Luynes, the Ballegardes, and the Bassompierres have merited, as we have, fortunes and honors? You are right, my friend, a hundredtimes right. "

D'Artagnan sighed, and preceded his friend under the porch of themansion Monk inhabited, at the extremity of the city. "Permit me, "said he, "to leave my purse at home; for if in the crowd those cleverpickpockets of London, who are much boasted of, even in Paris, were tosteal from me the remainder of my poor crowns, I should not be able toreturn to France. Now, content I left France, and wild with joy I shouldreturn to it, seeing that all my prejudices of former days againstEngland have returned, accompanied by many others. "

Athos made no reply. 

"So then, my dear friend, one second, and I will follow you, " saidD'Artagnan. "I know you are in a hurry to go yonder to receive yourreward, but, believe me, I am not less eager to partake of your joy, although from a distance. Wait for me. " And D'Artagnan was alreadypassing through the vestibule, when a man, half servant, half soldier, who filled in Monk's establishment the double functions of porter andguard, stopped our musketeer, saying to him in English:

"I beg your pardon, my Lord d'Artagnan!"

"Well, " replied the latter: "what is it? Is the general going to dismissme? I only needed to be expelled by him. "

These words, spoken in French, made no impression upon the person towhom they were addressed and who himself only spoke an English mixedwith the rudest Scotch. But Athos was grieved at them, for he began tothink D'Artagnan was not wrong. 

The Englishman showed D'Artagnan a letter: "From the general, " said he. 

"Aye! that's it, my dismissal!" replied the Gascon. "Must I read it, Athos?"

"You must be deceived, " said Athos, "or I know no more honest people inthe world but you and myself. "

D'Artagnan shrugged his shoulders and unsealed the letter, while theimpassible Englishman held for him a large lantern, by the light ofwhich he was enabled to read it. 

"Well, what is the matter?" said Athos, seeing the countenance of thereader change. 

"Read it yourself, " said the musketeer. 

Athos took the paper and read:

"Monsieur d'Artagnan. --The king regrets very much you did not come to St. Paul's with his cortege. He missed you, as I also have missed you, mydear captain. There is but one means of repairing all this. His majestyexpects me at nine o'clock at the palace of St. James's: will you bethere at the same time with me? His gracious majesty appoints that hourfor an audience he grants you. "

This letter was from Monk. 

CHAPTER 33. The Audience. 

"Well?" cried Athos with a mild look of reproach when D'Artagnan hadread the letter addressed to him by Monk. 

"Well!" said D'Artagnan, red with pleasure, and a little with shame, at having so hastily accused the king and Monk. "This is apoliteness, --which leads to nothing, it is true, but yet it is apoliteness. "

"I had great difficulty in believing the young prince ungrateful, " saidAthos. 

"The fact is, that his present is still too near his past, " repliedD'Artagnan; "after all, everything to the present moment proved meright. "

"I acknowledge it, my dear friend, I acknowledge it. Ah! there is yourcheerful look returned. You cannot think how delighted I am. "

"Thus you see, " said D'Artagnan, "Charles II. Receives M. Monk at nineo'clock; he will receive me at ten; it is a grand audience, of the sortwhich at the Louvre are called 'distributions of court holy water. 'Come, let us go and place ourselves under the spout, my dear friend!Come along. "

Athos replied nothing; and both directed their steps, at a quick pace, towards the palace of St. James's, which the crowd still surrounded, to catch, through the windows, the shadows of the courtiers, and thereflection of the royal person. Eight o'clock was striking when thetwo friends took their places in the gallery filled with courtiers andpoliticians. Every one looked at these simply-dressed men in foreigncostumes, at these two noble heads so full of character and meaning. On their side, Athos and D'Artagnan, having with two glances taken themeasure of the whole assembly, resumed their chat. 

A great noise was suddenly heard at the extremity of the gallery, --itwas General Monk, who entered, followed by more than twenty officers, all eager for a smile, as only the evening before he was master of allEngland, and a glorious morrow was looked to, for the restorer of theStuart family. 

"Gentlemen, " said Monk, turning round, "henceforward I beg you toremember that I am no longer anything. Lately I commanded the principalarmy of the republic; now that army is the king's, into whose hands I amabout to surrender, at his command, my power of yesterday. "

Great surprise was painted on all the countenances, and the circle ofadulators and suppliants which surrounded Monk an instant before, wasenlarged by degrees, and ended by being lost in the large undulationsof the crowd. Monk was going into the ante-chamber as others did. D'Artagnan could not help remarking this to the Comte de la Fere, who frowned on beholding it. Suddenly the door of the royal apartmentopened, and the young king appeared, preceded by two officers of hishousehold. 

"Good evening, gentlemen, " said he. "Is General Monk here?"

"I am here, sire, " replied the old general. 

Charles stepped hastily towards him, and seized his hand with thewarmest demonstration of friendship. "General, " said the king, aloud, "I have just signed your patent, --you are Duke of Albemarle; and myintention is that no one shall equal you in power and fortune in thiskingdom, where--the noble Montrose excepted--no one has equaled you inloyalty, courage, and talent. Gentlemen, the duke is commander of ourarmies of land and sea; pay him your respects, if you please, in thatcharacter. "

Whilst every one was pressing round the general, who received all thishomage without losing his impassibility for an instant, D'Artagnan saidto Athos: "When one thinks that this duchy, this commander of the landand sea forces, all these grandeurs, in a word, have been shut up in abox six feet long and three feet wide----"

"My friend, " replied Athos, "much more imposing grandeurs are confinedin boxes still smaller, --and remain there forever. "

All at once Monk perceived the two gentlemen, who held themselves asideuntil the crowd had diminished; he made himself a passage towardsthem, so that he surprised them in the midst of their philosophicalreflections. "Were you speaking of me?" said he, with a smile. 

"My lord, " replied Athos, "we were speaking likewise of God. "

Monk reflected for a moment, and then replied gayly: "Gentlemen, letus speak a little of the king likewise, if you please; for you have, Ibelieve, an audience of his majesty. "

"At nine o'clock, " said Athos. 

"At ten o'clock, " said D'Artagnan. 

"Let us go into this closet at once, " replied Monk, making a sign to histwo companions to precede him; but to that neither would consent. 

The king, during this discussion so characteristic of the French, hadreturned to the center of the gallery. 

"Oh! my Frenchmen!" said he, in that tone of careless gayety which, in spite of so much grief and so many crosses, he had never lost. "MyFrenchmen! my consolation!" Athos and D'Artagnan bowed. 

"Duke, conduct these gentlemen into my study. I am at your service, messieurs, " added he in French. And he promptly expedited his court, toreturn to his Frenchmen, as he called them. "Monsieur d'Artagnan, " saidhe, as he entered his closet, "I am glad to see you again. "

"Sire, my joy is at its height, at having the honor to salute yourmajesty in your own palace of St. James's. "

"Monsieur, you have been willing to render me a great service, and I oweyou my gratitude for it. If I did not fear to intrude upon the rights ofour commanding general, I would offer you some post worthy of you nearour person. "

"Sire, " replied D'Artagnan, "I have quitted the service of the king ofFrance, making a promise to my prince not to serve any other king. "

"Humph!" said Charles, "I am sorry to hear that; I should like to domuch for you; I like you very much. "

"Sire----"

"But let us see, " said Charles with a smile, "if we cannot make youbreak your word. Duke, assist me. If you were offered, that is to say, if I offered you the chief command of my musketeers?" D'Artagnan bowedlower than before. 

"I should have the regret to refuse what your gracious majesty wouldoffer me, " said he; "a gentleman has but his word, and that word, asI have had the honor to tell your majesty, is engaged to the king ofFrance. "

"We shall say no more about it, then, " said the king, turningtowards Athos, and leaving D'Artagnan plunged in the deepest pangs ofdisappointment. 

"Ah! I said so!" muttered the musketeer. "Words! words! Court holywater! Kings have always a marvellous talent for offering us that whichthey know we will not accept, and in appearing generous without risk. Sobe it!--triple fool that I was to have hoped for a moment!"

During this time Charles took the hand of Athos. "Comte, " said he, "youhave been to me a second father; the services you have rendered me areabove all price. I have, nevertheless, thought of a recompense. You werecreated by my father a Knight of the Garter---that is an order which allthe kings of Europe cannot bear; by the queen regent, Knight of the HolyGhost--which is an order not less illustrious; I join to it that of theGolden Fleece sent me by the king of France, to whom the king of Spain, his father-in-law, gave two on the occasion of his marriage; but inreturn, I have a service to ask of you. "

"Sire, " said Athos, with confusion, "the Golden Fleece for me! whenthe king of France is the only person in my country who enjoys thatdistinction?"

"I wish you to be in your country and all others the equal of all thosewhom sovereigns have honored with their favor, " said Charles, drawingthe chain from his neck; "and I am sure, comte, my father smiles on mefrom his grave. "

"It is unaccountably strange, " said D'Artagnan to himself, whilsthis friend, on his knees, received the eminent order which the kingconferred on him--"it is almost incredible that I have always seenshowers of prosperity fall upon all who surrounded me, and that not adrop ever reached me! If I were a jealous man it would be enough to makeone tear one's hair, parole d'honneur!"

Athos rose from his knees, and Charles embraced him tenderly. "General!"said he to Monk--then stopping with a smile, "pardon me, duke, I mean. No wonder if I make a mistake; the word duke is too short for me, Ialways seek some title to lengthen it. I should wish to see you so nearmy throne, that I might say to you as to Louis XIV. , my brother! Oh! Ihave it, and you will be almost my brother, for I make you viceroyof Ireland and of Scotland, my dear duke. So, after that fashion, henceforward I shall not make a mistake. "

The duke seized the hand of the king, but without enthusiasm, withoutjoy, as he did everything. His heart, however, had been moved by thislast favor. Charles, by skillfully husbanding his generosity, had giventhe duke time to wish, although he might not have wished for so much aswas given him. 

"Mordioux!" grumbled D'Artagnan, "there is the shower beginning again!Oh! it is enough to turn one's brain!" and he turned away with an air sosorrowful and so comically piteous, that the king, who caught it, couldnot restrain a smile. Monk was preparing to leave the room, to takeleave of Charles. 

"What! my trusty and well-beloved!" said the king to the duke, "are yougoing?"

"With your majesty's permission, for in truth I am weary. The emotionsof the day have worn me out; I stand in need of rest. "

"But, " said the king, "you are not going without M. D'Artagnan, I hope. "

"Why not, sire?" said the old warrior. 

"Well! you know very well why, " said the king. 

Monk looked at Charles with astonishment. 

"Oh! it may be possible; but if you forget, you, M. D'Artagnan, do not. "

Astonishment was painted on the face of the musketeer. 

"Well, then, duke, " said the king, "do you not lodge with M. D'Artagnan?"

"I had the honor of offering M. D'Artagnan a lodging; yes, sire. "

"That idea is your own, and yours solely?"

"Mine and mine only; yes, sire. "

"Well! but it could not be otherwise--the prisoner always lodges withhis conqueror. "

Monk colored in his turn. "Ah! that is true, " said he, "I am M. D'Artagnan's prisoner. "

"Without doubt, duke, since you are not yet ransomed, but have no careof that; it was I who took you out of M. D'Artagnan's hands, and it is Iwho will pay your ransom. "

The eyes of D'Artagnan regained their gayety and their brilliancy. TheGascon began to understand. Charles advanced towards him. 

"The general, " said he, "is not rich, and cannot pay you what he isworth. I am richer, certainly, but now that he is a duke, and if not aking, almost a king, he is worth a sum I could not perhaps pay. Come, M. D'Artagnan, be moderate with me; how much do I owe you?"

D'Artagnan, delighted at the turn things were taking, but not for amoment losing his self-possession, replied, --"Sire, your majesty has nooccasion to be alarmed. When I had the good fortune to take his grace, M. Monk was only a general; it is therefore only a general's ransom thatis due to me. But if the general will have the kindness to deliver mehis sword, I shall consider myself paid; for there is nothing in theworld but the general's sword which is worth so much as himself. "

"Odds fish! as my father said, " cried Charles. "That is a gallantproposal, and a gallant man, is he not, duke?"

"Upon my honor, yes, sire, " and he drew his sword. "Monsieur, " said heto D'Artagnan, "here is what you demand. Many may have handled a betterblade; but however modest mine may be, I have never surrendered it toany one. "

D'Artagnan received with pride the sword which had just made a king. 

"Oh! oh!" cried Charles II. ; "what, a sword that has restored me to mythrone--to go out of the kingdom--and not, one day, to figure among thecrown jewels. No, on my soul! that shall not be! Captain d'Artagnan, Iwill give you two hundred thousand crowns for your sword! If that is toolittle, say so. "

"It is too little, sire, " replied D'Artagnan, with inimitableseriousness. "In the first place, I do not at all wish to sell it; butyour majesty desires me to do so, and that is an order. I obey, then, but the respect I owe to the illustrious warrior who hears me commandsme to estimate at a third more the reward of my victory. I ask thenthree hundred thousand crowns for the sword, or I shall give it to yourmajesty for nothing. " And taking it by the point he presented it to theking. Charles broke into hilarious laughter. 

"A gallant man, and a merry companion! Odds fish! is he not, duke? is henot, comte? He pleases me! I like him! Here, Chevalier d'Artagnan, takethis. " And going to the table, he took a pen and wrote an order upon histreasurer for three hundred thousand crowns. 

D'Artagnan took it, and turning gravely towards Monk: "I have stillasked too little, I know, " said he, "but believe me, your grace, I wouldrather have died than allow myself to be governed by avarice. "

The king began to laugh again, like the happiest cockney of his kingdom. 

"You will come and see me again before you go, chevalier?" said he; "Ishall want to lay in a stock of gayety now my Frenchmen are leaving me. "

"Ah! sire, it will not be with the gayety as with the duke's sword; Iwill give it to your majesty gratis, " replied D'Artagnan, whose feetscarcely seemed to touch the ground. 

"And you, comte, " added Charles, turning towards Athos, "come again, also, I have an important message to confide to you. Your hand, duke. "Monk pressed the hand of the king. 

"Adieu! gentlemen, " said Charles, holding out each of his hands to thetwo Frenchmen, who carried them to their lips. 

"Well, " said Athos, when they were out of the palace, "are yousatisfied?"

"Hush!" said D'Artagnan, wild with joy, "I have not yet returned fromthe treasurer's--a shutter may fall upon my head. "

CHAPTER 34. Of the Embarrassment of Riches

D'Artagnan lost no time, and as soon as the thing was suitable andopportune, he paid a visit to the lord treasurer of his majesty. He hadthen the satisfaction to exchange a piece of paper, covered with veryugly writing, for a prodigious number of crowns, recently stamped withthe effigies of his very gracious majesty Charles II. 

D'Artagnan easily controlled himself: and yet, on this occasion, hecould not help evincing a joy which the reader will perhaps comprehend, if he deigns to have some indulgence for a man who, since his birth, hadnever seen so many pieces and rolls of pieces juxtaplaced in an ordertruly agreeable to the eye. The treasurer placed all the rolls in bags, and closed each bag with a stamp sealed with the arms of England, afavor which treasurers do not grant to everybody. Then impassible, and just as polite as he ought to be towards a man honored with thefriendship of the king, he said to D'Artagnan:

"Take away your money, sir. " Your money! These words made a thousandchords vibrate in the heart of D'Artagnan, which he had never feltbefore. He had the bags packed in a small cart, and returned homemeditating deeply. A man who possesses three hundred thousand crownscan no longer expect to wear a smooth brow; a wrinkle for every hundredthousand livres is not too much. 

D'Artagnan shut himself up, ate no dinner, closed his door to everybody, and, with a lighted lamp, and a loaded pistol on the table, he watchedall night, ruminating upon the means of preventing these lovely crowns, which from the coffers of the king had passed into his coffers, frompassing from his coffers into the pockets of any thief whatever. Thebest means discovered by the Gascon was to inclose his treasure, forthe present, under locks so solid that no wrist could break them, andso complicated that no master-key could open them. D'Artagnan rememberedthat the English are masters in mechanics and conservative industry;and he determined to go in the morning in search of a mechanic who wouldsell him a strong box. He did not go far; Master Will Jobson, dwellingin Piccadilly, listened to his propositions, comprehended his wishes, and promised to make him a safety lock that should relieve him from allfuture fear. 

"I will give you, " said he, "a piece of mechanism entirely new. At thefirst serious attempt upon your lock, an invisible plate will openof itself and vomit forth a pretty copper bullet of the weight of amark--which will knock down the intruder, and not without a loud report. What do you think of it?"

"I think it very ingenious, " cried D'Artagnan, "the little copper bulletpleases me mightily. So now, sir mechanic, the terms?"

"A fortnight for the execution, and fifteen hundred crowns payable ondelivery, " replied the artisan. 

D'Artagnan's brow darkened. A fortnight was delay enough to allow thethieves of London time to remove all occasion for the strong box. Asto the fifteen hundred crowns--that would be paying too dear for what alittle vigilance would procure him for nothing. 

"I will think of it, " said he, "thank you, sir. " And he returned homeat full speed; nobody had yet touched his treasure. That same day Athospaid a visit to his friend and found him so thoughtful that he could nothelp expressing his surprise. 

"How is this?" said he, "you are rich and not gay--you, who were soanxious for wealth!"

"My friend, the pleasures to which we are not accustomed oppress us morethan the griefs with which we are familiar. Give me your opinion, if youplease. I can ask you, who have always had money: when we have money, what do we do with it?"

"That depends. "

"What have you done with yours, seeing that it has not made you a miseror a prodigal? For avarice dries up the heart, and prodigality drownsit--is not that so?"

"Fabricius could not have spoken more justly. But in truth, my money hasnever been a burden to me. "

"How so? Do you place it out at interest?"

"No; you know I have a tolerably handsome house; and that house composesthe better part of my property. "

"I know it does. "

"So that you can be as rich as I am, and, indeed more rich, whenever youlike, by the same means. "

"But your rents, --do you lay them by?"

"What do you think of a chest concealed in a wall?"

"I never made use of such a thing. "

"Then you must have some confidant, some safe man of business who paysyou interest at a fair rate. "

"Not at all. "

"Good heavens! what do you do with it, then?"

"I spend all I have, and I only have what I spend, my dear D'Artagnan. "

"Ah that may be. But you are something of a prince, fifteen or sixteenthousand livres melt away between your fingers; and then you haveexpenses and appearances----"

"Well, I don't see why you should be less of a noble than I am, myfriend; your money would be quite sufficient. "

"Three hundred thousand crowns! Two-thirds too much!"

"I beg your pardon--did you not tell me?--I thought I heard you say--Ifancied you had a partner----"

"Ah! Mordioux! that's true, " cried D'Artagnan, coloring; "there isPlanchet. I had forgotten Planchet, upon my life! Well! there are mythree hundred thousand crowns broken into. That's a pity! it was a roundsum, and sounded well. That is true, Athos; I am no longer rich. What amemory you have!"

"Tolerably good; yes, thank God!"

"The worthy Planchet!" grumbled D'Artagnan; "his was not a bad dream!What a speculation! Peste! Well! what is said is said. "

"How much are you to give him?"

"Oh!" said D'Artagnan, "he is not a bad fellow; I shall arrange matterswith him. I have had a great deal of trouble, you see, and expenses; allthat must be taken into account. "

"My dear friend, I can depend upon you, and have no fear for the worthyPlanchet; his interests are better in your hands than in his own. Butnow that you have nothing more to do here, we shall depart, if youplease. You can go and thank his majesty, ask if he has any commands, and in six days we may be able to get sight of the towers of NotreDame. "

"My friend, I am most anxious to be off, and will go at once and pay myrespects to the king. "

"I, " said Athos, "am going to call upon some friends in the city, andshall then be at your service. "

"Will you lend me Grimaud?"

"With all my heart. What do you want to do with him?"

"Something very simple, and which will not fatigue him; I shall only beghim to take charge of my pistols, which lie there on the table near thatcoffer. "

"Very well!" replied Athos, imperturbably. 

"And he will not stir, will he?"

"Not more than the pistols themselves. "

"Then I shall go and take leave of his majesty. Au revoir!"

D'Artagnan arrived at St. James's, where Charles II. Who was busywriting, kept him in the ante-chamber a full hour. Whilst walking aboutin the gallery, from the door to the window, from the window to thedoor, he thought he saw a cloak like Athos's cross the vestibule; but atthe moment he was going to ascertain if it were he, the usher summonedhim to his majesty's presence. Charles II. Rubbed his hands whilereceiving the thanks of our friend. 

"Chevalier, " said he, "you are wrong to express gratitude to me; I havenot paid you a quarter of the value of the history of the box into whichyou put the brave general--the excellent Duke of Albemarle, I mean. " Andthe king laughed heartily. 

D'Artagnan did not think it proper to interrupt his majesty, and bowedwith much modesty. 

"A propos, " continued Charles, "do you think my dear Monk has reallypardoned you?"

"Pardoned me! yes, I hope so, sire!"

"Eh!--but it was a cruel trick! Odds fish! to pack up the firstpersonage of the English revolution like a herring. In your place Iwould not trust him, chevalier. "

"But, sire----"

"Yes, I know very well that Monk calls you his friend, but he has toopenetrating an eye not to have a memory, and too lofty a brow not to bevery proud, you know grande supercilium. "

"I shall certainly learn Latin, " said D'Artagnan to himself. 

"But stop, " cried the merry monarch, "I must manage your reconciliation;I know how to set about it; so----"

D'Artagnan bit his mustache. "Will your majesty permit me to tell youthe truth?"

"Speak, chevalier, speak. "

"Well, sire, you alarm me greatly. If your majesty undertakes theaffair, as you seem inclined to do, I am a lost man; the duke will haveme assassinated. "

The king burst into a fresh roar of laughter, which changed D'Artagnan'salarm into downright terror. 

"Sire, I beg you to allow me to settle this matter myself, and if yourmajesty has no further need of my services----"

"No, chevalier. What, do you want to leave us?" replied Charles, with ahilarity that grew more and more alarming. 

"If your majesty has no more commands for me. "

Charles became more serious. 

"One single thing. See my sister, the Lady Henrietta. Do you know her?"

"No, sire, but--an old soldier like me is not an agreeable spectacle fora young and gay princess. "

"Ah! but my sister must know you; she must in case of need have you todepend upon. "

"Sire, every one that is dear to your majesty will be sacred to me. "

"Very well!--Parry! Come here, Parry!"

The side door opened and Parry entered, his face beaming with pleasureas soon as he saw D'Artagnan. 

"What is Rochester doing?" said the king. 

"He is on the canal with the ladies, " replied Parry. 

"And Buckingham?"

"He is there also. "

"That is well. You will conduct the chevalier to Villiers; that isthe Duke of Buckingham, chevalier; and beg the duke to introduce M. D'Artagnan to the Princess Henrietta. "

Parry bowed and smiled to D'Artagnan. 

"Chevalier, " continued the king, "this is your parting audience; you canafterwards set out as soon as you please. "

"Sire, I thank you. "

"But be sure you make your peace with Monk!"

"Oh, sire----"

"You know there is one of my vessels at your disposal?"

"Sire, you overpower me; I cannot think of putting your majesty'sofficers to inconvenience on my account. "

The king slapped D'Artagnan upon the shoulder. 

"Nobody will be inconvenienced on your account, chevalier, but for thatof an ambassador I am about sending to France, and to whom you willwillingly serve as a companion, I fancy, for you know him. "

D'Artagnan appeared astonished. 

"He is a certain Comte de la Fere, --whom you call Athos, " added theking, terminating the conversation, as he had begun it, by a joyousburst of laughter. "Adieu, chevalier, adieu. Love me as I love you. " Andthereupon making a sign to Parry to ask if there were any one waitingfor him in the adjoining closet, the king disappeared into that closet, leaving the chevalier perfectly astonished by this singular audience. The old man took his arm in a friendly way, and led him towards thegarden. 

CHAPTER 35. On the Canal

Upon the green waters of the canal bordered with marble, upon which timehad already scattered black spots and tufts of mossy grass, thereglided majestically a long, flat bark adorned with the arms of England, surmounted by a dais, and carpeted with long damasked stuffs, whichtrailed their fringes in the water. Eight rowers, leaning lazily totheir oars, made it move upon the canal with the graceful slowness ofthe swans, which, disturbed in their ancient possessions by the approachof the bark, looked from a distance at this splendid and noisy pageant. We say noisy--for the bark contained four guitar and lute players, twosingers, and several courtiers, all sparkling with gold and preciousstones, and showing their white teeth in emulation of each other, toplease the Lady Henrietta Stuart, grand-daughter of Henry IV. , daughterof Charles I. , and sister of Charles II. , who occupied the seat of honorunder the dais of the bark. We know this young princess, we have seenher at the Louvre with her mother, wanting wood, wanting bread, andfed by the coadjuteur and the parliament. She had, therefore, like herbrothers, passed through an uneasy youth; then, all at once, she hadjust awakened from a long and horrible dream, seated on the steps ofa throne, surrounded by courtiers and flatterers. Like Mary Stuart onleaving prison, she aspired not only to life and liberty, but to powerand wealth. 

The Lady Henrietta, in growing, had attained remarkable beauty, whichthe recent restoration had rendered celebrated. Misfortune had takenfrom her the luster of pride, but prosperity had restored it to her. She was resplendent, then, in her joy and her happiness, --like thosehot-house flowers which, forgotten during a frosty autumn night, havehung their heads, but which on the morrow, warmed once more by theatmosphere in which they were born, rise again with greater splendorthan ever. Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, son of him who played soconspicuous a part in the early chapters of this history, --Villiers ofBuckingham, a handsome cavalier, melancholy with women, a jesterwith men, --and Wilmot, Lord Rochester, a jester with both sexes, were standing at this moment before the Lady Henrietta, disputing theprivilege of making her smile. As to that young and beautiful princess, reclining upon a cushion of velvet bordered with gold, her hands hanginglistlessly so as to dip in the water, she listened carelessly to themusicians without hearing them, and heard the two courtiers withoutappearing to listen to them. 

This Lady Henrietta--this charming creature--this woman who joined thegraces of France to the beauties of England, not having yet loved, wascruel in her coquetry. The smile, then, --that innocent favor of younggirls, --did not even lighten her countenance; and if, at times, she didraise her eyes, it was to fasten them upon one or other of the cavalierswith such a fixity, that their gallantry, bold as it generally was, tookthe alarm, and became timid. 

In the meanwhile the boat continued its course, the musicians made agreat noise, and the courtiers began, like them, to be out of breath. Besides, the excursion became doubtless monotonous to the princess, for all at once, shaking her head with an air of impatience, --"Come, gentlemen, --enough of this;--let us land. "

"Ah, madam, " said Buckingham, "we are very unfortunate! We have notsucceeded in making the excursion agreeable to your royal highness. "

"My mother expects me, " replied the princess; "and I must frankly admit, gentlemen, I am bored. " And whilst uttering this cruel word, Henriettaendeavored to console by a look each of the two young men, who appearedterrified at such frankness. The look produced its effect--the two facesbrightened; but immediately, as if the royal coquette thought she haddone too much for simple mortals, she made a movement, turned her backon both her adorers, and appeared plunged in a reverie in which it wasevident they had no part. 

Buckingham bit his lips with anger, for he was truly in love withLady Henrietta, and, in that case, took everything in a serious light. Rochester bit his lips likewise; but his wit always dominated overhis heart, it was purely and simply to repress a malicious smile. Theprincess was then allowing the eyes she turned from the young nobles towander over the green and flowery turf of the park, when she perceivedParry and D'Artagnan at a distance. 

"Who is coming yonder?" said she. 

The two young men turned round with the rapidity of lightning. 

"Parry, " replied Buckingham, "nobody but Parry. "

"I beg your pardon, " said Rochester, "but I think he has a companion. "

"Yes, " said the princess, at first with languor, but then, --"What meanthose words, 'Nobody but Parry;' say, my lord?"

"Because, madam, " replied Buckingham, piqued, "because the faithfulParry, the wandering Parry, the eternal Parry, is not, I believe, ofmuch consequence. "

"You are mistaken, duke. Parry--the wandering Parry, as you callhim--has always wandered in the service of my family, and the sight ofthat old man always gives me satisfaction. "

The Lady Henrietta followed the usual progress of pretty women, particularly coquettish women; she passed from caprice tocontradiction;--the gallant had undergone the caprice, the courtiermust bend beneath the contradictory humor. Buckingham bowed, but made noreply. 

"It is true, madam, " said Rochester, bowing in his turn, "that Parry isthe model of servants; but, madam, he is no longer young, and we laughonly when we see cheerful objects. Is an old man a gay object?"

"Enough, my lord, " said the princess, coolly; "the subject ofconversation is unpleasant to me. "

Then, as if speaking to herself, "It is really unaccountable, " said she, "how little regard my brother's friends have for his servants. "

"Ah, madam, " cried Buckingham, "your royal highness pierces my heartwith a dagger forged by your own hands. "

"What is the meaning of that speech, which is turned so like a Frenchmadrigal, duke? I do not understand it. "

"It means, madam, that you yourself, so good, so charming, so sensible, you have laughed sometimes--smiled, I should say--at the idle prattle ofthat good Parry, for whom your royal highness to-day entertains such amarvelous susceptibility. "

"Well, my lord, if I have forgotten myself so far, " said Henrietta, "youdo wrong to remind me of it. " And she made a sign of impatience. "Thegood Parry wants to speak to me, I believe: please order them to row tothe shore, my Lord Rochester. "

Rochester hastened to repeat the princess's command; and a moment laterthe boat touched the bank. 

"Let us land, gentlemen, " said Henrietta, taking the arm which Rochesteroffered her, although Buckingham was nearer to her, and had presentedhis. Then Rochester, with an ill-dissembled pride, which pierced theheart of the unhappy Buckingham through and through, led the princessacross the little bridge which the rowers had cast from the royal boatto the shore. 

"Which way will your royal highness go?" asked Rochester. 

"You see, my lord, towards that good Parry, who is wandering, as my lordof Buckingham says, and seeking me with eyes weakened by the tears hehas shed over our misfortunes. "

"Good heavens!" said Rochester, "how sad your royal highness is to-day;in truth we seem ridiculous fools to you, madam. "

"Speak for yourself, my lord, " interrupted Buckingham with vexation;"for my part, I displease her royal highness to such a degree, that Iappear absolutely nothing to her. "

Neither Rochester nor the princess made any reply; Henrietta only urgedher companion more quickly on. Buckingham remained behind, and tookadvantage of this isolation to give himself up to his anger; he bit hishandkerchief so furiously that it was soon in shreds. 

"Parry my good Parry, " said the princess, with her gentle voice, "comehither. I see you are seeking me, and I am waiting for you. "

"Ah, madam, " said Rochester, coming charitably to the help of hiscompanion, who had remained, as we have said, behind, "if Parry cannotsee your royal highness, the man who follows him is a sufficientguide, even for a blind man, for he has eyes of flame. That man is adouble-lamped lantern. "

"Lighting a very handsome martial countenance, " said the princess, determined to be as ill-natured as possible. Rochester bowed. "One ofthose vigorous soldiers' heads seen nowhere but in France, " added theprincess, with the perseverance of a woman sure of impunity. 

Rochester and Buckingham looked at each other, as much as to say, --"Whatcan be the matter with her?"

"See, my lord of Buckingham, what Parry wants, " said Henrietta. "Go!"

The young man, who considered this order as a favor, resumed hiscourage, and hastened to meet Parry, who, followed by D'Artagnan, advanced slowly on account of his age. D'Artagnan walked slowly butnobly, as D'Artagnan, doubled by the third of a million, ought to walk, that is to say, without conceit or swagger, but without timidity. WhenBuckingham, very eager to comply with the desire of the princess, whohad seated herself on a marble bench, as if fatigued with the few stepsshe had gone, --when Buckingham, we say, was at a distance of only a fewpaces from Parry, the latter recognized him. 

"Ah I my lord!" cried he, quite out of breath, "will your grace obey theking?"

"In what, Mr. Parry?" said the young man, with a kind of coolnesstempered by a desire to make himself agreeable to the princess. 

"Well, his majesty begs your grace to present this gentleman to herroyal highness the Princess Henrietta. "

"In the first place, what is the gentleman's name?" said the duke, haughtily. 

D'Artagnan, as we know, was easily affronted, and the Duke ofBuckingham's tone displeased him. He surveyed the courtier from head tofoot, and two flashes beamed from beneath his bent brows. But, aftera struggle, --"Monsieur le Chevalier d'Artagnan, my lord, " replied he, quietly. 

"Pardon me, sir, that name teaches me your name but nothing more. "

"You mean----"

"I mean I do not know you. "

"I am more fortunate than you, sir, " replied D'Artagnan, "for I havehad the honor of knowing your family, and particularly my lord Duke ofBuckingham, your illustrious father. "

"My father?" said Buckingham. "Well, I think I now remember. Monsieur leChevalier d'Artagnan, do you say?"

D'Artagnan bowed. "In person, " said he. 

"Pardon me, but are you one of those Frenchmen who had secret relationswith my father?"

"Exactly, my lord duke, I am one of those Frenchmen. "

"Then, sir, permit me to say that it was strange my father never heardof you during his lifetime. "

"No, monsieur, but he heard of me at the moment of his death: it was Iwho sent to him, through the hands of the valet de chambre of Anne ofAustria, notice of the dangers which threatened him; unfortunately, itcame too late. "

"Never mind, monsieur, " said Buckingham. "I understand now, that, havinghad the intention of rendering a service to the father, you have come toclaim the protection of the son. "

"In the first place, my lord, " replied D'Artagnan, phlegmatically, "Iclaim the protection of no man. His majesty Charles II. , to whom I havehad the honor of rendering some services--I may tell you, my lord, mylife has been passed in such occupations--King Charles II. , then, whowishes to honor me with some kindness, desires me to be presented toher royal highness the Princess Henrietta, his sister, to whom I shall, perhaps, have the good fortune to be of service hereafter. Now, the kingknew that you at this moment were with her royal highness, and sent meto you. There is no other mystery, I ask absolutely nothing of you; andif you will not present me to her royal highness, I shall be compelledto do without you, and present myself. "

"At least, sir, " said Buckingham, determined to have the last word, "youwill not refuse me an explanation provoked by yourself. "

"I never refuse, my lord, " said D'Artagnan. 

"As you have had relations with my father, you must be acquainted withsome private details?"

"These relations are already far removed from us, my lord--for you werenot then born--and for some unfortunate diamond studs, which I receivedfrom his hands and carried back to France, it is really not worth whileawakening so many remembrances. "

"Ah! sir, " said Buckingham, warmly, going up to D'Artagnan, and holdingout his hand to him, "it is you, then--you whom my father soughteverywhere and who had a right to expect so much from us. "

"To expect, my lord, in truth, that is my forte; all my life I haveexpected. "

At this moment, the princess, who was tired of not seeing the strangerapproach her, arose and came towards them. 

"At least, sir, " said Buckingham, "you shall not wait for thepresentation you claim of me. "

Then turning toward the princess and bowing: "Madam, " said the youngman, "the king, your brother, desires me to have the honor of presentingto your royal highness, Monsieur le Chevalier d'Artagnan. "

"In order that your royal highness may have, in case of need, a firmsupport and a sure friend, " added Parry. D'Artagnan bowed. 

"You have still something to say, Parry, " replied Henrietta, smilingupon D'Artagnan, while addressing the old servant. 

"Yes, madam, the king desires you to preserve religiously in your memorythe name and merit of M. D'Artagnan, to whom his majesty owes, he says, the recovery of his kingdom. " Buckingham, the princess, and Rochesterlooked at each other. 

"That, " said D'Artagnan, "is another little secret, of which, in allprobability, I shall not boast to his majesty's son, as I have done toyou with respect to the diamond studs. "

"Madam, " said Buckingham, "monsieur has just, for the second time, recalled to my memory an event which excites my curiosity to such adegree, that I shall venture to ask your permission to take him to oneside for a moment, to converse in private. "

"Do, my lord, " said the princess, "but restore to the sister, as quicklyas possible, this friend so devoted to the brother. " And she took thearm of Rochester whilst Buckingham took that of D'Artagnan. 

"Oh! tell me, chevalier, " said Buckingham, "all that affair of thediamonds, which nobody knows in England, not even the son of him who wasthe hero of it. "

"My lord, one person alone had a right to relate all that affair, asyou call it, and that was your father; he thought proper to be silent. Imust beg you to allow me to be so likewise. " And D'Artagnan bowed like aman upon whom it was evident no entreaties could prevail. 

"Since it is so, sir, " said Buckingham, "pardon my indiscretion, I begyou; and if, at any time, I should go into France----" and he turnedround to take a last look at the princess, who took but little noticeof him, totally occupied as she was, or appeared to be, with Rochester. Buckingham sighed. 

"Well?" said D'Artagnan. 

"I was saying that if, any day, I were to go to France----"

"You will go, my lord, " said D'Artagnan. "I shall answer for that. "

"And how so?"

"Oh, I have strange powers of prediction; if I do predict anything I amseldom mistaken. If, then, you do come to France?"

"Well, then, monsieur, you, of whom kings ask that valuable friendshipwhich restores crowns to them, I will venture to beg of you a little ofthat great interest you took in my father. "

"My lord, " replied D'Artagnan, "believe me, I shall deem myself highlyhonored if, in France, you remember having seen me here. And nowpermit----"

Then, turning towards the princess: "Madam, " said he, "your royalhighness is a daughter of France; and in that quality I hope to see youagain in Paris. One of my happy days will be that on which your royalhighness shall give me any command whatever, thus proving to me that youhave not forgotten the recommendations of your august brother. " And hebowed respectfully to the young princess, who gave him her hand to kisswith a right royal grace. 

"Ah! madam, " said Buckingham, in a subdued voice, "what can a man do toobtain a similar favor from your royal highness?"

"Dame! my lord, " replied Henrietta, "ask Monsieur d'Artagnan; he willtell you. "

CHAPTER 36. How D'Artagnan drew, as a Fairy would have done, aCountry-seat from a Deal Box

The king's words regarding the wounded pride of Monk had not inspiredD'Artagnan with a small portion of apprehension. The lieutenant had had, all his life, the great art of choosing his enemies; and when he hadfound them implacable and invincible, it was when he had not been able, under any pretense, to make them otherwise. But points of view changegreatly in the course of a life. It is a magic lantern, of which the eyeof man every year changes the aspects. It results that from the last dayof a year on which we saw white, to the first day of the year on whichwe shall see black, there is but the interval of a single night. 

Now, D'Artagnan, when he left Calais with his ten scamps, would havehesitated as little in attacking a Goliath, a Nebuchadnezzar, or aHolofernes as he would in crossing swords with a recruit or cavilingwith a landlady. Then he resembled the sparrow-hawk which, when fasting, will attack a ram. Hunger is blind. But D'Artagnan satisfied--D'Artagnanrich--D'Artagnan a conqueror--D'Artagnan proud of so difficult atriumph--D'Artagnan had too much to lose not to reckon, figure byfigure, with probable misfortune. 

His thoughts were employed, therefore, all the way on the road from hispresentation, with one thing, and that was, how he should conciliate aman like Monk, a man whom Charles himself, kind as he was, conciliatedwith difficulty; for, scarcely established, the protected might againstand in need of the protector, and would, consequently, not refusehim, such being the case, the petty satisfaction of transporting M. D'Artagnan, or of confining him in one of the Middlesex prisons, ordrowning him a little on his passage from Dover to Boulogne. Such sortsof satisfaction kings are accustomed to render to viceroys withoutdisagreeable consequences. 

It would not be at all necessary for the king to be active in thatcontrepartie of the play in which Monk should take his revenge. The partof the king would be confined to simply pardoning the viceroy of Irelandall he should undertake against D'Artagnan. Nothing more was necessaryto place the conscience of the Duke of Albemarle at rest than a teabsolvo said with a laugh, or the scrawl of "Charles the King, " tracedat the foot of a parchment; and with these two words pronounced, andthese two words written, poor D'Artagnan was forever crushed beneath theruins of his imagination. 

And then, a thing sufficiently disquieting for a man with such foresightas our musketeer, he found himself alone; and even the friendship ofAthos could not restore his confidence. Certainly if the affair had onlyconcerned a free distribution of sword-thrusts, the musketeer would havecounted upon his companion; but in delicate dealings with a king, whenthe perhaps of an unlucky chance should arise in justification of Monkor of Charles of England, D'Artagnan knew Athos well enough to be surehe would give the best possible coloring to the loyalty of the survivor, and would content himself with shedding floods of tears on the tomb ofthe dead, supposing the dead to be his friend, and afterwards composinghis epitaph in the most pompous superlatives. 

"Decidedly, " thought the Gascon; and this thought was the result of thereflections which he had just whispered to himself and which we haverepeated aloud--"decidedly, I must be reconciled with M. Monk, andacquire a proof of his perfect indifference for the past. If, and Godforbid it should be so! he is still sulky and reserved in the expressionof this sentiment, I shall give my money to Athos to take away with him, and remain in England just long enough to unmask him, then, as I havea quick eye and a light foot, I shall notice the first hostile sign; todecamp or conceal myself at the residence of my lord of Buckingham, whoseems a good sort of devil at the bottom, and to whom, in return for hishospitality, I shall relate all that history of the diamonds, which cannow compromise nobody but an old queen, who need not be ashamed, afterbeing the wife of a miserly creature like Mazarin, of having formerlybeen the mistress of a handsome nobleman like Buckingham. Mordioux!that is the thing, and this Monk shall not get the better of me. Eh? andbesides I have an idea!"

We know that, in general, D'Artagnan was not wanting in ideas; andduring this soliloquy, D'Artagnan buttoned his vest up to the chin, andnothing excited his imagination like this preparation for a combat ofany kind, called accinction by the Romans. He was quite heated when hereached the mansion of the Duke of Albemarle. He was introduced to theviceroy with a promptitude which proved that he was considered as one ofthe household. Monk was in his business-closet. 

"My lord, " said D'Artagnan, with that expression of frankness which theGascon knew so well how to assume, "my lord, I have come to ask yourgrace's advice!"

Monk, as closely buttoned up morally as his antagonist was physically, replied: "Ask, my friend;" and his countenance presented an expressionnot less open than that of D'Artagnan. 

"My lord, in the first place, promise me secrecy and indulgence. "

"I promise you all you wish. What is the matter? Speak!"

"It is, my lord, that I am not quite pleased with the king. "

"Indeed! And on what account, my dear lieutenant?"

"Because his majesty gives way sometimes to jest very compromising forhis servants; and jesting, my lord, is a weapon that seriously woundsmen of the sword, as we are. "

Monk did all in his power not to betray his thought, but D'Artagnanwatched him with too close an attention not to detect an almostimperceptible flush upon his face. "Well, now, for my part, " said he, with the most natural air possible, "I am not an enemy of jesting, mydear Monsieur d'Artagnan; my soldiers will tell you that even many timesin camp, I listened very indifferently, and with a certain pleasure, to the satirical songs which the army of Lambert passed into mine, and which, certainly, would have caused the ears of a general moresusceptible than I am to tingle. "

"Oh, my lord, " said D'Artagnan, "I know you are a complete man; I knowyou have been, for a long time placed above human miseries; butthere are jests and jests of a certain kind, which have the power ofirritating me beyond expression. "

"May I inquire what kind, my friend?"

"Such as are directed against my friends or against people I respect, mylord!"

Monk made a slight movement, which D'Artagnan perceived. "Eh! and inwhat, " asked Monk, "in what can the stroke of a pin which scratchesanother tickle your skin? Answer me that. "

"My lord, I can explain it to you in one single sentence; it concernsyou. "

Monk advanced a single step towards D'Artagnan. "Concerns me?" said he. 

"Yes, and this is what I cannot explain; but that arises, perhaps, frommy want of knowledge of his character. How can the king have theheart to jest about a man who has rendered him so many and such greatservices? How can one understand that he should amuse himself in settingby the ears a lion like you with a gnat like me?"

"I cannot conceive that in any way, " said Monk. 

"But so it is. The king, who owed me a reward, might have rewarded me asa soldier, without contriving that history of the ransom, which affectsyou, my lord. "

"No, " said Monk, laughing: "it does not affect me in any way, I canassure you. "

"Not as regards me, I can understand, you know me, my lord, I am sodiscreet that the grave would appear a babbler compared to me; but--doyou understand, my lord?"

"No, " replied Monk, with persistent obstinacy. 

"If another knew the secret which I know----"

"What secret?"

"Eh! my lord, why, that unfortunate secret of Newcastle. "

"Oh! the million of M. Le Comte de la Fere?"

"No, my lord, no; the enterprise made upon you grace's person. "

"It was well played, chevalier, that is all, and no more is to be saidabout it: you are a soldier, both brave and cunning, which proves thatyou unite the qualities of Fabius and Hannibal. You employed your means, force and cunning: there is nothing to be said against that: I ought tohave been on guard. "

"Ah! yes; I know, my lord, and I expected nothing less from yourpartiality; so that if it were only the abduction in itself, Mordieux!that would be nothing; but there are----"

"What?"

"The circumstances of that abduction. "

"What circumstances?"

"Oh! you know very well what I mean, my lord. "

"No, curse me if I do. "

"There is--in truth, it is difficult to speak it. "

"There is?"

"Well, there is that devil of a box!"

Monk colored visibly. "Well, I have forgotten it. "

"Deal box, " continued D'Artagnan, "with holes for the nose and mouth. In truth, my lord, all the rest was well; but the box, the box! thatwas really a coarse joke. " Monk fidgeted about in his chair. "And, notwithstanding my having done that, " resumed D'Artagnan, "I, a soldierof fortune, it was quite simple, because by the side of that action, alittle inconsiderate I admit, which I committed, but which the gravityof the case may excuse, I am circumspect and reserved. "

"Oh!" said Monk, "believe me, I know you well, Monsieur d'Artagnan, andI appreciate you. "

D'Artagnan never took his eyes off Monk; studying all which passed inthe mind of the general, as he prosecuted his idea. "But it does notconcern me, " resumed he. 

"Well, then, whom does it concern?" said Monk, who began to grow alittle impatient. 

"It relates to the king, who will never restrain his tongue. "

"Well! and suppose he should say all he knows?" said Monk, with a degreeof hesitation. 

"My lord, " replied D'Artagnan, "do not dissemble, I implore you, witha man who speaks so frankly as I do. You have a right to feel yoursusceptibility excited, however benignant it may be. What, the devil!it is not the place for a man like you, a man who plays with crowns andscepters as a Bohemian plays with his balls; it is not the place of aserious man, I said, to be shut up in a box like some freak of naturalhistory; for you must understand it would make all your enemies ready toburst with laughter, and you are so great, so noble, so generous, thatyou must have many enemies. This secret is enough to set half the humanrace laughing, if you were represented in that box. It is not decent tohave the second personage in the kingdom laughed at. "

Monk was quite out of countenance at the idea of seeing himselfrepresented in his box. Ridicule, as D'Artagnan had judiciouslyforeseen, acted upon him in a manner which neither the chances of war, the aspirations of ambition, nor the fear of death had been able to do. 

"Good, " thought the Gascon, "he is frightened: I am safe. "

"Oh! as to the king, " said Monk, "fear nothing, my dear Monsieurd'Artagnan; the king will not jest with Monk, I assure you!"

The momentary flash of his eye was noticed by D'Artagnan. Monk loweredhis tone immediately: "The king, " continued he, "is of too noble anature, the king's heart is too high to allow him to wish ill to thosewho do him good. "

"Oh! certainly, " cried D'Artagnan. "I am entirely of your grace'sopinion with regard to his heart, but not as to his head--it is good, but it is trifling. "

"The king will not trifle with Monk, be assured. "

"Then you are quite at ease, my lord?"

"On that side, at least! yes, perfectly. "

"Oh! I understand you; you are at ease as far as the king is concerned?"

"I have told you I was. "

"But you are not so much so on my account?"

"I thought I had told you that I had faith in your loyalty anddiscretion. "

"No doubt, no doubt, but you must remember one thing----"

"What is that?"

"That I was not alone, that I had companions; and what companions!"

"Oh! yes, I know them. "

"And, unfortunately, my lord, they know you, too!"

"Well?"

"Well; they are yonder, at Boulogne, waiting for me. "

"And you fear----"

"Yes, I fear that in my absence--Parbleu! If I were near them, I couldanswer for their silence. "

"Was I not right in saying that the danger, if there was any danger, would not come from his majesty, however disposed he may be to jest, but from your companions, as you say? To be laughed at by a king may betolerable, but by the horse-boys and scamps of the army! Damn it!"

"Yes, I understand, that would be unbearable, that is why, my lord, Icame to say, --do you not think it would be better for me to set out forFrance as soon as possible?"

"Certainly, if you think your presence----"

"Would impose silence upon these scoundrels? Oh! I am sure of that, mylord. "

"Your presence will not prevent the report from spreading, if the talehas already transpired. "

"Oh! it has not transpired, my lord, I will wager. At all events, beassured I am determined upon one thing. "

"What is that?"

"To blow out the brains of the first who shall have propagated thatreport, and of the first who has heard it. After which I shall return toEngland to seek an asylum, and perhaps employment with your grace. "

"Oh, come back! come back!"

"Unfortunately, my lord, I am acquainted with nobody here but yourgrace, and if I should no longer find you, or if you should haveforgotten me in your greatness?"

"Listen to me, Monsieur d'Artagnan, " replied Monk; "you are a superiorman, full of intelligence and courage; you deserve all the good fortunethis world can bring you; come with me into Scotland, and, I swear toyou, I shall arrange for you a fate which all may envy. "

"Oh! my lord, that is impossible. At present I have a sacred duty toperform; I have to watch over your glory, I have to prevent a low jesterfrom tarnishing in the eyes of our contemporaries--who knows? in theeyes of posterity--the splendor of your name. "

"Of posterity, Monsieur d'Artagnan?"

"Doubtless. It is necessary, as regards posterity, that all thedetails of that history should remain a mystery; for, admit that thisunfortunate history of the deal box should spread, and it should beasserted that you had not re-established the king loyally, and ofyour own free will, but in consequence of a compromise entered into atScheveningen between you two. It would be vain for me to declare how thething came about, for though I know I should not be believed, it wouldbe said that I had received my part of the cake, and was eating it. "

Monk knitted his brow. --"Glory, honor, probity!" said he, "you are butempty words. "

"Mist!" replied D'Artagnan; "nothing but mist, through which nobody cansee clearly. "

"Well, then, go to France, my dear Monsieur d'Artagnan, " said Monk; "go, and to render England more attractive and agreeable to you, accept aremembrance of me. 

"What now?" thought D'Artagnan. 

"I have on the banks of the Clyde, " continued Monk, "a little house ina grove, cottage as it is called here. To this house are attached ahundred acres of land. Accept it as a souvenir. "

"Oh my lord!----"

"Faith! you will be there in your own home, and that will be the placeof refuge you spoke of just now. "

"For me to be obliged to your lordship to such an extent! Really, yourgrace, I am ashamed. "

"Not at all, not at all, monsieur, " replied Monk, with an arch smile;"it is I who shall be obliged to you. And, " pressing the hand of themusketeer, "I shall go and draw up the deed of gift, "--and he left theroom. 

D'Artagnan looked at him as he went out with something of a pensive andeven an agitated air. 

"After all, " said he, "he is a brave man. It is only a sad reflectionthat it is from fear of me, and not affection that he acts thus. Well, I shall endeavor that affection may follow. " Then, after an instant'sdeeper reflection, --"Bah!" said he, "to what purpose? He is anEnglishman. " And he in his turn went out, a little confused after thecombat. 

"So, " said he, "I am a land-owner! But how the devil am I to sharethe cottage with Planchet? Unless I give him the land, and I take thechateau, or that he takes the house and I--nonsense! M. Monk will neverallow me to share a house he has inhabited, with a grocer. He is tooproud for that. Besides, why should I say anything about it to him? Itwas not with the money of the company I have acquired that property, itwas with my mother-wit alone; it is all mine, then. So, now I will goand find Athos. " And he directed his steps towards the dwelling of theComte de la Fere

CHAPTER 37. How D'Artagnan regulated the "Assets" of the Company beforehe established its "Liabilities"

"Decidedly, " said D'Artagnan to himself, "I have struck a good vein. That star which shines once in the life of every man, which shone forJob and Iris, the most unfortunate of the Jews and the poorest of theGreeks, is come at last to shine on me. I will commit no folly, I willtake advantage of it; it comes quite late enough to find me reasonable. "

He supped that evening, in very good humor, with his friend Athos;he said nothing to him about the expected donation, but he could notforbear questioning his friend, while eating, about country produce, sowing, and planting. Athos replied complacently, as he always did. Hisidea was that D'Artagnan wished to become a land-owner, only he couldnot help regretting, more than once, the absence of the lively humorand amusing sallies of the cheerful companion of former days. In fact, D'Artagnan was so absorbed, that, with his knife, he took advantage ofthe grease left at the bottom of his plate, to trace ciphers and makeadditions of surprising rotundity. 

The order, or rather license, for their embarkation, arrived at Athos'slodgings that evening. While this paper was remitted to the comte, another messenger brought to D'Artagnan a little bundle of parchments, adorned with all the seals employed in setting off property deeds inEngland. Athos surprised him turning over the leaves of these differentacts which establish the transmission of property. The prudentMonk--others would say the generous Monk--had commuted the donationinto a sale, and acknowledged the receipt of the sum of fifteen thousandcrowns as the price of the property ceded. The messenger was gone. D'Artagnan still continued reading, Athos watched him with a smile. D'Artagnan, surprising one of those smiles over his shoulder, put thebundle in its wrapper. 

"I beg your pardon, " said Athos. 

"Oh! not at all, my friend, " replied the lieutenant, "I shall tellyou----"

"No, don't tell me anything, I beg you; orders are things so sacred, that to one's brother, one's father, the person charged with such ordersshould never open his mouth. Thus I, who speak to you, and love you moretenderly than brother, father, or all the world----"

"Except your Raoul?"

"I shall love Raoul still better when he shall be a man, and I shallhave seen him develop himself in all the phases of his character and hisactions--as I have seen you, my friend. "

"You said, then, that you had an order likewise, and that you would notcommunicate it to me. "

"Yes, my dear D'Artagnan. "

The Gascon sighed. "There was a time, " said he, "when you would haveplaced that order open upon the table, saying, 'D'Artagnan, read thisscrawl to Porthos, Aramis, and to me. '"

"That is true. Oh! that was the time of youth, confidence, the generousseason when the blood commands, when it is warmed by feeling!"

"Well! Athos, will you allow me to tell you?"

"Speak, my friend!"

"That delightful time, that generous season, that ruling by warm blood, were all very fine things, no doubt; but I do not regret them at all. It is absolutely like the period of studies. I have constantly met withfools who would boast of the days of pensums, ferules and crusts of drybread. It is singular, but I never loved all that; for my part, howeveractive and sober I might be (you know if I was so, Athos), howeversimple I might appear in my clothes, I would not the less have preferredthe braveries and embroideries of Porthos to my little perforatedcassock, which gave passage to the wind in winter and the sun in summer. I should always, my friend, mistrust him who would pretend to preferevil to good. Now, in times past all went wrong with me, and every monthfound a fresh hole in my cassock and in my skin, a gold crown less in mypoor purse; of that execrable time of small beer and see-saw, I regretabsolutely nothing, nothing, nothing save our friendship; for within meI have a heart, and it is a miracle that heart has not been dried upby the wind of poverty which passed through the holes of my cloak, orpierced by the swords of all shapes which passed through the holes in mypoor flesh. "

"Do not regret our friendship, " said Athos, "that will only die withourselves. Friendship is composed, above all things, of memories andhabits, and if you have just now made a little satire upon mine, becauseI hesitate to tell you the nature of my mission into France----"

"Who! I?--Oh! heavens! if you knew, my dear friend, how indifferent allthe missions of the world will henceforth become to me!" And he laid hishand upon the parchment in his vest pocket. 

Athos rose from the table and called the host in order to pay thereckoning. 

"Since I have known you, my friend, " said D'Artagnan, "I have neverdischarged the reckoning. Porthos often did, Aramis sometimes, and you, you almost always drew out your purse with the dessert. I am now richand should like to try if it is heroic to pay. "

"Do so, " said Athos; returning his purse to his pocket. 

The two friends then directed their steps towards the port, not, however, without D'Artagnan's frequently turning round to watch thetransportation of his dear crowns. Night had just spread her thick veilover the yellow waters of the Thames; they heard those noises of casksand pulleys, the preliminaries of preparing to sail which had so manytimes made the hearts of the musketeers beat when the dangers of the seawere the least of those they were going to face. This time they wereto embark on board a large vessel which awaited them at Gravesend, and Charles II. , always delicate in small matters, had sent one ofhis yachts, with twelve men of his Scotch guard, to do honor to theambassador he was sending to France. At midnight the yacht had depositedits passengers on board the vessel, and at eight o'clock in themorning, the vessel landed the ambassador and his friend on the wharf atBoulogne. Whilst the comte, with Grimaud, was busy procuring horsesto go straight to Paris, D'Artagnan hastened to the hostelry where, according to his orders, his little army was to wait for him. Thesegentlemen were at breakfast upon oysters, fish, and spiced brandy, whenD'Artagnan appeared. They were all very gay, but not one of them hadyet exceeded the bounds of reason. A hurrah of joy welcomed the general. "Here I am, " said D'Artagnan, "the campaign is ended. I am come to bringto each his supplement of pay, as agreed upon. " Their eyes sparkled. "I will lay a wager there are not, at this moment, a hundred crownsremaining in the purse of the richest among you. "

"That is true, " cried they in chorus. 

"Gentlemen, " said D'Artagnan, "then, this is the last order. The treatyof commerce has been concluded thanks to our coup-de-main which madeus masters of the most skillful financier of England, for now I amat liberty to confess to you that the man we had to carry off was thetreasurer of General Monk. "

This word treasurer produced a certain effect on his army. D'Artagnanobserved that the eyes of Menneville alone did not evince perfect faith. "This treasurer, " he continued, "I conveyed to a neutral territory, Holland; I forced him to sign the treaty; I have even reconducted himto Newcastle, and as he was obliged to be satisfied with our proceedingstowards him--the deal coffer being always carried without jolting, andbeing lined softly, I asked for a gratification for you. Here it is. " Hethrew a respectable-looking purse upon the cloth; and all involuntarilystretched out their hands. "One moment, my lambs, " said D'Artagnan; "ifthere are profits, there are also charges. "

"Oh! oh!" murmured they. 

"We are about to find ourselves, my friends, in a position that wouldnot be tenable for people without brains. I speak plainly: we arebetween the gallows and the Bastile. "

"Oh! oh!" said the chorus. 

"That is easily understood. It was necessary to explain to General Monkthe disappearance of his treasurer. I waited, for that purpose, till thevery unhopedfor moment of the restoration of King Charles II. , who isone of my friends. "

The army exchanged a glance of satisfaction in reply to the sufficientlyproud look of D'Artagnan. "The king being restored, I restored to Monkhis man of business, a little plucked, it is true, but, in short, I restored him. Now, General Monk, when he pardoned me, for he haspardoned me, could not help repeating these words to me, which I chargeevery one of you to engrave deeply there, between the eyes, under thevault of the cranium:--'Monsieur, the joke has been a good one, but Idon't naturally like jokes; if ever a word of what you have done' (youunderstand me, Menneville) 'escapes from your lips, or the lips of yourcompanions, I have, in my government of Scotland and Ireland, sevenhundred and forty-one wooden gibbets, of strong oak, clamped with iron, and freshly greased every week. I will make a present of one of thesegibbets to each of you, and observe well, M. D'Artagnan, ' added he(observe it also, M. Menneville), 'I shall still have seven hundred andthirty left for my private pleasure. And still further----'"

"Ah! ah!" said the auxiliaries, "is there more still?"

"A mere trifle. 'Monsieur d'Artagnan, I send to the king of France thetreaty in question, with a request that he will cast into the Bastileprovisionally, and then send to me, all who have taken part in thisexpedition; and that is a prayer with which the king will certainlycomply. '"

A cry of terror broke from all corners of the table. 

"There! there! there, " said D'Artagnan, "this brave M. Monk hasforgotten one thing, and that is he does not know the name of any one ofyou, I alone know you, and it is not I, you may well believe, who willbetray you. Why should I? As for you--I cannot suppose you will be sillyenough to denounce yourselves, for then the king, to spare himself theexpense of feeding and lodging you, will send you off to Scotland, wherethe seven hundred and forty-one gibbets are to be found. That is all, messieurs; I have not another word to add to what I have had the honorto tell you. I am sure you have understood me perfectly well, have younot, M. Menneville?"

"Perfectly, " replied the latter. 

"Now the crowns!" said D'Artagnan. "Shut the doors, " he cried, andopened the bag upon the table, from which rolled several fine goldcrowns. Every one made a movement towards the floor. 

"Gently!" cried D'Artagnan. "Let no one stoop, and then I shall notbe out in my reckoning. " He found it all right, gave fifty of thosesplendid crowns to each man, and received as many benedictions as hebestowed pieces. "Now, " said he, "if it were possible for you to reforma little, if you could become good and honest citizens----"

"That is rather difficult, " said one of the troop. 

"What then, captain?" said another. 

"Because I might be able to find you again, and, who knows what othergood fortune?" He made a sign to Menneville, who listened to all hesaid with a composed air. "Menneville, " said he, "come with me. Adieu mybrave fellows! I need not warn you to be discreet. "

Menneville followed him, whilst the salutations of the auxiliaries weremingled with the sweet sound of the money clinking in their pockets. 

"Menneville, " said D'Artagnan, when they were once in the street, "youwere not my dupe; beware of being so. You did not appear to me to haveany fear of the gibbets of Monk, or the Bastile of his majesty, KingLouis XIV. , but you will do me the favor of being afraid of me. Thenlisten at the smallest word that shall escape you, I will kill you asI would a fowl. I have absolution from our holy father, the pope, in mypocket. "

"I assure you I know absolutely nothing, my dear M. D'Artagnan, and thatyour words have all been to me so many articles of faith. "

"I was quite sure you were an intelligent fellow, " said the musketeer;"I have tried you for a length of time. These fifty gold crowns whichI give you above the rest will prove the esteem I have for you. Takethem. "

"Thanks, Monsieur d'Artagnan, " said Menneville. 

"With that sum you can really become an honest man, " replied D'Artagnan, in the most serious tone possible. "It would be disgraceful for a mindlike yours, and a name you no longer dare to bear, to sink forever underthe rust of an evil life. Become a gallant man, Menneville, and live fora year upon those hundred gold crowns: it is a good provision; twice thepay of a high officer. In a year come to me, and, Mordioux! I will makesomething of you. "

Menneville swore, as his comrades had sworn, that he would be as silentas the grave. And yet some one must have spoken; and as, certainly, itwas not one of the nine companions, and quite as certainly, it wasnot Menneville, it must have been D'Artagnan, who, in his quality of aGascon, had his tongue very near to his lips. For, in short, if it werenot he, who could it be? And how can it be explained that the secret ofthe deal coffer pierced with holes should come to our knowledge, andin so complete a fashion that we have, as has been seen, related thehistory of it in all its most minute details; details which, besides, throw a light as new as unexpected upon all that portion of the historyof England which has been left, up to the present day, completely indarkness by the historian of our neighbors?

CHAPTER 38. In which it is seen that the French Grocer had already beenestablished in the Seventeenth Century

His accounts once settled, and his recommendations made, D'Artagnanthought of nothing but returning to Paris as soon as possible. Athos, onhis part, was anxious to reach home and to rest a little. However wholethe character and the man may remain after the fatigues of a voyage, thetraveler perceives with pleasure, at the close of the day--even thoughthe day has been a fine one--that night is approaching, and will bringa little sleep with it. So, from Boulogne to Paris, jogging on, side byside, the two friends, in some degree absorbed each in his individualthoughts, conversed of nothing sufficiently interesting for us to repeatto our readers. Each of them given up to his personal reflections, andconstructing his future after his own fashion, was, above all, anxiousto abridge the distance by speed. Athos and D'Artagnan arrived at thegates of Paris on the evening of the fourth day after leaving Boulogne. 

"Where are you going, my friend?" asked Athos. "I shall direct my coursestraight to my hotel. "

"And I straight to my partner's. "

"To Planchet's?"

"Yes; at the Pilon d'Or. "

"Well, but shall we not meet again?"

"If you remain in Paris, yes, for I shall stay here. "

"No: after having embraced Raoul, with whom I have appointed a meetingat my hotel, I shall set out immediately for La Fere. "

"Well, adieu, then, dear and true friend. "

"Au revoir! I should rather say, for why can you not come and live withme at Blois? You are free, you are rich, I shall purchase for you, ifyou like, a handsome estate in the vicinity of Chiverny or of Bracieux. On the one side you will have the finest woods in the world, whichjoin those of Chambord; on the other, admirable marshes. You who lovesporting, and who, whether you admit it or not, are a poet, my dearfriend, you will find pheasants, rail and teal, without counting sunsetsand excursions on the water, to make you fancy yourself Nimrod andApollo themselves. While awaiting the purchase, you can live at La Fere, and we shall go together to fly our hawks among the vines, as LouisXIII. Used to do. That is a quiet amusement for old fellows like us. "

D'Artagnan took the hands of Athos in his own. "Dear count, " said he, "I shall say neither 'Yes' nor 'No. ' Let me pass in Paris the timenecessary for the regulation of my affairs, and accustom myself, bydegrees, to the heavy and glittering idea which is beating in my brainand dazzles me. I am rich, you see, and from this moment until the timewhen I shall have acquired the habit of being rich, I know myself, and Ishall be an insupportable animal. Now, I am not enough of a fool towish to appear to have lost my wits before a friend like you, Athos. Thecloak is handsome, the cloak is richly gilded, but it is new, and doesnot seem to fit me. "

Athos smiled. "So be it, " said he. "But a propos of this cloak, dearD'Artagnan, will you allow me to offer you a little advice?"

"Yes, willingly. "

"You will not be angry?"

"Proceed. "

"When wealth comes to a man late in life or all at once, that man, inorder not to change, must most likely become a miser--that is to say, not spend much more money than he had done before; or else become aprodigal, and contract so many debts as to become poor again. "

"Oh! but what you say looks very much like a sophism, my dearphilosophic friend. "

"I do not think so. Will you become a miser?"

"No, pardieu! I was one already, having nothing. Let us change. "

"Then be prodigal. "

"Still less, Mordioux! Debts terrify me. Creditors appear to me, byanticipation like those devils who turn the damned upon the gridirons, and as patience is not my dominant virtue, I am always tempted to thrashthose devils. "

"You are the wisest man I know, and stand in no need of advice from anyone. Great fools must they be who think they have anything to teach you. But are we not at the Rue Saint Honore?"

"Yes, dear Athos. "

"Look yonder, on the left, that small, long white house is the hotelwhere I lodge. You may observe that it has but two stories; I occupythe first; the other is let to an officer whose duties oblige him to beabsent eight or nine months in the year, --so I am in that house as in myown home, without the expense. "

"Oh! how well you manage, Athos! What order and what liberality! Theyare what I wish to unite! But, of what use trying! that comes frombirth, and cannot be acquired. "

"You are a flatterer! Well! adieu, dear friend. A propos, remember me toMaster Planchet; he was always a bright fellow. "

"And a man of heart, too, Athos. Adieu. "

And they separated. During all this conversation, D'Artagnan had not fora moment lost sight of a certain pack-horse, in whose panniers, under some hay, were spread the sacoches (messenger's bags) with theportmanteau. Nine o'clock was striking at Saint-Merri. Planchet's helpswere shutting up his shop. D'Artagnan stopped the postilion who rode thepack-horse, at the corner of the Rue des Lombards, under a penthouse, and calling one of Planchet's boys, he desired him not only to take careof the two horses, but to watch the postilion; after which he enteredthe shop of the grocer, who had just finished supper, and who, in hislittle private room, was, with a degree of anxiety, consulting thecalendar, on which, every evening, he scratched out the day that waspast. At the moment when Planchet, according to his daily custom, withthe back of his pen, erased another day, D'Artagnan kicked the doorwith his foot, and the blow made his steel spur jingle. "Oh! goodLord!" cried Planchet. The worthy grocer could say no more; he had justperceived his partner. D'Artagnan entered with a bent back and a dulleye: the Gascon had an idea with regard to Planchet. 

"Good God!" thought the grocer, looking earnestly at the traveler, "helooks sad!" The musketeer sat down. 

"My dear Monsieur d'Artagnan!" said Planchet, with a horriblepalpitation of the heart. "Here you are! and your health?"

"Tolerably good, Planchet, tolerably good!" said D'Artagnan, with aprofound sigh. 

"You have not been wounded, I hope?"

"Phew!"

"Ah, I see, " continued Planchet, more and more alarmed, "the expeditionhas been a trying one?"

"Yes, " said D'Artagnan. A shudder ran down Planchet's back. "I shouldlike to have something to drink, " said the musketeer, raising his headpiteously. 

Planchet ran to the cupboard, and poured out to D'Artagnan some wine ina large glass. D'Artagnan examined the bottle. 

"What wine is that?" asked he. 

"Alas! that which you prefer, monsieur, " said Planchet; "that good oldAnjou wine, which was one day nearly costing us all so dear. "

"Ah!" replied D'Artagnan, with a melancholy smile, "Ah! my poorPlanchet, ought I still to drink good wine?"

"Come! my dear master, " said Planchet, making a superhuman effort, whilst all his contracted muscles, his pallor, and his trembling, betrayed the most acute anguish. "Come! I have been a soldier andconsequently have some courage; do not make me linger, dear Monsieurd'Artagnan; our money is lost, is it not?"

Before he answered, D'Artagnan took his time, and that appeared an ageto the poor grocer. Nevertheless he did nothing but turn about on hischair. 

"And if that were the case, " said he, slowly, moving his head up anddown, "if that were the case, what would you say, my dear friend?"

Planchet, from being pale, turned yellow. It might have been thought hewas going to swallow his tongue, so full became his throat, so red werehis eyes!

"Twenty thousand livres!" murmured he. "Twenty thousand livres, andyet----"

D'Artagnan, with his neck elongated, his legs stretched out, and hishands hanging listlessly, looked like a statue of discouragement. Planchet drew up a sigh from the deepest cavities of his breast. 

"Well, " said he, "I see how it is. Let us be men! It is all over, is itnot? The principal thing is, monsieur, that your life is safe. "

"Doubtless! doubtless!--life is something--but I am ruined!"

"Cordieu! monsieur!" said Planchet, "if it is so, we must not despairfor that; you shall become a grocer with me; I shall take you for mypartner, we will share the profits, and if there should be no moreprofits, well, why then we shall share the almonds, raisins and prunes, and we will nibble together the last quarter of Dutch cheese. "

D'Artagnan could hold out no longer. "Mordioux!" cried he, with greatemotion, "thou art a brave fellow on my honor, Planchet. You have notbeen playing a part, have you? You have not seen the pack-horse with thebags under the shed yonder?"

"What horse? What bags?" said Planchet, whose trembling heart began tosuggest that D'Artagnan was mad. 

"Why, the English bags, Mordioux!" said D'Artagnan, all radiant, quitetransfigured. 

"Ah! good God!" articulated Planchet, drawing back before the dazzlingfire of his looks. 

"Imbecile!" cried D'Artagnan, "you think me mad! Mordioux! On thecontrary, never was my head more clear, or my heart more joyous. To thebags, Planchet, to the bags!"

"But to what bags, good heavens!"

D'Artagnan pushed Planchet towards the window. 

"Under the shed yonder, don't you see a horse?"

"Yes. "

"Don't you see how his back is laden?"

"Yes, yes!"

"Don't you see your lad talking with the postilion?"

"Yes, yes, yes!"

"Well, you know the name of that lad, because he is your own. Call him. "

"Abdon! Abdon!" vociferated Planchet, from the window. 

"Bring the horse!" shouted D'Artagnan. 

"Bring the horse!" screamed Planchet. 

"Now give ten crowns to the postilion, " said D'Artagnan, in the tone hewould have employed in commanding a maneuver; "two lads to bring up thetwo first bags, two to bring up the two last, --and move, Mordioux! belively!"

Planchet rushed down the stairs, as if the devil had been at his heels. A moment later the lads ascended the staircase, bending beneath theirburden. D'Artagnan sent them off to their garrets, carefully closed thedoor, and addressing Planchet, who, in his turn, looked a little wild, --

"Now, we are by ourselves, " said he, and he spread upon the floor alarge cover, and emptied the first bag into it. Planchet did the samewith the second; then D'Artagnan, all in a tremble, let out the preciousbowels of the third with a knife. When Planchet heard the provokingsound of the silver and gold--when he saw bubbling out of the bags theshining crowns, which glittered like fish from the sweep-net--when hefelt himself plunging his hands up to the elbow in that still risingtide of yellow and white coins, a giddiness seized him, and like a manstruck by lightning, he sank heavily down upon the enormous heap, whichhis weight caused to roll away in all directions. Planchet, suffocatedwith joy, had lost his senses. D'Artagnan threw a glass of white wine inhis face, which incontinently recalled him to life. 

"Ah! good heavens! good heavens! good heavens!" said Planchet, wipinghis mustache and beard. 

At that time, as they do now, grocers wore the cavalier mustache and thelansquenet beard, only the money baths, already rare in those days, havebecome almost unknown now. 

"Mordieux!" said D'Artagnan, "there are a hundred thousand crowns foryou, partner. Draw your share, if you please, and I will draw mine. "

"Oh! the lovely sum! Monsieur d'Artagnan, the lovely sum!"

"I confess that half an hour ago I regretted that I had to give you somuch, but I now no longer regret it; thou art a brave grocer, Planchet. There, let us close our accounts, for, as they say, short reckoningsmake long friends. "

"Oh! rather, in the first place, tell me the whole history, " saidPlanchet; "that must be better than the money. "

"Ma foi!" said D'Artagnan, stroking his mustache, "I can't say no, andif ever the historian turns to me for information, he will be ableto say he has not dipped his bucket into a dry spring. Listen, then, Planchet, I will tell you all about it. "

"And I shall build piles of crowns, " said Planchet. "Begin, my dearmaster. "

"Well, this is it, " said D'Artagnan, drawing breath. 

"And that is it, " said Planchet, picking up his first handful of crowns. 

CHAPTER 39. Mazarin's Gaming Party

In a large chamber of the Palais Royal, hung with a dark colored velvet, which threw into strong relief the gilded frames of a great numberof magnificent pictures, on the evening of the arrival of the twoFrenchmen, the whole court was assembled before the alcove of M. LeCardinal de Mazarin, who gave a card party to the king and queen. 

A small screen separated three prepared tables. At one of these tablesthe king and the two queens were seated. Louis XIV. , placed opposite tothe young queen, his wife, smiled upon her with an expression of realhappiness. Anne of Austria held the cards against the cardinal, and herdaughter-in-law assisted her in the game, when she was not engaged insmiling at her husband. As for the cardinal, who was lying on his bedwith a weary and careworn face, his cards were held by the Comtesse deSoissons, and he watched them with an incessant look of interest andcupidity. 

The cardinal's face had been painted by Bernouin; but the rouge, whichglowed only on his cheeks, threw into stronger contrast the sicklypallor of his countenance and the shining yellow of his brow. His eyesalone acquired a more brilliant luster from this auxiliary, and uponthose sick man's eyes were, from time to time, turned the uneasy looksof the king, the queen, and the courtiers. The fact is, that the twoeyes of the Signor Mazarin were the stars more or less brilliant inwhich the France of the seventeenth century read its destiny everyevening and every morning. 

Monseigneur neither won nor lost; he was, therefore neither gay norsad. It was a stagnation in which, full of pity for him, Anne of Austriawould not have willingly left him; but in order to attract the attentionof the sick man by some brilliant stroke, she must have either wonor lost. To win would have been dangerous, because Mazarin would havechanged his indifference into an ugly grimace; to lose would likewisehave been dangerous, because she must have cheated, and the infanta, who watched her game, would, doubtless, have exclaimed against herpartiality for Mazarin. Profiting by this calm, the courtiers werechatting. When not in a bad humor, M. De Mazarin was a very debonnaireprince, and he, who prevented nobody from singing, provided they paid, was not tyrant enough to prevent people from talking, provided they madeup their minds to lose. 

They were therefore chatting. At the first table, the king's youngerbrother, Philip, Duc d'Anjou, was admiring his handsome face in theglass of a box. His favorite, the Chevalier de Lorraine, leaning overthe back of the prince's chair, was listening, with secret envy, tothe Comte de Guiche, another of Philip's favorites, who was relating inchoice terms the various vicissitudes of fortune of the royal adventurerCharles II. He told, as so many fabulous events, all the history of hisperigrinations in Scotland, and his terrors when the enemy's party wasso closely on his track, of nights spent in trees, and days spentin hunger and combats. By degrees, the fate of the unfortunate kinginterested his auditors so greatly, that the play languished even at theroyal table, and the young king, with a pensive look and downcast eye, followed, without appearing to give any attention to it, the smallestdetails of this Odyssey, very picturesquely related by the Comte deGuiche. 

The Comtesse de Soissons interrupted the narrator: "Confess, count, youare inventing. "

"Madame, I am repeating like a parrot all the stories related to me bydifferent Englishmen. To my shame I am compelled to say, I am as exactas a copy. "

"Charles II. Would have died before he could have endured all that. "

Louis XIV. Raised his intelligent and proud head. "Madame, " said he, ina grave tone, still partaking something of the timid child, "monsieurle cardinal will tell you that during my minority the affairs of Francewere in jeopardy, --and that if I had been older, and obliged to takesword in hand, it would sometimes have been for the evening meal. "

"Thanks to God, " said the cardinal, who spoke for the first time, "yourmajesty exaggerates, and your supper has always been ready with that ofyour servants. "

The king colored. 

"Oh!" cried Philip, inconsiderately, from his place, and without ceasingto admire himself, --"I recollect once, at Melun, the supper was laidfor nobody, and that the king ate two-thirds of a slice of bread, andabandoned to me the other third. "

The whole assembly, seeing Mazarin smile, began to laugh. Courtiersflatter kings with the remembrance of past distresses, as with the hopesof future good fortune. 

"It is not to be denied that the crown of France has always remainedfirm upon the heads of its kings, " Anne of Austria hastened to say, "and that it has fallen off of that of the king of England; and when bychance that crown oscillated a little, --for there are throne-quakes aswell as earthquakes, --every time, I say, that rebellion threatened it, agood victory restored tranquillity. "

"With a few gems added to the crown, " said Mazarin. 

The Comte de Guiche was silent: the king composed his countenance, andMazarin exchanged looks with Anne of Austria, as if to thank her for herintervention. 

"It is of no consequence, " said Philip, smoothing his hair; "my cousinCharles is not handsome, but he is very brave, and fought like alandsknecht; and if he continues to fight thus, no doubt he will finishby gaining a battle, like Rocroy----"

"He has no soldiers, " interrupted the Chevalier de Lorraine. 

"The king of Holland, his ally, will give him some. I would willinglyhave given him some if I had been king of France. "

Louis XIV. Blushed excessively. Mazarin affected to be more attentive tohis game than ever. 

"By this time, " resumed the Comte de Guiche, "the fortune of thisunhappy prince is decided. If he has been deceived by Monk, he isruined. Imprisonment, perhaps death, will finish what exile, battles, and privations have commenced. "

Mazarin's brow became clouded. 

"Is it certain, " said Louis XIV. "that his majesty Charles II. , hasquitted the Hague?"

"Quite certain, your majesty, " replied the young man; "my father hasreceived a letter containing all the details; it is even known that theking has landed at Dover; some fishermen saw him entering the port; therest is still a mystery. "

"I should like to know the rest, " said Philip, impetuously. "Youknow, --you, my brother. "

Louis XIV. Colored again. That was the third time within an hour. "Askmy lord cardinal, " replied he, in a tone which made Mazarin, Anne ofAustria, and everybody else open their eyes. 

"That means, my son, " said Anne of Austria, laughing, "that the kingdoes not like affairs of state to be talked of out of the council. "

Philip received the reprimand with good grace, and bowed, first smilingat his brother, and then his mother. But Mazarin saw from the corner ofhis eye that a group was about to be formed in the corner of the room, and that the Duc d'Anjou, with the Comte de Guiche, and the Chevalier deLorraine, prevented from talking aloud, might say, in a whisper, whatit was not convenient should be said. He was beginning, then, to dart atthem glances full of mistrust and uneasiness, inviting Anne of Austriato throw perturbation in the midst of the unlawful assembly, when, suddenly, Bernouin, entering from behind the tapestry of the bedroom, whispered in the ear of Mazarin, "Monseigneur, an envoy from hismajesty, the king of England. "

Mazarin could not help exhibiting a slight emotion, which was perceivedby the king. To avoid being indiscreet, rather than to appear useless, Louis XIV. Rose immediately, and approaching his eminence, wished himgood-night. All the assembly had risen with a great noise of rolling ofchairs and tables being pushed away. 

"Let everybody depart by degrees, " said Mazarin in a whisper to LouisXIV. , "and be so good as to excuse me a few minutes. I am going todispatch an affair about which I wish to converse with your majesty thisvery evening. "

"And the queens?" asked Louis XIV. 

"And M. Le Duc d'Anjou, " said his eminence. 

At the same time he turned round in his ruelle, the curtains of which, in falling, concealed the bed. The cardinal, nevertheless, did not losesight of the conspirators. 

"M. Le Comte de Guiche, " said he, in a fretful voice, whilst putting on, behind the curtain, his dressing-gown, with the assistance of Bernouin. 

"I am here, my lord, " said the young man, as he approached. 

"Take my cards, you are lucky. Win a little money for me of thesegentlemen. "

"Yes, my lord. "

The young man sat down at the table from which the king withdrew to talkwith the two queens. A serious game was commenced between the comteand several rich courtiers. In the meantime Philip was discussing thequestions of dress with the Chevalier de Lorraine, and they had ceasedto hear the rustling of the cardinal's silk robe from behind thecurtain. His eminence had followed Bernouin into the closet adjoiningthe bedroom. 

CHAPTER 40. An Affair of State

The cardinal, on passing into his cabinet, found the Comte de la Fere, who was waiting for him, engaged in admiring a very fine Raphael placedover a sideboard covered with plate. His eminence came in softly, lightly, and silently as a shadow, and surprised the countenance of thecomte, as he was accustomed to do, pretending to divine by the simpleexpression of the face of his interlocutor what would be the result ofthe conversation. 

But this time Mazarin was foiled in his expectation: he read nothingupon the face of Athos, not even the respect he was accustomed to see onall faces. Athos was dressed in black, with a simple lacing of silver. He wore the Holy Ghost, the Garter, and the Golden Fleece, three ordersof such importance, that a king alone, or else a player, could wear themat once. 

Mazarin rummaged a long time in his somewhat troubled memory to recallthe name he ought to give to this icy figure, but he did not succeed. "Iam told, " said he, at length, "you have a message from England for me. "

And he sat down, dismissing Bernouin, who, in his quality of secretary, was getting his pen ready. 

"On the part of his majesty, the king of England, yes, your eminence. "

"You speak very good French for an Englishman monsieur, " said Mazarin, graciously, looking through his fingers at the Holy Ghost, Garter, andGolden Fleece, but more particularly at the face of the messenger. 

"I am not an Englishman, but a Frenchman, monsieur le cardinal, " repliedAthos. 

"It is remarkable that the king of England should choose a Frenchman forhis ambassador; it is an excellent augury. Your name, monsieur, if youplease. "

"Comte de la Fere, " replied Athos, bowing more slightly than theceremonial and pride of the all-powerful minister required. 

Mazarin bent his shoulders, as if to say:--

"I do not know that name. "

Athos did not alter his carriage. 

"And you come, monsieur, " continued Mazarin, "to tell me----"

"I come on the part of his majesty the king of Great Britain to announceto the king of France"--Mazarin frowned--"to announce to the king ofFrance, " continued Athos, imperturbably, "the happy restoration of hismajesty Charles II. To the throne of his ancestors. "

This shade did not escape his cunning eminence. Mazarin was too muchaccustomed to mankind, not to see in the cold and almost haughtypoliteness of Athos, an index of hostility, which was not of thetemperature of that hot-house called a court. 

"You have powers. I suppose?" asked Mazarin, in a short, querulous tone. 

"Yes, monseigneur. " And the word "monseigneur" came so painfully fromthe lips of Athos that it might be said it skinned them. 

Athos took from an embroidered velvet bag which he carried under hisdoublet a dispatch. The cardinal held out his hand for it. "Your pardon, monseigneur, " said Athos. "My dispatch is for the king. "

"Since you are a Frenchman, monsieur, you ought to know the position ofa prime minister at the court of France. "

"There was a time, " replied Athos, "when I occupied myself with theimportance of prime ministers, but I have formed, long ago, a resolutionto treat no longer with any but the king. "

"Then, monsieur, " said Mazarin, who began to be irritated, "you willneither see the minister nor the king. "

Mazarin rose. Athos replaced his dispatch in its bag, bowed gravely, andmade several steps towards the door. This coolness exasperated Mazarin. "What strange diplomatic proceedings are these!" cried he. "Have wereturned to the times when Cromwell sent us bullies in the guise ofcharges d'affaires? You want nothing monsieur, but the steel cap on yourhead, and a Bible at your girdle. "

"Monsieur, " said Athos, dryly, "I have never had, as you have, theadvantage of treating with Cromwell; and I have only seen his chargesd'affaires sword in hand, I am therefore ignorant of how he treated withprime ministers. As for the king of England, Charles II. , I know thatwhen he writes to his majesty King Louis XIV. , he does not write to hiseminence the Cardinal Mazarin. I see no diplomacy in that distinction. "

"Ah!" cried Mazarin, raising his attenuated hand and striking his head, "I remember now!" Athos looked at him in astonishment. "Yes, that isit!" said the cardinal, continuing to look at his interlocutor; "yes, that is certainly it. I know you now, monsieur. Ah! diavolo! I am nolonger astonished. "

"In fact, I was astonished that, with your eminence's excellent memory, "replied Athos, smiling, "you had not recognized me before. "

"Always refractory and grumbling--monsieur--monsieur--What do they callyou? Stop--a name of a river--Potamos; no--the name of an island--Naxos;no, per Giove!--the name of a mountain--Athos! now I have it. Delightedto see you again, and to be no longer at Rueil, where you and yourdamned companions made me pay ransom. Fronde! still Fronde! accursedFronde! Oh, what grudges! Why, monsieur, have your antipathies survivedmine? If any one had cause to complain, I think it could not be you, whogot out of the affair not only in a sound skin, but with the cordon ofthe Holy Ghost around your neck. "

"My lord cardinal, " replied Athos, "permit me not to enter intoconsiderations of that kind. I have a mission to fulfill. Will youfacilitate the means of my fulfilling that mission, or will you not?"

"I am astonished, " said Mazarin, --quite delighted at havingrecovered his memory, and bristling with malice--"I am astonished, Monsieur--Athos--that a Frondeur like you should have accepted a missionfor the Mazarin, as used to be said in the good old times----" AndMazarin began to laugh, in spite of a painful cough, which cut short hissentences, converting them into sobs. 

"I have only accepted the mission near the king of France, monsieur lecardinal, " retorted the comte, though with less asperity, for he thoughthe had sufficiently the advantage to show himself moderate. 

"And yet, Monsieur le Frondeur, " said Mazarin gayly, "the affair whichyou have taken in charge must, from the king----"

"With which I have been given in charge, monseigneur. I do not run afteraffairs. "

"Be it so. I say that this negotiation must pass through my hands. Letus lose no precious time, then. Tell me the conditions. "

"I have had the honor of assuring your eminence that only the letter ofhis majesty King Charles II. Contains the revelation of his wishes. "

"Pooh! you are ridiculous with your obstinacy, Monsieur Athos. It isplain you have kept company with the Puritans yonder. As to your secret, I know it better than you do; and you have done wrongly, perhaps, innot having shown some respect for a very old and suffering man, whohas labored much during his life, and kept the field for his ideas asbravely as you have for yours. You will not communicate your letter tome? You will say nothing to me? Very well! Come with me into my chamber;you shall speak to the king--and before the king. --Now, then, one lastword: who gave you the Fleece? I remember you passed for having theGarter; but as to the Fleece, I do not know----"

"Recently, my lord, Spain, on the occasion of the marriage of hismajesty Louis XIV. , sent King Charles II. A brevet of the Fleece inblank, Charles II. Immediately transmitted it to me, filling up theblank with my name. "

Mazarin arose, and leaning on the arm of Bernouin, he returned to hisruelle at the moment the name of M. Le Prince was being announced. ThePrince de Conde, the first prince of the blood, the conqueror of Rocroy, Lens and Nordlingen, was, in fact, entering the apartment of Monseigneurde Mazarin, followed by his gentlemen, and had already saluted the king, when the prime minister raised his curtain. Athos had time to see Raoulpressing the hand of the Comte de Guiche, and send him a smile inreturn for his respectful bow. He had time, likewise, to see the radiantcountenance of the cardinal, when he perceived before him, upon thetable, an enormous heap of gold, which the Comte de Guiche had won ina run of luck, after his eminence had confided his cards to him. Soforgetting ambassador, embassy and prince, his first thought was of thegold. "What!" cried the old man--"all that--won?"

"Some fifty thousand crowns; yes, monseigneur!" replied the Comte deGuiche, rising. "Must I give up my place to your eminence, or shall Icontinue?"

"Give up! give up! you are mad. You would lose all you have won. Peste!"

"My lord!" said the Prince de Conde, bowing. 

"Good-evening, monsieur le prince, " said the minister, in a carelesstone; "it is very kind of you to visit an old sick friend. "

"A friend!" murmured the Comte de la Fere, at witnessing with stuporthis monstrous alliance of words;--"friends! when the parties are Condeand Mazarin!"

Mazarin seemed to divine the thought of the Frondeur, for he smiled uponhim with triumph, and immediately, --"Sire, " said he to the king, "I havethe honor of presenting to your majesty, Monsieur le Comte de la Fere, ambassador from his Britannic majesty. An affair of state, gentlemen, "added he, waving his hand to all who filled the chamber, and who, thePrince de Conde at their head, all disappeared at the simple gesture. Raoul, after a last look cast at the comte, followed M. De Conde. Philipof Anjou and the queen appeared to be consulting about departing. 

"A family affair, " said Mazarin, suddenly, detaining them in theirseats. "This gentleman is the bearer of a letter in which King CharlesII. , completely restored to his throne, demands an alliance betweenMonsieur, the brother of the king, and Mademoiselle Henrietta, grand-daughter of Henry IV. Will you remit your letter of credit to theking, monsieur le comte?"

Athos remained for a minute stupefied. How could the minister possiblyknow the contents of the letter which had never been out of his keepingfor a single instant? Nevertheless, always master of himself, he heldout the dispatch to the young king, Louis XIV. , who took it with ablush. A solemn silence reigned in the cardinal's chamber. It was onlytroubled by the dull sound of the gold, which Mazarin with his yellowdry hand, piled up in a casket, whilst the king was reading. 

CHAPTER 41. The Recital

The maliciousness of the cardinal did not leave much for the ambassadorto say; nevertheless, the word "restoration" had struck the king, who, addressing the comte, upon whom his eyes had been fixed since hisentrance, --"Monsieur, " said he, "will you have the kindness to giveus some details concerning the affairs of England. You come from thatcountry, you are a Frenchman, and the orders which I see glitteringupon your person announce you to be a man of merit as well as a man ofquality. "

"Monsieur, " said the cardinal, turning towards the queen-mother, "is anancient servant of your majesty's, Monsieur le Comte de la Fere. "

Anne of Austria was as oblivious as a queen whose life had been mingledwith fine and stormy days. She looked at Mazarin, whose evil smilepromised her something disagreeable; then she solicited from Athos, byanother look, an explanation. 

"Monsieur, " continued the cardinal, "was a Treville musketeer, in theservice of the late king. Monsieur is well acquainted with England, whither he has made several voyages at various periods; he is a subjectof the highest merit. "

These words made allusion to all the memories which Anne of Austriatrembled to evoke. England, that was her hatred of Richelieu and herlove for Buckingham; a Treville musketeer, that was the whole Odyssey ofthe triumphs which had made the heart of the young woman throb, and ofthe dangers which had been so near overturning the throne of the youngqueen. These words had much power, for they rendered mute and attentiveall the royal personages, who, with very various sentiments, set aboutrecomposing at the same time the mysteries which the young had not seen, and which the old had believed to be forever effaced. 

"Speak, monsieur, " said Louis XIV. , the first to escape from troubles, suspicions, and remembrances. 

"Yes, speak, " added Mazarin, to whom the little malicious thrustdirected against Anne of Austria had restored energy and gayety. 

"Sire, " said the comte, "a sort of miracle has changed the whole destinyof Charles II. That which men, till that time, had been unable to do, God resolved to accomplish. "

Mazarin coughed while tossing about in his bed. 

"King Charles II. , " continued Athos, "left the Hague neither as afugitive nor a conqueror, but as an absolute king, who, after a distantvoyage from his kingdom, returns amidst universal benedictions. "

"A great miracle, indeed, " said Mazarin; "for, if the news was true, King Charles II. , who has just returned amidst benedictions, went awayamidst musket-shots. "

The king remained impassible. Philip, younger and more frivolous, couldnot repress a smile, which flattered Mazarin as an applause of hispleasantry. 

"It is plain, " said the king, "there is a miracle; but God, who does somuch for kings, monsieur le comte, nevertheless employs the hand of manto bring about the triumph of His designs. To what men does Charles II. Principally owe his re-establishment?"

"Why, " interrupted Mazarin, without any regard for the king'spride--"does not your majesty know that it is to M. Monk?"

"I ought to know it, " replied Louis XIV. , resolutely; "and yet I ask mylord ambassador the causes of the change in this General Monk?"

"And your majesty touches precisely the question, " replied Athos, "forwithout the miracle of which I have had the honor to speak, GeneralMonk would probably have remained an implacable enemy of Charles II. Godwilled that a strange, bold, and ingenious idea should enter intothe mind of a certain man, whilst a devoted and courageous idea tookpossession of the mind of another man. The combinations of these twoideas brought about such a change in the position of M. Monk, that, froman inveterate enemy, he became a friend to the deposed king. "

"These are exactly the details I asked for, " said the king. "Who andwhat are the two men of whom you speak?"

"Two Frenchmen, sire. "

"Indeed! I am glad of that. "

"And the two ideas, " said Mazarin;--"I am more curious about ideas thanabout men, for my part. "

"Yes, " murmured the king. 

"The second idea, the devoted, reasonable idea--the least important, sir--was to go and dig up a million in gold, buried by King Charles I. At Newcastle, and to purchase with that gold the adherence of Monk. "

"Oh, oh!" said Mazarin, reanimated by the word million. "But Newcastlewas at the time occupied by Monk. "

"Yes, monsieur le cardinal, and that is why I venture to call the ideacourageous as well as devoted. It was necessary, if Monk refused theoffers of the negotiator, to reinstate King Charles II. In possession ofthis million, which was to be torn, as it were, from the loyalty andnot the royalism of General Monk. This was effected in spite of manydifficulties: the general proved to be loyal, and allowed the money tobe taken away. "

"It seems to me, " said the timid, thoughtful king, "that Charles II. Could not have known of this million whilst he was in Paris. "

"It seems to me, " rejoined the cardinal, maliciously, "that his majestythe king of Great Britain knew perfectly well of this million, but thathe preferred having two millions to having one. "

"Sire, " said Athos, firmly, "the king of England, whilst in France, wasso poor that he had not even money to take the post; so destitute ofhope that he frequently thought of dying. He was so entirely ignorant ofthe existence of the million at Newcastle, that but for a gentleman--oneof your majesty's subjects--the moral depositary of the million, whorevealed the secret to King Charles II. , that prince would still bevegetating in the most cruel forgetfulness. "

"Let us pass on to the strange, bold and ingenious idea, " interruptedMazarin, whose sagacity foresaw a check. "What was that idea?"

"This--M. Monk formed the only obstacle to the re-establishment ofthe fallen king. A Frenchman imagined the idea of suppressing thisobstacle. "

"Oh! oh! but he is a scoundrel, that Frenchman, " said Mazarin, "and theidea is not so ingenious as to prevent its author being tied up by theneck at the Place de Greve, by decree of the parliament. "

"Your eminence is mistaken, " replied Athos, dryly; "I did not say thatthe Frenchman in question had resolved to assassinate M. Monk, but onlyto suppress him. The words of the French language have a value which thegentlemen of France know perfectly. Besides, this is an affair ofwar; and when men serve kings against their enemies they are not to becondemned by a parliament--God is their judge. This French gentleman, then, formed the idea of gaining possession of the person of Monk, andhe executed his plan. "

The king became animated at the recital of great actions. The king'syounger brother struck the table with his hand, exclaiming, "Ah! that isfine!"

"He carried off Monk?" said the king. "Why, Monk was in his camp. "

"And the gentleman was alone, sire. "

"That is marvelous!" said Philip. 

"Marvelous, indeed!" cried the king. 

"Good! There are the two little lions unchained, " murmured the cardinal. And with an air of spite, which he did not dissemble: "I am unacquaintedwith these details, will you guarantee their authenticity, monsieur?"

"All the more easily, my lord cardinal, from having seen the events. "

"You have?"

"Yes, monseigneur. "

The king had involuntarily drawn close to the count, the Duc d'Anjou hadturned sharply round, and pressed Athos on the other side. 

"What next? monsieur, what next?" cried they both at the same time. 

"Sire, M. Monk, being taken by the Frenchman, was brought to KingCharles II. , at the Hague. The king gave back his freedom to Monk, andthe grateful general, in return, gave Charles II. The throne of GreatBritain, for which so many valiant men had fought in vain. "

Philip clapped his hands with enthusiasm; Louis XIV. , more reflective, turned towards the Comte de la Fere. 

"Is this true, " said he, "in all its details?"

"Absolutely true, sire. "

"That one of my gentlemen knew the secret of the million, and kept it?"

"Yes, sire. "

"The name of that gentleman?"

"It was your humble servant, " said Athos, simply, and bowing. 

A murmur of admiration made the heart of Athos swell with pleasure. Hehad reason to be proud, at least. Mazarin, himself, had raised his armstowards heaven. 

"Monsieur, " said the king, "I shall seek, and find means to reward you. "Athos made a movement. "Oh, not for your honesty, to be paid for thatwould humiliate you, but I owe you a reward for having participated inthe restoration of my brother, King Charles II. "

"Certainly, " said Mazarin. 

"It is the triumph of a good cause which fills the whole house of Francewith joy, " said Anne of Austria. 

"I continue, " said Louis XIV. "Is it also true that a single manpenetrated to Monk, in his camp, and carried him off?"

"That man had ten auxiliaries, taken from a very inferior rank. "

"And nothing but them?"

"Nothing more. "

"And he is named?"

"Monsieur d'Artagnan, formerly lieutenant of the musketeers of yourmajesty. "

Anne of Austria colored; Mazarin became yellow with shame; Louis XIV. Was deeply thoughtful, and a drop of moisture fell from his pale brow. "What men!" murmured he. And, involuntarily, he darted a glance at theminister which would have terrified him, if Mazarin, at the moment, hadnot concealed his head under his pillow. 

"Monsieur, " said the young Duc d'Anjou, placing his hand, delicate andwhite as that of a woman, upon the arm of Athos, "tell that brave man, I beg you, that Monsieur, brother of the king, will to-morrow drink hishealth before five hundred of the best gentlemen of France. " And, onfinishing these words, the young man, perceiving that his enthusiasm hadderanged one of his ruffles, set to work to put it to rights with thegreatest care imaginable. 

"Let us resume business, sire, " interrupted Mazarin who never wasenthusiastic, and who wore no ruffles. 

"Yes, monsieur, " replied Louis XIV. "Pursue your communication, monsieurle comte, " added he, turning towards Athos. 

Athos immediately began and offered in due form the hand of the PrincessHenrietta Stuart to the young prince, the king's brother. The conferencelasted an hour; after which the doors of the chamber were thrown open tothe courtiers, who resumed their places as if nothing had been kept fromthem in the occupations of that evening. Athos then found himself againwith Raoul, and the father and son were able to clasp each other'shands. 

CHAPTER 42. In which Mazarin becomes Prodigal

Whilst Mazarin was endeavoring to recover from the serious alarm hehad just experienced, Athos and Raoul were exchanging a few words ina corner of the apartment. "Well, here you are at Paris, then, Raoul?"said the comte. 

"Yes, monsieur, since the return of M. Le Prince. "

"I cannot converse freely with you here, because we are observed; but Ishall return home presently, and shall expect you as soon as your dutypermits. "

Raoul bowed, and, at that moment, M. Le Prince came up to them. Theprince had that clear and keen look which distinguishes birds of preyof the noble species; his physiognomy itself presented several distincttraits of this resemblance. It is known that in the Prince de Conde, the aquiline nose rose out sharply and incisively from a brow slightlyretreating, rather low than high, and according to the railers of thecourt, --a pitiless race even for genius, --constituted rather an eagle'sbeak than a human nose, in the heir of the illustrious princes of thehouse of Conde. This penetrating look, this imperious expression of thewhole countenance generally disturbed those to whom the prince spoke, more than either majesty or regular beauty could have done in theconqueror of Rocroy. Besides this, the fire mounted so suddenly to hisprojecting eyes, that with the prince every sort of animation resembledpassion. Now, on account of his rank, everybody at the court respectedM. Le Prince, and many even, seeing only the man, carried their respectas far as terror. 

Louis de Conde then advanced towards the Comte de la Fere and Raoul, with the marked intention of being saluted by the one, and of speakingto the other. No man bowed with more reserved grace than the Comte dela Fere. He disdained to put into a salutation all the shades which acourtier ordinarily borrows from the same color--the desire to please. Athos knew his own personal value, and bowed to the prince like a man, correcting by something sympathetic and undefinable that which mighthave appeared offensive to the pride of the highest rank in theinflexibility of his attitude. The prince was about to speak to Raoul. Athos forestalled him. "If M. Le Vicomte de Bragelonne, " said he, "werenot one of the humble servants of your royal highness, I would beg himto pronounce my name before you--mon prince. "

"I have the honor to address Monsieur le Comte de la Fere, " said Condeinstantly. 

"My protector, " added Raoul, blushing. 

"One of the most honorable men in the kingdom, " continued the prince;"one of the first gentlemen of France, and of whom I have heard so muchthat I have frequently desired to number him among my friends. "

"An honour of which I should be unworthy, " replied Athos, "but for therespect and admiration I entertain for your royal highness. "

"Monsieur de Bragelonne, " said the prince, "is a good officer, and it isplainly seen that he has been to a good school. Ah, monsieur le comte, in your time, generals had soldiers!"

"That is true, my lord, but nowadays soldiers have generals. "

This compliment, which savored so little of flattery, gave a thrill ofjoy to the man whom already Europe considered a hero; and who might bethought to be satiated with praise. 

"I regret very much, " continued the prince, "that you should haveretired from the service, monsieur le comte, for it is more thanprobable that the king will soon have a war with Holland or England, andopportunities for distinguishing himself would not be wanting for a manwho, like you, knows Great Britain as well as you do France. "

"I believe I may say, monseigneur, that I have acted wisely in retiringfrom the service, " said Athos, smiling. "France and Great Britain willhenceforward live like two sisters, if I can trust my presentiments. "

"Your presentiments?"

"Stop, monseigneur, listen to what is being said yonder, at the table ofmy lord the cardinal. "

"Where they are playing?"

"Yes, my lord. "

The cardinal had just raised himself on one elbow, and made a sign tothe king's brother, who went to him. 

"My lord, " said the cardinal, "pick up, if you please, all those goldcrowns. " And he pointed to the enormous pile of yellow and glitteringpieces which the Comte de Guiche had raised by degrees before him by asurprising run of luck at play. 

"For me?" cried the Duc d'Anjou. 

"Those fifty thousand crowns; yes, monseigneur, they are yours. "

"Do you give them to me?"

"I have been playing on your account, monseigneur, " replied thecardinal, getting weaker and weaker, as if this effort of giving moneyhad exhausted all his physical and moral faculties. 

"Oh, good heavens!" exclaimed Philip, wild with joy, "what a fortunateday!" And he himself, making a rake of his fingers, drew a part of thesum into his pockets, which he filled, and still full a third remainedon the table. 

"Chevalier, " said Philip to his favorite, the Chevalier de Lorraine, "come hither, chevalier. " The favorite quickly obeyed. "Pocket therest, " said the young prince. 

This singular scene was considered by the persons present only as atouching kind of family fete. The cardinal assumed the airs of a fatherwith the sons of France, and the two young princes had grown up underhis wing. No one then imputed to pride, or even impertinence, as wouldbe done nowadays, this liberality on the part of the first minister. Thecourtiers were satisfied with envying the prince. --The king turned awayhis head. 

"I never had so much money before, " said the young prince, joyously, as he crossed the chamber with his favorite to go to his carriage. "No, never! What a weight these crowns are!"

"But why has monsieur le cardinal given all this money at once?" askedM. Le Prince of the Comte de la Fere. "He must be very ill, the dearcardinal!"

"Yes, my lord, very ill; without doubt; he looks very ill, as your royalhighness may perceive. "

"But surely he will die of it. A hundred and fifty thousand crowns! Oh, it is incredible! But, comte tell me a reason for it?"

"Patience, monseigneur, I beg of you. Here comes M. Le Duc d'Anjou, talking with the Chevalier de Lorraine; I should not be surprised ifthey spared us the trouble of being indiscreet. Listen to them. "

In fact the chevalier said to the prince in a low voice, "My lord, itis not natural for M. Mazarin to give you so much money. Take care! youwill let some of the pieces fall, my lord. What design has the cardinalupon you to make him so generous?"

"As I said, " whispered Athos in the prince's ear; "that, perhaps, is thebest reply to your question. "

"Tell me, my lord, " repeated the chevalier impatiently, as he wascalculating, by weighing them in his pocket, the quota of the sum whichhad fallen to his share by rebound. 

"My dear chevalier, a wedding present. "

"How a wedding present?"

"Eh! yes, I am going to be married, " replied the Duc d'Anjou, withoutperceiving, at the moment, he was passing the prince and Athos, who bothbowed respectfully. 

The chevalier darted at the young duke a glance so strange, and somalicious, that the Comte de la Fere quite started on beholding it. 

"You! you to be married!" repeated he; "oh! that's impossible. You wouldnot commit such a folly!"

"Bah! I don't do it myself; I am made to do it, " replied the Ducd'Anjou. "But come, quick! let us get rid of our money. " Thereupon hedisappeared with his companion, laughing and talking, whilst all headswere bowed on his passage. 

"Then, " whispered the prince to Athos, "that is the secret. "

"It was not I that told you so, my lord. "

"He is to marry the sister of Charles II. ?"

"I believe so. "

The prince reflected for a moment, and his eye shot forth one of its notunfrequent flashes. "Humph!" said he slowly, as if speaking to himself;"our swords are once more to be hung on the wall--for a long time!" andhe sighed. 

All that sigh contained of ambition silently stifled, of extinguishedillusions and disappointed hopes, Athos alone divined, for he alone hadheard that sigh. Immediately after, the prince took leave and the kingleft the apartment. Athos, by a sign made to Bragelonne, renewed thedesire he had expressed at the beginning of the scene. By degrees thechamber was deserted, and Mazarin was left alone, a prey to sufferingwhich he could no longer dissemble. "Bernouin! Bernouin!" cried he, in abroken voice. 

"What does monseigneur want?"

"Guenaud--let Guenaud be sent for, " said his eminence. "I think I'mdying. "

Bernouin, in great terror, rushed into the cabinet to give the order, and the piqueur, who hastened to fetch the physician, passed the king'scarriage in the Rue Saint Honore. 

CHAPTER 43. Guenaud

The cardinal's order was pressing; Guenaud quickly obeyed it. He foundhis patient stretched on his bed, his legs swelled, his face livid, andhis stomach collapsed. Mazarin had a severe attack of gout. He sufferedtortures with the impatience of a man who has not been accustomed toresistances. On seeing Guenaud: "Ah!" said he; "now I am saved!"

Guenaud was a very learned and circumspect man, who stood in no need ofthe critiques of Boileau to obtain a reputation. When facing a disease, if it were personified in a king, he treated the patient as a Turktreats a Moor. He did not, therefore, reply to Mazarin as the ministerexpected: "Here is the doctor; good-bye disease!" On the contrary, onexamining his patient, with a very serious air:

"Oh! oh!" said he. 

"Eh! what! Guenaud! How you look at me!"

"I look as I should on seeing your complaint, my lord; it is a verydangerous one. "

"The gout--oh! yes, the gout. "

"With complications, my lord"

Mazarin raised himself upon his elbow, and, questioning by look andgesture: "What do you mean by that? Am I worse than I believe myself tobe?"

"My lord, " said Guenaud, seating himself beside the bed, "your eminencehas worked very hard during your life; your eminence has suffered much. "

"But I am not old, I fancy. The late M. De Richelieu was but seventeenmonths younger than I am when he died, and died of a mortal disease. Iam young, Guenaud: remember, I am scarcely fifty-two. "

"Oh! my lord, you are much more than that. How long did the Frondelast?"

"For what purpose do you put such a question to me?"

"For a medical calculation, monseigneur. "

"Well, some ten years--off and on. "

"Very well, be kind enough to reckon every year of the Fronde as threeyears--that makes thirty; now twenty and fifty-two makes seventy-twoyears. You are seventy-two, my lord; and that is a great age. "

Whilst saying this, he felt the pulse of his patient. This pulsewas full of such fatal indications, that the physician continued, notwithstanding the interruptions of the patient: "Put down the years ofthe Fronde at four each, and you have lived eighty-two years. "

"Are you speaking seriously, Guenaud?"

"Alas! yes, monseigneur. "

"You take a roundabout way, then, to inform me that I am very ill?"

"Ma foi! yes, my lord, and with a man of the mind and courage of youreminence, it ought not to be necessary to do. "

The cardinal breathed with such difficulty that he inspired pity evenin a pitiless physician. "There are diseases and diseases, " resumedMazarin. "From some of them people escape. "

"That is true, my lord. "

"Is it not?" cried Mazarin, almost joyously; "for, in short, what elsewould be the use of power, of strength of will? What would the use ofgenius be--your genius, Guenaud? What would be the use of science andart, if the patient, who disposes of all that, cannot be saved fromperil?"

Guenaud was about to open his mouth, but Mazarin continued:

"Remember, " said he, "I am the most confiding of your patients; rememberI obey you blindly, and that consequently----"

"I know all that, " said Guenaud. 

"I shall be cured, then?"

"Monseigneur, there is neither strength of will, nor power, nor genius, nor science that can resist a disease which God doubtless sends, orwhich He casts upon the earth at the creation, with full power todestroy and kill mankind. When the disease is mortal, it kills, andnothing can----"

"Is--my--disease--mortal?" asked Mazarin. 

"Yes, my lord. "

His eminence sank down for a moment, like an unfortunate wretch who iscrushed by a falling column. But the spirit of Mazarin was a strong one, or rather his mind was a firm one. "Guenaud, " said he, recovering fromhis first shock, "you will permit me to appeal from your judgment. Iwill call together the most learned men of Europe: I will consult them. I will live, in short, by the virtue of I care not what remedy. "

"My lord must not suppose, " said Guenaud, "that I have the presumptionto pronounce alone upon an existence so valuable as yours. I havealready assembled all the good physicians and practitioners of Franceand Europe. There were twelve of them. "

"And they said----"

"They said that your eminence was suffering from a mortal disease; Ihave the consultation signed in my portfolio. If your eminence willplease to see it, you will find the names of all the incurable diseaseswe have met with. There is first----"

"No, no!" cried Mazarin, pushing away the paper. "No, no, Guenaud, I yield! I yield!" And a profound silence, during which the cardinalresumed his senses and recovered his strength, succeeded to theagitation of this scene. "There is another thing, " murmured Mazarin;"there are empirics and charlatans. In my country, those whom physiciansabandon run the chance of a quack, who kills them ten times but savesthem a hundred times. "

"Has not your eminence observed, that during the last month I havechanged my remedies ten times?"

"Yes. Well?"

"Well, I have spent fifty thousand crowns in purchasing the secrets ofall these fellows: the list is exhausted, and so is my purse. You arenot cured; and but for my art, you would be dead. "

"That ends it!" murmured the cardinal; "that ends it. " And he threw amelancholy look upon the riches which surrounded him. "And must I quitall that?" sighed he. "I am dying, Guenaud! I am dying!"

"Oh! not yet, my lord, " said the physician. 

Mazarin seized his hand. "In what time?" asked he, fixing his two largeeyes upon the impassible countenance of the physician. 

"My lord, we never tell that. "

"To ordinary men, perhaps not;--but to me--to me, whose every minute isworth a treasure. Tell me, Guenaud, tell me!"

"No, no, my lord. "

"I insist upon it, I tell you. Oh! give me a month and for every one ofthose thirty days I will pay you a hundred thousand crowns. "

"My lord, " replied Guenaud, in a firm voice, "it is God who can give youdays of grace, and not I. God only allows you a fortnight. "

The cardinal breathed a painful sigh, and sank back upon his pillow, murmuring, "Thank you, Guenaud, thank you!"

The physician was about to depart; the dying man, raising himself up:"Silence!" said he, with flaming eyes, "silence!"

"My lord, I have known this secret two months; you see that I have keptit faithfully. "

"Go, Guenaud, I will take care of your fortunes, go and tell Brienne tosend me a clerk called M. Colbert. Go!"

CHAPTER 44. Colbert

Colbert was not far off. During the whole evening he had remained in oneof the corridors, chatting with Bernouin and Brienne, and commenting, with the ordinary skill of people of a court, upon the news whichdeveloped like air-bubbles upon the water, on the surface of eachevent. It is doubtless time to trace, in a few words, one of the mostinteresting portraits of the age, and to trace it with as much truth, perhaps, as contemporary painters have been able to do. Colbert was aman in whom the historian and the moralist have an equal right. 

He was thirteen years older than Louis XIV. , his future master. Ofmiddle height, rather lean than otherwise, he had deep-set eyes, amean appearance, his hair was coarse, black and thin, which, say thebiographers of his time, made him take early to the skull-cap. A look ofseverity, or harshness even, a sort of stiffness, which, with inferiors, was pride, with superiors an affectation of superior virtue; a surlycast of countenance upon all occasions, even when looking at himself ina glass alone--such is the exterior of this personage. As to the moralpart of his character, the depth of his talent for accounts, and hisingenuity in making sterility itself productive, were much boasted of. Colbert had formed the idea of forcing governors of frontier places tofeed the garrisons without pay, with what they drew from contributions. Such a valuable quality made Mazarin think of replacing Joubert, hisintendant, who had recently died, by M. Colbert, who had such skillin nibbling down allowances. Colbert by degrees crept into court, notwithstanding his lowly birth, for he was the son of a man who soldwine as his father had done, but who afterwards sold cloth, and thensilk stuffs. Colbert, destined for trade, had been clerk in Lyons toa merchant, whom he had quitted to come to Paris in the office of aChatelet procureur named Biterne. It was here he learned the art ofdrawing up an account, and the much more valuable one of complicatingit. 

This stiffness of manner in Colbert had been of great service to him; itis so true that Fortune, when she has a caprice, resembles those womenof antiquity, who, when they had a fancy, were disgusted by no physicalor moral defects in either men or things. Colbert, placed with MichelLetellier, secretary of state in 1648, by his cousin Colbert, Seigneurde Saint-Penange, who protected him, received one day from the ministera commission for Cardinal Mazarin. His eminence was then in theenjoyment of flourishing health, and the bad years of the Fronde hadnot yet counted triple and quadruple for him. He was at Sedan, very muchannoyed at a court intrigue in which Anne of Austria seemed inclined todesert his cause. 

Of this intrigue Letellier held the thread. He had just received aletter from Anne of Austria, a letter very valuable to him, and stronglycompromising Mazarin; but, as he already played the double part whichserved him so well, and by which he always managed two enemies so as todraw advantage from both, either by embroiling them more and more orby reconciling them, Michel Letellier wished to send Anne of Austria'sletter to Mazarin, in order that he might be acquainted with it, and consequently pleased with his having so willingly rendered him aservice. To send the letter was an easy matter; to recover it again, after having communicated it, that was the difficulty. Letellier casthis eyes around him, and seeing the black and meager clerk with thescowling brow, scribbling away in his office, he preferred him to thebest gendarme for the execution of this design. 

Colbert was commanded to set out for Sedan, with positive orders tocarry the letter to Mazarin, and bring it back to Letellier. He listenedto his orders with scrupulous attention, required the instructions to berepeated twice, and was particular in learning whether the bringing backwas as necessary as the communicating, and Letellier replied sternly, "More necessary. " Then he set out, traveled like a courier, without anycare for his body, and placed in the hands of Mazarin, first a letterfrom Letellier, which announced to the cardinal the sending of theprecious letter, and then that letter itself. Mazarin colored greatlywhilst reading Anne of Austria's letter, gave Colbert a gracious smileand dismissed him. 

"When shall I have the answer, monseigneur?"

"To-morrow. "

"To-morrow morning?"

"Yes, monsieur. "

The clerk turned upon his heel, after making his very best bow. The nextday he was at his post at seven o'clock. Mazarin made him wait tillten. He remained patiently in the ante-chamber; his turn having come, he entered; Mazarin gave him a sealed packet. On the envelope of thispacket were these words:--Monsieur Michel Letellier, etc. Colbertlooked at the packet with much attention; the cardinal put on a pleasantcountenance and pushed him towards the door. 

"And the letter of the queen-mother, my lord?" asked Colbert. 

"It is with the rest, in the packet, " said Mazarin. 

"Oh! very well, " replied Colbert, and placing his hat between his knees, he began to unseal the packet. 

Mazarin uttered a cry. "What are you doing?" said he, angrily. 

"I am unsealing the packet, my lord. "

"You mistrust me, then, master pedant, do you? Did any one ever see suchimpertinence?"

"Oh! my lord, do not be angry with me! It is certainly not youreminence's word I place in doubt, God forbid!"

"What then?"

"It is the carefulness of your chancery, my lord. What is a letter? Arag. May not a rag be forgotten? And look, my lord, look if I was notright. Your clerks have forgotten the rag; the letter is not in thepacket. "

"You are an insolent fellow, and you have not looked, " cried Mazarin, very angrily, "begone and wait my pleasure. " Whilst saying these words, with perfectly Italian subtlety he snatched the packet from the hands ofColbert, and re-entered his apartments. 

But this anger could not last so long as not to be replaced in time byreason. Mazarin, every morning, on opening his closet door, foundthe figure of Colbert like a sentinel behind the bench, and thisdisagreeable figure never failed to ask him humbly, but with tenacity, for the queen-mother's letter. Mazarin could hold out no longer, andwas obliged to give it up. He accompanied this restitution with a mostsevere reprimand, during which Colbert contented himself with examining, feeling, even smelling, as it were, the paper, the characters, andthe signature, neither more nor less than if he had to deal with thegreatest forger in the kingdom. Mazarin behaved still more rudely tohim, but Colbert, still impassible, having obtained a certainty that theletter was the true one, went off as if he had been deaf. This conductobtained for him afterwards the post of Joubert; for Mazarin, insteadof bearing malice, admired him, and was desirous of attaching so muchfidelity to himself. 

It may be judged by this single anecdote, what the character of Colbertwas. Events, developing themselves, by degrees allowed all the powers ofhis mind to act freely. Colbert was not long in insinuating himself intothe good graces of the cardinal: he became even indispensable to him. The clerk was acquainted with all his accounts without the cardinal'sever having spoken to him about them. This secret between them was apowerful tie, and this was why, when about to appear before the Masterof another world, Mazarin was desirous of taking good counsel indisposing of the wealth he was so unwillingly obliged to leave inthis world. After the visit of Guenaud, he therefore sent for Colbert, desired him to sit down, and said to him: "Let us converse, MonsieurColbert, and seriously, for I am very ill, and I may chance to die. "

"Man is mortal, " replied Colbert. 

"I have always remembered that, M. Colbert, and I have worked with thatend in view. You know that I have amassed a little wealth. "

"I know you have, monseigneur. "

"At how much do you estimate, as near as you can, the amount of thiswealth, M. Colbert?"

"At forty millions, five hundred and sixty thousand, two hundred livres, nine cents, eight farthings, " replied Colbert. 

The cardinal heaved a deep sigh, and looked at Colbert with wonder, buthe allowed a smile to steal across his lips. 

"Known money, " added Colbert, in reply to that smile. 

The cardinal gave quite a start in bed. "What do you mean by that?" saidhe. 

"I mean, " said Colbert, "that besides those forty millions, five hundredand sixty thousand, two hundred livres, nine cents, eight farthings, there are thirteen millions that are not known. "

"Ouf!" sighed Mazarin, "what a man!"

At this moment the head of Bernouin appeared through the embrasure ofthe door. 

"What is it?" asked Mazarin, "and why do you disturb me?"

"The Theatin father, your eminence's director, was sent for thisevening; and he cannot come again to my lord till after to-morrow. "

Mazarin looked at Colbert, who rose and took his hat saying: "I shallcome again, my lord. "

Mazarin hesitated. "No, no, " said he; "I have as much business totransact with you as with him. Besides, you are my other confessor--andwhat I have to say to one the other may hear. Remain where you are, Colbert. "

"But, my lord, if there be no secret of penitence, will the directorconsent to my being here?"

"Do not trouble yourself about that; come into the ruelle. "

"I can wait outside, monseigneur. "

"No, no, it will do you good to hear the confession of a rich man. "

Colbert bowed and went into the ruelle. 

"Introduce the Theatin father, " said Mazarin, closing the curtains. 

CHAPTER 45. Confession of a Man of Wealth

The Theatin entered deliberately, without being too much astonishedat the noise and agitation which anxiety for the cardinal's health hadraised in his household. "Come in, my reverend father, " said Mazarin, after a last look at the ruelle, "come in and console me. "

"That is my duty, my lord, " replied the Theatin. 

"Begin by sitting down, and making yourself comfortable, for I am goingto begin with a general confession, you will afterwards give me a goodabsolution, and I shall believe myself more tranquil. "

"My lord, " said the father, "you are not so ill as to make a generalconfession urgent--and it will be very fatiguing--take care. "

"You suspect then, that it may be long, father"

"How can I think it otherwise, when a man has lived so completely asyour eminence has done?"

"Ah! that is true!--yes--the recital may be long. "

"The mercy of God is great, " snuffled the Theatin. 

"Stop, " said Mazarin; "there I begin to terrify myself with havingallowed so many things to pass which the Lord might reprove. "

"Is not that always so?" said the Theatin naively, removing further fromthe lamp his thin pointed face, like that of a mole. "Sinners are soforgetful beforehand, and scrupulous when it is too late. "

"Sinners?" replied Mazarin. "Do you use that word ironically, and toreproach me with all the genealogies I have allowed to be made on myaccount--I--the son of a fisherman, in fact?" *

 * This is quite untranslatable--it being a play upon the words pecheur, a sinner, and pecheur, a fisherman. It is in very bad taste. --TRANS. 

"Hum!" said the Theatin. 

"That is a first sin, father; for I have allowed myself made to descendfrom two old Roman consuls, S. Geganius Macerinus 1st, Macerinus 2d, andProculus Macerinus 3d, of whom the Chronicle of Haolander speaks. From Macerinus to Mazarin the proximity was tempting. Macerinus, adiminutive, means leanish, poorish, out of case. Oh! reverend father!Mazarini may now be carried to the augmentative Maigre, thin as Lazarus. Look!" and he showed his fleshless arms. 

"In your having been born of a family of fishermen I see nothinginjurious to you; for--St. Peter was a fisherman; and if you are aprince of the church, my lord, he was the supreme head of it. Pass on, if you please. "

"So much the more for my having threatened with the Bastile a certainBounet, a priest of Avignon, who wanted to publish a genealogy of theCasa Mazarini much too marvelous. "

"To be probable?" replied the Theatin. 

"Oh! if I had acted up to his idea, father, that would have been thevice of pride--another sin. "

"It was excess of wit, and a person is not to be reproached with suchsorts of abuses. Pass on, pass on!"

"I was all pride. Look you, father, I will endeavor to divide that intocapital sins. "

"I like divisions, when well made. "

"I am glad of that. You must know that in 1630--alas! that is thirty-oneyears ago----"

"You were then twenty-nine years old, monseigneur. "

"A hot-headed age. I was then something of a soldier, and I threw myselfat Casal into the arquebuscades, to show that I rode on horseback aswell as an officer. It is true, I restored peace between the French andthe Spaniards. That redeems my sin a little. "

"I see no sin in being able to ride well on horseback, " said theTheatin; "that is in perfect good taste, and does honor to our gown. Asa Christian, I approve of your having prevented the effusion of blood;as a monk I am proud of the bravery a monk has exhibited. "

Mazarin bowed his head humbly. "Yes, " said he, "but the consequences?"

"What consequences?"

"Eh! that damned sin of pride has roots without end. From the timethat I threw myself in that manner between two armies, that I had smeltpowder and faced lines of soldiers, I have held generals a little incontempt. "

"Ah!" said the father. 

"There is the evil; so that I have not found one endurable since thattime. "

"The fact is, " said the Theatin, "that the generals we have had have notbeen remarkable. "

"Oh!" cried Mazarin, "there was Monsieur le Prince. I have tormented himthoroughly. "

"He is not much to be pitied: he has acquired sufficient glory, andsufficient wealth. "

"That may be, for Monsieur le Prince; but M. Beaufort, for example--whomI held suffering so long in the dungeon of Vincennes?"

"Ah! but he was a rebel, and the safety of the state required that youshould make a sacrifice. Pass on!"

"I believe I have exhausted pride. There is another sin which I amafraid to qualify. "

"I can qualify it myself. Tell it. "

"A great sin, reverend father!"

"We shall judge, monseigneur. "

"You cannot fail to have heard of certain relations which I havehad--with her majesty the queen-mother;--the malevolent----"

"The malevolent, my lord, are fools. Was it not necessary for the goodof the state and the interests of the young king, that you should livein good intelligence with the queen? Pass on, pass on!"

"I assure you, " said Mazarin, "you remove a terrible weight from mybreast. "

"These are all trifles!--look for something serious. "

"I have had much ambition, father. "

"That is the march of great minds and things, my lord. "

"Even the longing for the tiara?"

"To be pope is to be the first of Christians. Why should you not desirethat?"

"It has been printed that, to gain that object, I had sold Cambria tothe Spaniards. "

"You have, perhaps, yourself written pamphlets without severelypersecuting pamphleteers. "

"Then, reverend father, I have truly a clean breast. I feel nothingremaining but slight peccadilloes. "

"What are they?"

"Play. "

"That is rather worldly: but you were obliged by the duties of greatnessto keep a good house. "

"I like to win. "

"No player plays to lose. "

"I cheated a little. "

"You took your advantage. Pass on. "

"Well! reverend father, I feel nothing else upon my conscience. Give meabsolution, and my soul will be able, when God shall please to call it, to mount without obstacle to the throne----"

The Theatin moved neither his arms nor his lips. "What are you waitingfor, father?" said Mazarin. 

"I am waiting for the end. "

"The end of what?"

"Of the confession, monsieur. "

"But I have ended. "

"Oh, no; your eminence is mistaken. "

"Not that I know of. "

"Search diligently. "

"I have searched as well as possible. "

"Then I shall assist your memory. "

"Do. "

The Theatin coughed several times. "You have said nothing of avarice, another capital sin, nor of those millions, " said he. 

"What millions, father?"

"Why, those you possess, my lord. "

"Father, that money is mine, why should I speak to you about that?"

"Because, see you, our opinions differ. You say that money is yours, whilst I--I believe it is rather the property of others. "

Mazarin lifted his cold hand to his brow, which was beaded withperspiration. "How so?" stammered he. 

"This way. Your excellency has gained much wealth--in the service of theking. "

"Hum! much--that is, not too much. "

"Whatever it may be, whence came that wealth?

"From the state. "

"The state, that is the king. "

"But what do you conclude from that, father?" said Mazarin, who began totremble. 

"I cannot conclude without seeing a list of the riches you possess. Letus reckon a little, if you please. You have the bishopric of Metz?"

"Yes. "

"The abbeys of St. Clement, St. Arnould, and St. Vincent, all at Metz?"

"Yes. "

"You have the abbey of St. Denis, in France, a magnificent property?"

"Yes, father. "

"You have the abbey of Cluny, which is rich?"

"I have. "

"That of St. Medard at Soissons, with a revenue of one hundred thousandlivres?"

"I cannot deny it. "

"That of St. Victor, at Marseilles, --one of the best in the south?"

"Yes, father. "

"A good million a year. With the emoluments of the cardinalship and theministry, I say too little when I say two millions a year. "

"Eh!"

"In ten years that is twenty millions, --and twenty millions put outat fifty per cent give, by progression, twenty-three millions in tenyears. "

"How well you reckon for a Theatin!"

"Since your eminence placed our order in the convent we occupy, near St. Germain des Pres, in 1641, I have kept the accounts of the society. "

"And mine likewise, apparently, father. "

"One ought to know a little of everything, my lord. "

"Very well. Conclude, at present. "

"I conclude that your baggage is too heavy to allow you to pass throughthe gates of Paradise. "

"Shall I be damned?"

"If you do not make restitution, yes. "

Mazarin uttered a piteous cry. "Restitution!--but to whom, good God?"

"To the owner of that money, --to the king. "

"But the king did not give it all to me. "

"One moment, --does not the king sign the ordonnances?"

Mazarin passed from sighs to groans. "Absolution! absolution!" cried he. 

"Impossible, my lord. Restitution! restitution!" replied the Theatin. 

"But you absolve me from all other sins, why not from that?"

"Because, " replied the father, "to absolve you for that motive would bea sin for which the king would never absolve me, my lord. "

Thereupon the confessor quitted his penitent with an air full ofcompunction. He then went out in the same manner he had entered. 

"Oh, good God!" groaned the cardinal. "Come here, Colbert, I am very, very ill indeed, my friend. "

CHAPTER 46. The Donation

Colbert reappeared beneath the curtains. 

"Have you heard?" said Mazarin. 

"Alas! yes, my lord. "

"Can he be right? Can all this money be badly acquired?"

"A Theatin, monseigneur, is a bad judge in matters of finance, " repliedColbert, coolly. "And yet it is very possible that, according to histheological ideas, your eminence has been, in a certain degree, in thewrong. People generally find they have been so, --when they die. "

"In the first place, they commit the wrong of dying, Colbert. "

"That is true, my lord. Against whom, however, did the Theatin make outthat you had committed these wrongs? Against the king?!"

Mazarin shrugged his shoulders. "As if I had not saved both his stateand his finances. "

"That admits of no contradiction, my lord. "

"Does it? Then I have received a merely legitimate salary, in spite ofthe opinion of my confessor?"

"That is beyond doubt. "

"And I might fairly keep for my own family, which is so needy, a goodfortune, --the whole, even, of which I have earned?"

"I see no impediment to that, monseigneur. "

"I felt assured that in consulting you, Colbert, I should have goodadvice, " replied Mazarin, greatly delighted. 

Colbert resumed his pedantic look. "My lord, " interrupted he, "I thinkit would be quite as well to examine whether what the Theatin said isnot a snare. "

"Oh! no; a snare? What for? The Theatin is an honest man. "

"He believed your eminence to be at death's door, because your eminenceconsulted him. Did not I hear him say--'Distinguish that which the kinghas given you from that which you have given yourself. ' Recollect, mylord, if he did not say something a little like that to you?--that isquite a theatrical speech. "

"That is possible. "

"In which case, my lord, I should consider you as required by theTheatin to----"

"To make restitution!" cried Mazarin, with great warmth. 

"Eh! I do not say no. "

"What, of all! You do not dream of such a thing! You speak just as theconfessor did. "

"To make restitution of a part, --that is to say, his majesty's part; andthat, monseigneur, may have its dangers. Your eminence is too skillful apolitician not to know that, at this moment, the king does not possess ahundred and fifty thousand livres clear in his coffers. "

"That is not my affair, " said Mazarin, triumphantly; "that belongs to M. Le Surintendant Fouquet, whose accounts I gave you to verify some monthsago. "

Colbert bit his lips at the name of Fouquet. "His majesty, " said he, between his teeth, "has no money but that which M. Fouquet collects:your money, monseigneur, would afford him a delicious banquet. "

"Well, but I am not the superintendent of his majesty's finances--Ihave my purse--surely I would do much for his majesty's welfare--somelegacy--but I cannot disappoint my family. "

"The legacy of a part would dishonor you and offend the king. Leavinga part to his majesty is to avow that that part has inspired you withdoubts as to the lawfulness of the means of acquisition. "

"Monsieur Colbert!"

"I thought your eminence did me the honor to ask my advice?"

"Yes, but you are ignorant of the principal details of the question. "

"I am ignorant of nothing, my lord; during ten years, all the columns offigures which are found in France have passed in review before me, andif I have painfully nailed them into my brain, they are there now sowell riveted, that, from the office of M. Letellier, who is sober, tothe little secret largesses of M. Fouquet, who is prodigal, I couldrecite, figure by figure, all the money that is spent in France fromMarseilles to Cherbourg. "

"Then, you would have me throw all my money into the coffers of theking!" cried Mazarin, ironically; and from whom, at the same time, the gout forced painful moans. "Surely the king would reproach me withnothing, but he would laugh at me, while squandering my millions, andwith good reason. "

"Your eminence has misunderstood me. I did not, the least in the world, pretend that his majesty ought to spend your money. "

"You said so clearly, it seems to me, when you advised me to give it tohim. "

"Ah, " replied Colbert, "that is because your eminence, absorbed as youare by your disease, entirely loses sight of the character of LouisXIV. "

"How so?"

"That character, if I may venture to express myself thus, resembles thatwhich my lord confessed just now to the Theatin. "

"Go on--that is?"

"Pride! Pardon me, my lord, haughtiness, nobleness; kings have no pride, that is a human passion. "

"Pride, --yes, you are right. Next?"

"Well, my lord, if I have divined rightly, your eminence has but to giveall your money to the king, and that immediately. "

"But for what?" said Mazarin, quite bewildered. 

"Because the king will not accept of the whole. "

"What, and he a young man, and devoured by ambition?"

"Just so. "

"A young man who is anxious for my death----"

"My lord!"

"To inherit, yes, Colbert, yes; he is anxious for my death in order toinherit. Triple fool that I am! I would prevent him!"

"Exactly: if the donation were made in a certain form he would refuseit. "

"Well, but how?"

"That is plain enough. A young man who has yet done nothing--who burnsto distinguish himself--who burns to reign alone, will never takeanything ready built, he will construct for himself. This prince, monseigneur, will never be content with the Palais Royal, which M. DeRichelieu left him, nor with the Palais Mazarin, which you have hadso superbly constructed, nor with the Louvre, which his ancestorsinhabited; nor with St. Germain, where he was born. All that does notproceed from himself, I predict, he will disdain. "

"And you will guarantee, that if I give my forty millions to theking----"

"Saying certain things to him at the same time, I guarantee he willrefuse them. "

"But those things--what are they?"

"I will write them, if my lord will have the goodness to dictate them. "

"Well, but, after all, what advantage will that be to me?"

"An enormous one. Nobody will afterwards be able to accuse your eminenceof that unjust avarice with which pamphleteers have reproached the mostbrilliant mind of the present age. "

"You are right, Colbert, you are right; go, and seek the king, on mypart, and take him my will. "

"Your donation, my lord. "

"But, if he should accept it; if he should even think of accepting it!"

"Then there would remain thirteen millions for your family, and that isa good round sum. "

"But then you would be either a fool or a traitor. "

"And I am neither the one nor the other, my lord. You appear to be muchafraid that the king will accept; you have a deal more reason to fearthat he will not accept. "

"But, see you, if he does not accept, I should like to guarantee mythirteen reserved millions to him--yes, I will do so--yes. But my painsare returning, I shall faint. I am very, very ill, Colbert; I am verynear my end!"

Colbert started. The cardinal was indeed very ill; large drops of sweatflowed down upon his bed of agony, and the frightful pallor of aface streaming with water was a spectacle which the most hardenedpractitioner could not have beheld without compassion. Colbert was, without doubt, very much affected, for he quitted the chamber, callingBernouin to attend the dying man and went into the corridor. There, walking about with a meditative expression, which almost gave nobilityto his vulgar head, his shoulders thrown up, his neck stretched out, his lips half open, to give vent to unconnected fragments of incoherentthoughts, he lashed up his courage to the pitch of the undertakingcontemplated, whilst within ten paces of him, separated only by a wall, his master was being stifled by anguish which drew from him lamentablecries, thinking no more of the treasures of the earth, or of the joysof Paradise, but much of all the horrors of hell. Whilst burning-hotnapkins, physic, revulsives, and Guenaud, who was recalled, wereperforming their functions with increased activity, Colbert, holdinghis great head in both his hands, to compress within it the fever ofthe projects engendered by the brain, was meditating the tenor of thedonation he would make Mazarin write, at the first hour of respite hisdisease should afford him. It would appear as if all the cries of thecardinal, and all the attacks of death upon this representative of thepast, were stimulants for the genius of this thinker with thebushy eyebrows, who was turning already towards the rising sun of aregenerated society. Colbert resumed his place at Mazarin's pillow atthe first interval of pain, and persuaded him to dictate a donation thusconceived. 

"About to appear before God, the Master of mankind, I beg the king, who was my master on earth, to resume the wealth which his bounty hasbestowed upon me, and which my family would be happy to see passinto such illustrious hands. The particulars of my property will befound--they are drawn up--at the first requisition of his majesty, or atthe last sigh of his most devoted servant, "Jules, Cardinal de Mazarin. "

The cardinal sighed heavily as he signed this; Colbert sealed thepacket, and carried it immediately to the Louvre, whither the king hadreturned. 

He then went back to his own home, rubbing his hands with the confidenceof a workman who has done a good day's work. 

CHAPTER 47. How Anne of Austria gave one Piece of Advice to Louis XIV. , and how M. Fouquet gave him another. 

The news of the extreme illness of the cardinal had already spread, andattracted at least as much attention among the people of the Louvreas the news of the marriage of Monsieur, the king's brother, which hadalready been announced as an official fact. Scarcely had Louis XIV. Returned home, with his thoughts fully occupied with the various thingshe had seen and heard in the course of the evening, when an usherannounced that the same crowd of courtiers who, in the morning, hadthronged his lever, presented themselves again at his coucher, aremarkable piece of respect which, during the reign of the cardinal, the court, not very discreet in its preferences, had accorded to theminister, without caring about displeasing the king. 

But the minister had had, as we have said, an alarming attack of gout, and the tide of flattery was mounting towards the throne. Courtiers havea marvelous instinct in scenting the turn of events; courtiers possessa supreme kind of science; they are diplomatists in throwing light uponthe unraveling of complicated intrigues, captains in divining the issueof battles, and physicians in curing the sick. Louis XIV. , to whom hismother had taught this axiom, together with many others, understood atonce that the cardinal must be very ill. 

Scarcely had Anne of Austria conducted the young queen to her apartmentsand taken from her brow the head-dress of ceremony, when she went to seeher son in his cabinet, where, alone, melancholy and depressed, he wasindulging, as if to exercise his will, in one of those terrible inwardpassions--king's passions--which create events when they break out, andwith Louis XIV. , thanks to his astonishing command over himself, becamesuch benign tempests, that his most violent, his only passion, thatwhich Saint Simon mentions with astonishment, was that famous fit ofanger which he exhibited fifty years later, on the occasion of a littleconcealment of the Duc de Maine's and which had for result a shower ofblows inflicted with a cane upon the back of a poor valet who had stolena biscuit. The young king then was, as we have seen, a prey to adouble excitement; and he said to himself as he looked in a glass, "O king!--king by name, and not in fact;--phantom, vain phantom artthou!--inert statue, which has no other power than that of provokingsalutations from courtiers, when wilt thou be able to raise thy velvetarm, or clench thy silken hand? when wilt thou be able to open, forany purpose but to sigh, or smile, lips condemned to the motionlessstupidity of the marbles in thy gallery?"

Then, passing his hand over his brow, and feeling the want of air, heapproached a window, and looking down, saw below some horsemen talkingtogether, and groups of timid observers. These horsemen were a fractionof the watch: the groups were busy portions of the people, to whom aking is always a curious thing, the same as a rhinoceros, a crocodile, or a serpent. He struck his brow with his open hand, crying, --"King ofFrance! what title! People of France! what a heap of creatures! I havejust returned to my Louvre; my horses, just unharnessed, are stillsmoking, and I have created interest enough to induce scarcely twentypersons to look at me as I passed. Twenty! what do I say? no; there werenot twenty anxious to see the king of France. There are not even tenarchers to guard my place of residence: archers, people, guards, all areat the Palais Royal! Why, my good God! have not I, the king, the rightto ask of you all that?"

"Because, " said a voice, replying to his, and which sounded from theother side of the door of the cabinet, "because at the Palais Royallies all the gold, --that is to say, all the power of him who desires toreign. "

Louis turned sharply round. The voice which had pronounced these wordswas that of Anne of Austria. The king started, and advanced towardsher. "I hope, " said he, "your majesty has paid no attention to the vaindeclamations which the solitude and disgust familiar to kings suggest tothe happiest dispositions?"

"I only paid attention to one thing, my son, and that was, that you werecomplaining. "

"Who! I? Not at all, " said Louis XIV. ; "no, in truth, you err, madame. "

"What were you doing, then?"

"I thought I was under the ferule of my professor, and developing asubject of amplification. "

"My son, " replied Anne of Austria, shaking her head, "you are wrong notto trust my word; you are wrong not to grant me your confidence. Aday will come, and perhaps quickly, wherein you will have occasion toremember that axiom:--'Gold is universal power; and they alone are kingswho are all-powerful. '"

"Your intention, " continued the king, "was not, however, to cast blameupon the rich men of this age, was it?

"No, " said the queen, warmly; "no, sire; they who are rich in this age, under your reign, are rich because you have been willing they shouldbe so, and I entertain against them neither malice nor envy; they have, without doubt, served your majesty sufficiently well for your majesty tohave permitted them to reward themselves. That is what I mean to say bythe words for which you reproach me. "

"God forbid, madame, that I should ever reproach my mother withanything!"

"Besides, " continued Anne of Austria, "the Lord never gives the goodsof this world but for a season; the Lord--as correctives to honor andriches--the Lord has placed sufferings, sickness, and death; and noone, " added she, with a melancholy smile, which proved she made theapplication of the funeral precept to herself, "no man can take hiswealth or greatness with him to the grave. It results, therefore, thatthe young gather the abundant harvest prepared for them by the old. "

Louis listened with increased attention to the words which Anne ofAustria, no doubt, pronounced with a view to console him. "Madame, " saidhe, looking earnestly at his mother, "one would almost say in truth thatyou had something else to announce to me. "

"I have absolutely nothing, my son; only you cannot have failed toremark that his eminence the cardinal is very ill. "

Louis looked at his mother, expecting some emotion in her voice, somesorrow in her countenance. The face of Anne of Austria appeared a littlechanged, but that was from sufferings of quite a personal character. Perhaps the alteration was caused by the cancer which had begun toconsume her breast. "Yes, madame, " said the king; "yes, M. De Mazarin isvery ill. "

"And it would be a great loss to the kingdom if God were to summon hiseminence away. Is not that your opinion as well as mine, my son?" saidthe queen. 

"Yes, madame; yes, certainly, it would be a great loss for the kingdom, "said Louis, coloring; "but the peril does not seem to me to be so great;besides, the cardinal is still young. " The king had scarcely ceasedspeaking when an usher lifted the tapestry, and stood with a paper inhis hand, waiting for the king to speak to him. 

"What have you there?" asked the king. 

"A message from M. De Mazarin, " replied the usher. 

"Give it to me, " said the king; and he took the paper. But at the momenthe was about to open it, there was a great noise in the gallery, theante-chamber, and the court. 

"Ah, ah, " said Louis XIV. , who doubtless knew the meaning of thattriple noise. "How could I say there was but one king in France! I wasmistaken, there are two. "

As he spoke or thought thus, the door opened, and the superintendent ofthe finances, Fouquet, appeared before his nominal master. It was hewho made the noise in the ante-chamber, it was his horses that made thenoise in the courtyard. In addition to all this, a loud murmur was heardalong his passage, which did not die away till some time after he hadpassed. It was this murmur which Louis XIV. Regretted so deeply nothearing as he passed, and dying away behind him. 

"He is not precisely a king, as you fancy, " said Anne of Austria to herson; "he is only a man who is much too rich--that is all. "

Whilst saying these words, a bitter feeling gave to these words of thequeen a most hateful expression; whereas the brow of the king, calm andself-possessed, on the contrary, was without the slightest wrinkle. Henodded, therefore, familiarly to Fouquet, whilst he continued to unfoldthe paper given to him by the usher. Fouquet perceived this movement, and with a politeness at once easy and respectful, advanced towards thequeen, so as not to disturb the king. Louis had opened the paper, andyet he did not read it. He listened to Fouquet paying the most charmingcompliments to the queen upon her hand and arm. Anne of Austria's frownrelaxed a little, she even almost smiled. Fouquet perceived that theking, instead of reading, was looking at him; he turned half round, therefore, and while continuing his conversation with the queen, facedthe king. 

"You know, Monsieur Fouquet, " said Louis, "how ill M. Mazarin is?"

"Yes, sire, I know that, " said Fouquet; "in fact, he is very ill. I wasat my country-house of Vaux when the news reached me; and the affairseemed so pressing that I left at once. "

"You left Vaux this evening, monsieur?"

"An hour and a half ago, yes, your majesty, " said Fouquet, consulting awatch, richly ornamented with diamonds. 

"An hour and a half!" said the king, still able to restrain his anger, but not to conceal his astonishment. 

"I understand you, sire. Your majesty doubts my word, and you havereason to do so, but I have really come in that time, though it iswonderful! I received from England three pairs of very fast horses, asI had been assured. They were placed at distances of four leagues apart, and I tried them this evening. They really brought me from Vaux tothe Louvre in an hour and a half, so your majesty sees I have not beencheated. " The queen-mother smiled with something like secret envy. ButFouquet caught her thought. "Thus, madame, " he promptly said, "suchhorses are made for kings, not for subjects; for kings ought never toyield to any one in anything. "

The king looked up. 

"And yet, " interrupted Anne of Austria, "you are not a king, that I knowof, M. Fouquet. "

"Truly not, madame; therefore the horses only await the orders of hismajesty to enter the royal stables; and if I allowed myself to trythem, it was only for fear of offering to the king anything that was notpositively wonderful. "

The king became quite red. 

"You know, Monsieur Fouquet, " said the queen, "that at the court ofFrance it is not the custom for a subject to offer anything to hisking. "

Louis started. 

"I hoped, madame, " said Fouquet, much agitated, "that my love for hismajesty, my incessant desire to please him, would serve to compensatethe want of etiquette. It was not so much a present that I permittedmyself to offer, as the tribute I paid. "

"Thank you, Monsieur Fouquet, " said the king politely, "and I amgratified by your intention, for I love good horses; but you know Iam not very rich; you, who are my superintendent of finances, know itbetter than any one else. I am not able, then, however willing I may be, to purchase such a valuable set of horses. "

Fouquet darted a haughty glance at the queen-mother, who appeared totriumph at the false position in which the minister had placed himself, and replied:--

"Luxury is the virtue of kings, sire: it is luxury which makes themresemble God: it is by luxury they are more than other men. With luxurya king nourishes his subjects, and honors them. Under the mild heatof this luxury of kings springs the luxury of individuals, a source ofriches for the people. His majesty, by accepting the gift of these sixincomparable horses, would stimulate the pride of his own breeders, of Limousin, Perche, and Normandy, and this emulation would havebeen beneficial to all. But the king is silent, and consequently I amcondemned. "

During this speech, Louis was, unconsciously, folding and unfoldingMazarin's paper, upon which he had not cast his eyes. At length heglanced upon it, and uttered a faint cry at reading the first line. 

"What is the matter, my son?" asked the queen, anxiously, and goingtowards the king. 

"From the cardinal, " replied the king, continuing to read; "yes, yes, itis really from him. "

"Is he worse, then?"

"Read!" said the king, passing the parchment to his mother, as if hethought that nothing less than reading would convince Anne of Austria ofa thing so astonishing as was conveyed in that paper. 

Anne of Austria read in turn, and as she read, her eyes sparkled witha joy all the greater from her useless endeavor to hide it, whichattracted the attention of Fouquet. 

"Oh! a regularly drawn up deed of gift, " said she. 

"A gift?" repeated Fouquet. 

"Yes, " said the king, replying pointedly to the superintendent offinances, "yes, at the point of death, monsieur le cardinal makes me adonation of all his wealth. "

"Forty millions, " cried the queen. "Oh, my son! this is very noble onthe part of his eminence, and will silence all malicious rumors; fortymillions scraped together slowly, coming back all in one heap to thetreasury! It is the act of a faithful subject and a good Christian. " Andhaving once more cast her eyes over the act, she restored it to LouisXIV. , whom the announcement of the sum greatly agitated. Fouquet hadtaken some steps backwards and remained silent. The king looked at him, and held the paper out to him, in turn. The superintendent only bestoweda haughty look of a second upon it; then bowing, --"Yes, sire, " said he, "a donation, I see. "

"You must reply to it, my son, " said Anne of Austria; "you must reply toit, and immediately. "

"But how, madame?"

"By a visit to the cardinal. "

"Why, it is but an hour since I left his eminence, " said the king. 

"Write, then, sire. "

"Write!" said the young king, with evident repugnance. 

"Well!" replied Anne of Austria, "it seems to me, my son, that a man whohas just made such a present has a good right to expect to be thankedfor it with some degree of promptitude. " Then turning towards Fouquet:"Is not that likewise your opinion, monsieur?"

"That the present is worth the trouble? Yes madame, " said Fouquet, witha lofty air that did not escape the king. 

"Accept, then, and thank him, " insisted Anne of Austria. 

"What says M. Fouquet?" asked Louis XIV. 

"Does your majesty wish to know my opinion?"

"Yes. "

"Thank him, sire----"

"Ah!" said the queen. 

"But do not accept, " continued Fouquet. 

"And why not?" asked the queen. 

"You have yourself said why, madame, " replied Fouquet; "because kingscannot and ought not to receive presents from their subjects. "

The king remained silent between these two contrary opinions. 

"But forty millions!" said Anne of Austria, in the same tone as that inwhich, at a later period, poor Marie Antoinette replied, "You will tellme as much!"

"I know, " said Fouquet, laughing, "forty millions makes a good roundsum, --such a sum as could almost tempt a royal conscience. "

"But monsieur, " said Anne of Austria, "instead of persuading the kingnot to receive this present, recall to his majesty's mind, you, whoseduty it is, that these forty millions are a fortune to him. "

"It is precisely, madame, because these forty millions would be afortune that I will say to the king, 'Sire, if it be not decent for aking to accept from a subject six horses, worth twenty thousand livres, it would be disgraceful for him to owe a fortune to another subject, more or less scrupulous in the choice of the materials which contributedto the building up of that fortune. '"

"It ill becomes you, monsieur, to give your king a lesson, " said Anneof Austria; "better procure for him forty millions to replace those youmake him lose. "

"The king shall have them whenever he wishes, " said the superintendentof finances, bowing. 

"Yes, by oppressing the people, " said the queen. 

"And were they not oppressed, madame, " replied Fouquet, "when they weremade to sweat the forty millions given by this deed? Furthermore, hismajesty has asked my opinion, I have given it; if his majesty ask myconcurrence, it will be the same. "

"Nonsense! accept, my son, accept, " said Anne of Austria. "You are abovereports and interpretations. "

"Refuse, sire, " said Fouquet. "As long as a king lives, he has no othermeasure but his conscience, --no other judge than his own desires; butwhen dead, he has posterity, which applauds or accuses. "

"Thank you, mother, " replied Louis, bowing respectfully to the queen. "Thank you, Monsieur Fouquet, " said he, dismissing the superintendentcivilly. 

"Do you accept?" asked Anne of Austria, once more. 

"I shall consider of it, " replied he, looking at Fouquet. 

CHAPTER 48. Agony

The day that the deed of gift had been sent to the king, the cardinalcaused himself to be transported to Vincennes. The king and the courtfollowed him thither. The last flashes of this torch still cast splendorenough around to absorb all other lights in its rays. Besides, as ithas been seen, the faithful satellite of his minister, young LouisXIV. , marched to the last minute in accordance with his gravitation. Thedisease, as Guenaud had predicted, had become worse; it was no longer anattack of gout, it was an attack of death; then there was another thingwhich made that agony more agonizing still, --and that was the agitationbrought into his mind by the donation he had sent to the king, andwhich, according to Colbert, the king ought to send back unacceptedto the cardinal. The cardinal had, as we have said, great faith in thepredictions of his secretary; but the sum was a large one, and whatevermight be the genius of Colbert, from time to time the cardinal thoughtto himself that the Theatin also might possibly have been mistaken, andthat there was at least as much chance of his not being damned, as therewas of Louis XIV. Sending back his millions. 

Besides, the longer the donation was in coming back, the more Mazarinthought that forty millions were worth a little risk, particularly ofso hypothetic a thing as the soul. Mazarin, in his character of cardinaland prime minister, was almost an atheist, and quite a materialist. Every time that the door opened, he turned sharply round towards thatdoor, expecting to see the return of his unfortunate donation; then, deceived in his hope, he fell back again with a sigh, and found hispains so much the greater for having forgotten them for an instant. 

Anne of Austria had also followed the cardinal; her heart, though agehad made it selfish, could not help evincing towards the dying mana sorrow which she owed him as a wife, according to some; and as asovereign, according to others. She had, in some sort, put on a mourningcountenance beforehand, and all the court wore it as she did. 

Louis, in order not to show on his face what was passing at the bottomof his heart, persisted in remaining in his own apartments, where hisnurse alone kept him company; the more he saw the approach of the timewhen all constraint would be at an end, the more humble and patienthe was, falling back upon himself, as all strong men do when they formgreat designs, in order to gain more spring at the decisive moment. Extreme unction had been administered to the cardinal, who, faithfulto his habits of dissimulation, struggled against appearances, and evenagainst reality, receiving company in his bed, as if he only sufferedfrom a temporary complaint. 

Guenaud, on his part, preserved profound secrecy; wearied with visitsand questions, he answered nothing but "his eminence is still full ofyouth and strength, but God wills that which He wills, and when He hasdecided that man is to be laid low, he will be laid low. " These words, which he scattered with a sort of discretion, reserve, and preference, were commented upon earnestly by two persons, --the king and thecardinal. Mazarin, notwithstanding the prophecy of Guenaud, still luredhimself with a hope, or rather played his part so well, that the mostcunning, when saying that he lured himself, proved that they were hisdupes. 

Louis, absent from the cardinal for two days; Louis with his eyes fixedupon that same donation which so constantly preoccupied the cardinal;Louis did not exactly know how to make out Mazarin's conduct. The sonof Louis XIII. , following the paternal traditions, had, up to that time, been so little of a king that, whilst ardently desiring royalty, hedesired it with that terror which always accompanies the unknown. Thus, having formed his resolution, which, besides, he communicated to nobody, he determined to have an interview with Mazarin. It was Anne of Austria, who, constant in her attendance upon the cardinal, first heard thisproposition of the king's, and transmitted it to the dying man, whom itgreatly agitated. For what purpose could Louis wish for an interview?Was it to return the deed, as Colbert had said he would? Was it to keepit, after thanking him, as Mazarin thought he would? Nevertheless, asthe dying man felt that the uncertainty increased his torments, he didnot hesitate an instant. 

"His majesty will be welcome, --yes, very welcome, " cried he, making asign to Colbert, who was seated at the foot of the bed, and which thelatter understood perfectly. "Madame, " continued Mazarin, "will yourmajesty be good enough to assure the king yourself of the truth of whatI have just said?"

Anne of Austria rose; she herself was anxious to have the question ofthe forty millions settled--the question which seemed to lie heavy onthe mind of every one. Anne of Austria went out; Mazarin made a greateffort, and, raising himself up towards Colbert: "Well, Colbert, " saidhe, "two days have passed away--two mortal days--and, you see, nothinghas been returned from yonder. "

"Patience, my lord, " said Colbert. 

"Are you mad, you wretch? You advise me to have patience! Oh, in sadtruth, Colbert, you are laughing at me. I am dying, and you call out tome to wait!"

"My lord, " said Colbert, with his habitual coolness, "it is impossiblethat things should not come out as I have said. His majesty is coming tosee you, and no doubt he brings back the deed himself. "

"Do you think so? Well, I, on the contrary, am sure that his majesty iscoming to thank me. "

At this moment Anne of Austria returned. On her way to the apartments ofher son she had met with a new empiric. This was a powder which was saidto have power to save the cardinal; and she brought a portion of thispowder with her. But this was not what Mazarin expected; therefore hewould not even look at it, declaring that life was not worth thepains that were taken to preserve it. But, whilst professing thisphilosophical axiom, his long-confined secret escaped him at last. 

"That, madame, " said he, "that is not the interesting part of mysituation. I made, two days ago, a little donation to the king; up tothis time, from delicacy, no doubt, his majesty has not condescendedto say anything about it; but the time for explanation is come, and Iimplore your majesty to tell me if the king has made up his mind on thatmatter. "

Anne of Austria was about to reply, when Mazarin stopped her. 

"The truth, madame, " said he--"in the name of Heaven, the truth! Do notflatter a dying man with a hope that may prove vain. " There he stopped, a look from Colbert telling him that he was on a wrong tack. 

"I know, " said Anne of Austria, taking the cardinal's hand, "I know thatyou have generously made, not a little donation, as you modestly callit, but a magnificent gift. I know how painful it would be to you if theking----"

Mazarin listened, dying as he was, as ten living men could not havelistened. 

"If the king----" replied he. 

"If the king, " continued Anne of Austria, "should not freely accept whatyou offer so nobly. "

Mazarin allowed himself to sink back upon his pillow like Pantaloon;that is to say, with all the despair of a man who bows before thetempest; but he still preserved sufficient strength and presence ofmind to cast upon Colbert one of those looks which are well worth tensonnets, which is to say, ten long poems. 

"Should you not, " added the queen, "have considered the refusal ofthe king as a sort of insult?" Mazarin rolled his head about upon hispillow, without articulating a syllable. The queen was deceived, orfeigned to be deceived, by this demonstration. 

"Therefore, " resumed she, "I have circumvented him with good counsels;and as certain minds, jealous, no doubt, of the glory you are about toacquire by this generosity, have endeavored to prove to the king that heought not to accept this donation, I have struggled in your favor, andso well have I struggled, that you will not have, I hope, that distressto undergo. "

"Ah!" murmured Mazarin, with languishing eyes, "ah! that is a service Ishall never forget for a single minute of the few hours I still have tolive. "

"I must admit, " continued the queen, "that it was not without trouble Irendered it to your eminence. "

"Ah, peste! I believe that. Oh! oh!"

"Good God! what is the matter?"

"I am burning!"

"Do you suffer much?"

"As much as one of the damned. "

Colbert would have liked to sink through the floor. 

"So, then, " resumed Mazarin, "your majesty thinks that the king----" hestopped several seconds--"that the king is coming here to offer me somesmall thanks?"

"I think so, " said the queen. Mazarin annihilated Colbert with his lastlook. 

At that moment the ushers announced that the king was in theante-chambers, which were filled with people. This announcement produceda stir of which Colbert took advantage to escape by the door of theruelle. Anne of Austria arose, and awaited her son, standing. Louis IV. Appeared at the threshold of the door, with his eyes fixed upon thedying man, who did not even think it worth while to notice that majestyfrom whom he thought he had nothing more to expect. An usher placedan armchair close to the bed. Louis bowed to his mother, then to thecardinal, and sat down. The queen took a seat in her turn. 

Then, as the king looked behind him, the usher understood that look andmade a sign to the courtiers who filled up the doorway to go out, which they instantly did. Silence fell upon the chamber with the velvetcurtains. The king, still very young, and very timid in the presence ofhim who had been his master from his birth, still respected him much, particularly now, in the supreme majesty of death. He did not dare, therefore, to begin the conversation, feeling that every word must haveits weight not only upon things of this world, but of the next. As tothe cardinal, at that moment he had but one thought--his donation. Itwas not physical pain which gave him that air of despondency, and thatlugubrious look; it was the expectation of the thanks that were aboutto issue from the king's mouth, and cut off all hope of restitution. Mazarin was the first to break the silence. "Is your majesty come tomake any stay at Vincennes?" said he. 

Louis made an affirmative sign with his head. 

"That is a gracious favor, " continued Mazarin, "granted to a dying man, and which will render death less painful to him. "

"I hope, " replied the king, "I am come to visit, not a dying man, but asick man, susceptible of cure. "

Mazarin replied by a movement of the head. 

"Your majesty is very kind; but I know more than you on that subject. The last visit, sire, " said he, "the last visit. "

"If it were so, monsieur le cardinal, " said Louis, "I would come a lasttime to ask the counsels of a guide to whom I owe everything. "

Anne of Austria was a woman; she could not restrain her tears. Louisshowed himself much affected, and Mazarin still more than his twoguests, but from very different motives. Here the silence returned. Thequeen wiped her eyes, and the king resumed his firmness. 

"I was saying, " continued the king, "that I owed much to your eminence. "The eyes of the cardinal devoured the king, for he felt the great momenthad come. "And, " continued Louis, "the principal object of my visit wasto offer you very sincere thanks for the last evidence of friendship youhave kindly sent me. "

The cheeks of the cardinal became sunken, his lips partially opened, andthe most lamentable sigh he had ever uttered was about to issue from hischest. 

"Sire, " said he, "I shall have despoiled my poor family; I shall haveruined all who belong to me, which may be imputed to me as an error;but, at least, it shall not be said of me that I have refused tosacrifice everything to my king. "

Anne of Austria's tears flowed afresh. 

"My dear Monsieur Mazarin, " said the king, in a more serious tone thanmight have been expected from his youth, "you have misunderstood me, apparently. "

Mazarin raised himself upon his elbow. 

"I have no purpose to despoil your dear family, nor to ruin yourservants. Oh, no, that must never be!"

"Humph!" thought Mazarin, "he is going to restore me some scraps; let usget the largest piece we can. "

"The king is going to be foolishly affected and play the generous, "thought the queen; "he must not be allowed to impoverish himself; suchan opportunity for getting a fortune will never occur again. "

"Sire, " said the cardinal, aloud, "my family is very numerous, and mynieces will be destitute when I am gone. "

"Oh, " interrupted the queen, eagerly, "have no uneasiness with respectto your family, dear Monsieur Mazarin; we have no friends dearer thanyour friends; your nieces shall be my children, the sisters of hismajesty; and if a favor be distributed in France, it shall be to thoseyou love. "

"Smoke!" thought Mazarin, who knew better than any one the faith thatcan be put in the promises of kings. Louis read the dying man's thoughtin his face. 

"Be comforted, my dear Monsieur Mazarin, " said he, with a half-smile, sad beneath its irony; "the Mesdemoiselles de Mancini will lose, inlosing you, their most precious good; but they shall none the less bethe richest heiresses of France; and since you have been kind enough togive me their dowry"--the cardinal was panting--"I restore it tothem, " continued Louis, drawing from his breast and holding towards thecardinal's bed the parchment which contained the donation that, duringtwo days, had kept alive such tempests in the mind of Mazarin. 

"What did I tell you, my lord?" murmured in the alcove a voice whichpassed away like a breath. 

"Your majesty returns my donation!" cried Mazarin, so disturbed by joyas to forget his character of a benefactor. 

"Your majesty rejects the forty millions!" cried Anne of Austria, sostupefied as to forget her character of an afflicted wife, or queen. 

"Yes, my lord cardinal; yes, madame, " replied Louis XIV. , tearingthe parchment which Mazarin had not yet ventured to clutch; "yes, I annihilate this deed, which despoiled a whole family. The wealthacquired by his eminence in my service is his own wealth and not mine. "

"But, sire, does your majesty reflect, " said Anne of Austria, "that youhave not ten thousand crowns in your coffers?"

"Madame, I have just performed my first royal action, and I hope it willworthily inaugurate my reign. "

"Ah! sire, you are right!" cried Mazarin; "that is truly great--that istruly generous which you have just done. " And he looked, one after theother, at the pieces of the act spread over his bed, to assure himselfthat it was the original and not a copy that had been torn. Atlength his eyes fell upon the fragment which bore his signature, andrecognizing it, he sunk back on his bolster in a swoon. Anne of Austria, without strength to conceal her regret, raised her hands and eyes towardheaven. 

"Oh! sire, " cried Mazarin, "may you be blessed! My God! May you bebeloved by all my family. Per Baccho! If ever any of those belonging tome should cause your displeasure, sire, only frown, and I will rise frommy tomb!"

This pantalonnade did not produce all the effect Mazarin had countedupon. Louis had already passed to considerations of a higher nature, andas to Anne of Austria, unable to bear, without abandoning herself to theanger she felt burning within her, the magnanimity of her son and thehypocrisy of the cardinal, she arose and left the chamber, heedlessof thus betraying the extent of her grief. Mazarin saw all this, andfearing that Louis XIV. Might repent his decision, in order to drawattention another way he began to cry out, as, at a later period, Scapinwas to cry out, in that sublime piece of pleasantry with which themorose and grumbling Boileau dared to reproach Moliere. His cries, however, by degrees, became fainter; and when Anne of Austria left theapartment, they ceased altogether. 

"Monsieur le cardinal, " said the king, "have you any recommendations tomake to me?"

"Sire, " replied Mazarin, "you are already wisdom itself, prudencepersonified; of your generosity I shall not venture to speak; that whichyou have just done exceeds all that the most generous men of antiquityor of modern times have ever done. "

The king received this praise coldly. 

"So you confine yourself, " said he, "to your thanks--and yourexperience, much more extensive than my wisdom, my prudence, or mygenerosity, does not furnish you with a single piece of friendly adviceto guide my future. "

Mazarin reflected for a moment. "You have just done much for me, sire, "said he, "that is, for my family. "

"Say no more about that, " said the king. 

"Well!" continued Mazarin, "I shall give you something in exchange forthese forty millions you have refused so royally. "

Louis XIV. Indicated by a movement that these flatteries weredispleasing to him. "I shall give you a piece of advice, " continuedMazarin; "yes, a piece of advice--advice more precious than the fortymillions. "

"My lord cardinal!" interrupted Louis. 

"Sire, listen to this advice. "

"I am listening. "

"Come nearer, sire, for I am weak!--nearer, sire, nearer!"

The king bent over the dying man. "Sire, " said Mazarin, in so low a tonethat the breath of his words arrived only like a recommendation fromthe tomb in the attentive ears of the king--"Sire, never have a primeminister. "

Louis drew back astonished. The advice was a confession--a treasure, infact, was that sincere confession of Mazarin. The legacy of the cardinalto the young king was composed of six words only, but those six words, as Mazarin had said, were worth forty millions. Louis remained foran instant bewildered. As for Mazarin, he appeared only to have saidsomething quite natural. A little scratching was heard along thecurtains of the alcove. Mazarin understood: "Yes, yes!" cried he warmly, "yes, sire, I recommend to you a wise man, an honest man, and a cleverman. "

"Tell me his name, my lord. "

"His name is yet almost unknown, sire; it is M. Colbert, my attendant. Oh! try him, " added Mazarin, in an earnest voice; "all that he haspredicted has come to pass, he has a safe glance, he is never mistakeneither in things or in men--which is more surprising still. Sire, I oweyou much, but I think I acquit myself of all towards you in giving youM. Colbert. "

"So be it, " said Louis, faintly, for, as Mazarin had said, the name ofColbert was quite unknown to him, and he thought the enthusiasm of thecardinal partook of the delirium of a dying man. The cardinal sank backon his pillows. 

"For the present, adieu, sire! adieu, " murmured Mazarin. "I am tired, and I have yet a rough journey to take before I present myself to my newMaster. Adieu, sire!"

The young king felt the tears rise to his eyes; he bent over the dyingman, already half a corpse, and then hastily retired. 

CHAPTER 49. The First Appearance of Colbert

The whole night was passed in anguish, common to the dying man and tothe king: the dying man expected his deliverance, the king awaited hisliberty. Louis did not go to bed. An hour after leaving the chamberof the cardinal, he learned that the dying man, recovering a littlestrength, had insisted upon being dressed, adorned and painted, andseeing the ambassadors. Like Augustus, he no doubt considered the worlda great stage, and was desirous of playing out the last act of thecomedy. Anne of Austria reappeared no more in the cardinal's apartments;she had nothing more to do there. Propriety was the pretext for herabsence. On his part, the cardinal did not ask for her: the advice thequeen had given her son rankled in his heart. 

Towards midnight, while still painted, Mazarin's mortal agony came on. He had revised his will, and as this will was the exact expression ofhis wishes, and as he feared that some interested influence might takeadvantage of his weakness to make him change something in it, he hadgiven orders to Colbert, who walked up and down the corridor which ledto the cardinal's bed-chamber, like the most vigilant of sentinels. Theking, shut up in his own apartment, dispatched his nurse every hour toMazarin's chamber, with orders to bring him back the exact bulletinof the cardinal's state. After having heard that Mazarin was dressed, painted, and had seen the ambassadors, Louis heard that the prayersfor the dying were being read for the cardinal. At one o'clock in themorning, Guenaud had administered the last remedy. This was a relic ofthe old customs of that fencing time, which was about to disappear togive place to another time, to believe that death could be kept offby some good secret thrust. Mazarin, after having taken the remedy, respired freely for nearly ten minutes. He immediately gave orders thatthe news should be spread everywhere of a fortunate crisis. The king, onlearning this, felt as if a cold sweat were passing over his brow;--hehad had a glimpse of the light of liberty; slavery appeared to him moredark and less acceptable than ever. But the bulletin which followedentirely changed the face of things. Mazarin could no longer breatheat all, and could scarcely follow the prayers which the cure ofSaint-Nicholas-des-Champs recited near him. The king resumed hisagitated walk about his chamber, and consulted, as he walked, severalpapers drawn from a casket of which he alone had the key. A third timethe nurse returned. M. De Mazarin had just uttered a joke, and hadordered his "Flora, " by Titian, to be revarnished. At length, towardstwo o'clock in the morning, the king could no longer resist hisweariness: he had not slept for twenty-four hours. Sleep, so powerfulat his age, overcame him for about an hour. But he did not go to bed forthat hour, he slept in a fauteuil. About four o'clock his nurse awokehim by entering the room. 

"Well?" asked the king. 

"Well, my dear sire, " said the nurse, clasping her hands with an air ofcommiseration. "Well, he is dead!"

The king arose at a bound, as if a steel spring had been applied to hislegs. "Dead!" cried he. 

"Alas! yes. "

"Is it quite certain?"

"Yes. "

"Official?"

"Yes. "

"Has the news been made public?"

"Not yet. "

"Who told you, then, that the cardinal was dead?"

"M. Colbert. "

"M. Colbert?"

"Yes. "

"And was he sure of what he said?"

"He came out of the chamber, and had held a glass for some minutesbefore the cardinal's lips. "

"Ah!" said the king. "And what is become of M. Colbert?"

"He has just left his eminence's chamber. "

"Where is he?"

"He followed me. "

"So that he is----"

"Sire, waiting at your door, till it shall be your good pleasure toreceive him. "

Louis ran to the door, opened it himself, and perceived Colbert standingwaiting in the passage. The king started at sight of this statue, allclothed in black. Colbert, bowing with profound respect, advanced twosteps towards his majesty. Louis re-entered his chamber, making Colberta sign to follow. Colbert entered; Louis dismissed the nurse, who closedthe door as she went out. Colbert remained modestly standing near thatdoor. 

"What do you come to announce to me, monsieur?" said Louis, very muchtroubled at being thus surprised in his private thoughts, which he couldnot completely conceal. 

"That monsieur le cardinal has just expired, sire; and that I bring yourmajesty his last adieu. "

The king remained pensive for a minute; and during that minute he lookedattentively at Colbert;--it was evident that the cardinal's last wordswere in his mind. "Are you, then, M. Colbert?" asked he. 

"Yes, sire. "

"His faithful servant, as his eminence himself told me?"

"Yes, sire. "

"The depositary of many of his secrets?"

"Of all of them. "

"The friends and servants of his eminence will be dear to me, monsieur, and I shall take care that you are well placed in my employment. "

Colbert bowed. 

"You are a financier, monsieur, I believe?"

"Yes, sire. "

"And did monsieur le cardinal employ you in his stewardship?"

"I had that honor, sire. "

"You never did anything personally for my household, I believe?"

"Pardon me, sire, it was I who had the honor of giving monsieur lecardinal the idea of an economy which puts three hundred thousand francsa year into your majesty's coffers. "

"What economy was that, monsieur?" asked Louis XIV. 

"Your majesty knows that the hundred Swiss have silver lace on each sideof their ribbons?"

"Doubtless. "

"Well, sire, it was I who proposed that imitation silver lace shouldbe placed upon these ribbons, it could not be detected, and a hundredthousand crowns serve to feed a regiment during six months; and is theprice of ten thousand good muskets or the value of a vessel of ten guns, ready for sea. "

"That is true, " said Louis XIV. , considering more attentively, "and, ma foi! that was a well placed economy; besides, it was ridiculous forsoldiers to wear the same lace as noblemen. "

"I am happy to be approved of by your majesty. "

"Is that the only appointment you held about the cardinal?" asked theking. 

"It was I who was appointed to examine the accounts of thesuperintendent, sire. "

"Ah!" said Louis, who was about to dismiss Colbert, but whom that wordstopped; "ah! it was you whom his eminence had charged to control M. Fouquet, was it? And the result of the examination?"

"Is that there is a deficit, sire; but if your majesty will permitme----"

"Speak, M. Colbert. "

"I ought to give your majesty some explanations. "

"Not at all, monsieur, it is you who have controlled these accounts, give me the result. "

"That is very easily done, sire; emptiness everywhere, money nowhere. "

"Beware, monsieur; you are roughly attacking the administration of M. Fouquet, who, nevertheless, I have heard say, is an able man. "

Colbert colored, and then became pale, for he felt that from that minutehe entered upon a struggle with a man whose power almost equaled thesway of him who had just died. "Yes, sire, a very able man, " repeatedColbert, bowing. 

"But if M. Fouquet is an able man, and, in spite of that ability, ifmoney be wanting, whose fault is it?"

"I do not accuse, sire, I verify. "

"That is well; make out your accounts, and present them to me. There isa deficit, you say? A deficit may be temporary; credit returns and fundsare restored. "

"No, sire. "

"Upon this year, perhaps, I understand that; but upon next year?"

"Next year is eaten as bare as the current year. "

"But the year after, then?"

"Will be just like next year. "

"What do you tell me, Monsieur Colbert?"

"I say there are four years engaged beforehand. 

"They must have a loan, then. "

"They must have three, sire. "

"I will create offices to make them resign, and the salary of the postsshall be paid into the treasury. "

"Impossible, sire, for there have already been creations upon creationsof offices, the provisions of which are given in blank, so that thepurchasers enjoy them without filling them. That is why your majestycannot make them resign. Further, upon each agreement M. Fouquet hasmade an abatement of a third, so that the people have been plundered, without your majesty profiting by it. Let your majesty set down clearlyyour thought, and tell me what you wish me to explain. "

"You are right, clearness is what you wish, is it not?"

"Yes, sire, clearness. God is God above all things, because He madelight. "

"Well, for example, " resumed Louis XIV. , "if today, the cardinal beingdead, and I being king, suppose I wanted money?"

"Your majesty would not have any. "

"Oh! that is strange, monsieur! How! my superintendent would not find meany money?"

Colbert shook his large head. 

"How is that?" said the king, "is the income of the state so much indebt that there is no longer any revenue?"

"Yes, sire. "

The king started. "Explain me that, M. Colbert, " added he with a frown. "If it be so, I will get together the ordonnances to obtain a dischargefrom the holders, a liquidation at a cheap rate. "

"Impossible, for the ordonnances have been converted into bills, whichbills, for the convenience of return and facility of transaction, are divided into so many parts that the originals can no longer berecognized. "

Louis, very much agitated, walked about, still frowning. "But, if thisis as you say, Monsieur Colbert, " said he, stopping all at once, "Ishall be ruined before I begin to reign. "

"You are, in fact, sire, " said the impassible caster-up of figures. 

"Well, but yet, monsieur, the money is somewhere?"

"Yes, sire, and even as a beginning, I bring your majesty a note offunds which M. Le Cardinal Mazarin was not willing to set down in histestament, neither in any act whatever, but which he confided to me. "

"To you?"

"Yes, sire, with an injunction to remit it to your majesty. "

"What! besides the forty millions of the testament?"

"Yes, sire. "

"M. De Mazarin had still other funds?"

Colbert bowed. 

"Why, that man was a gulf!" murmured the king. "M. De Mazarin on oneside, M. Fouquet on the other, --more than a hundred millions perhapsbetween them! No wonder my coffers should be empty!" Colbert waitedwithout stirring. 

"And is the sum you bring me worth the trouble?" asked the king. 

"Yes, sire, it is a round sum. "

"Amounting to how much?"

"To thirteen millions of livres, sire. "

"Thirteen millions!" cried Louis, trembling with joy: "do you saythirteen millions, Monsieur Colbert?"

"I said thirteen millions, yes, your majesty. "

"Of which everybody is ignorant?"

"Of which everybody is ignorant. "

"Which are in your hands?"

"In my hands, yes, sire. "

"And which I can have?"

"Within two hours, sire. "

"But where are they, then?"

"In the cellar of a house which the cardinal possessed in the city, andwhich he was so kind as to leave me by a particular clause of his will. "

"You are acquainted with the cardinal's will, then?"

"I have a duplicate of it, signed by his hand. "

"A duplicate?"

"Yes, sire, and here it is. " Colbert drew the deed quietly from hispocket and showed it to the king. The king read the article relative tothe donation of the house. 

"But, " said he, "there is no question here but of the house; there isnothing said of the money. "

"Your pardon, sire, it is in my conscience. "

"And Monsieur Mazarin has intrusted it to you?"

"Why not, sire?"

"He! a man mistrustful of everybody?"

"He was not so of me, sire, as your majesty may perceive. "

Louis fixed his eyes with admiration upon that vulgar but expressiveface. "You are an honest man, M. Colbert, " said the king. 

"That is not a virtue, it is a duty, " replied Colbert, coolly. 

"But, " added Louis, "does not the money belong to the family?"

"If this money belonged to the family it would be disposed of in thetestament, as the rest of his fortune is. If this money belonged to thefamily, I, who drew up the deed of donation in favor of your majesty, should have added the sum of thirteen millions to that of forty millionswhich was offered to you. "

"How!" exclaimed Louis XIV. , "was it you who drew up the deed ofdonation?"

"Yes, sire. "

"And yet the cardinal was attached to you?" added the king ingenuously. 

"I had assured his eminence you would by no means accept the gift, " saidColbert in that same quiet manner we have described, and which, even inthe common habits of life, had something solemn in it. 

Louis passed his hand over his brow. "Oh! how young I am, " murmured he, "to have the command of men. "

Colbert waited the end of this monologue. He saw Louis raise his head. "At what hour shall I send the money to your majesty?" asked he. 

"To-night, at eleven o'clock; I desire that no one may know that Ipossess this money. "

Colbert made no more reply than if the thing had not been said to him. 

"Is the amount in ingots, or coined gold?"

"In coined gold, sire. "

"That is well. "

"Where shall I send it?"

"To the Louvre. Thank you, M. Colbert. "

Colbert bowed and retired. "Thirteen millions!" exclaimed Louis, as soonas he was alone. "This must be a dream!" Then he allowed his head tosink between his hands, as if he were really asleep. But at the end of amoment he arose, and opening the window violently he bathed his burningbrow in the keen morning air, which brought to his senses the scent ofthe trees, and the perfume of flowers. A splendid dawn was gilding thehorizon, and the first rays of the sun bathed in flame the young king'sbrow. "This is the dawn of my reign, " murmured Louis XIV. "It's apresage sent by the Almighty. "

CHAPTER 50. The First Day of the Royalty of Louis XIV

In the morning, the news of the death of the cardinal was spread throughthe castle, and thence speedily reached the city. The ministers Fouquet, Lyonne, and Letellier entered la salle des seances, to hold a council. The king sent for them immediately. "Messieurs, " said he, "as long asmonsieur le cardinal lived, I allowed him to govern my affairs; but nowI mean to govern them myself. You will give me your advice when I askit. You may go. "

The ministers looked at each other with surprise. If they concealed asmile it was with a great effort, for they knew that the prince, broughtup in absolute ignorance of business, by this took upon himself a burdenmuch too heavy for his strength. Fouquet took leave of his colleaguesupon the stairs, saying:--"Messieurs! there will be so much less laborfor us. "

And he climbed gayly into his carriage. The others, a little uneasyat the turn things had taken, went back to Paris together. Towards teno'clock the king repaired to the apartment of his mother, with whomhe had a long and private conversation. After dinner, he got intohis carriage, and went straight to the Louvre. There he received muchcompany, and took a degree of pleasure in remarking the hesitation ofeach, and the curiosity of all. Towards evening he ordered the doors ofthe Louvre to be closed, with the exception of one only, which opened onthe quay. He placed on duty at this point two hundred Swiss, who did notspeak a word of French, with orders to admit all who carried packages, but no others; and by no means to allow any one to go out. At eleveno'clock precisely, he heard the rolling of a heavy carriage under thearch, then of another, then of a third; after which the gate grated uponits hinges to be closed. Soon after, somebody scratched with his nail atthe door of the cabinet. The king opened it himself, and beheld Colbert, whose first word was this:--"The money is in your majesty's cellar. "

The king then descended and went himself to see the barrels of specie, in gold and silver, which, under the direction of Colbert, four men hadjust rolled into a cellar of which the king had given Colbert the keyin the morning. This review completed, Louis returned to his apartments, followed by Colbert, who had not apparently warmed with one ray ofpersonal satisfaction. 

"Monsieur, " said the king, "what do you wish that I should give you, asa recompense for this devotedness and probity?"

"Absolutely nothing, sire. "

"How nothing? Not even an opportunity of serving me?"

"If your majesty were not to furnish me with that opportunity, I shouldnot the less serve you. It is impossible for me not to be the bestservant of the king. "

"You shall be intendant of the finances, M. Colbert. "

"But there is already a superintendent, sire. "

"I know that. "

"Sire, the superintendent of the finances is the most powerful man inthe kingdom. "

"Ah!" cried Louis, coloring, "do you think so?"

"He will crush me in a week, sire. Your majesty gives me a controlefor which strength is indispensable. An intendant under asuperintendent, --that is inferiority. "

"You want support--you do not reckon upon me?"

"I had the honor of telling your majesty that during the lifetime ofM. De Mazarin, M. Fouquet was the second man in the kingdom; now M. DeMazarin is dead, M. Fouquet is become the first. "

"Monsieur, I agree to what you told me of all things up to to-day; butto-morrow, please to remember, I shall no longer suffer it. "

"Then I shall be of no use to your majesty?"

"You are already, since you fear to compromise yourself in serving me. "

"I only fear to be placed so that I cannot serve your majesty. "

"What do you wish, then?"

"I wish your majesty to allow me assistance in the labors of the officeof intendant. "

"The post would lose its value. "

"It would gain in security. "

"Choose your colleagues. "

"Messieurs Breteuil, Marin, Harvard. "

"To-morrow the ordonnance shall appear. 

"Sire, I thank you. "

"Is that all you ask?

"No, sire, one thing more. "

"What is that?"

"Allow me to compose a chamber of justice. "

"What would this chamber of justice do?"

"Try the farmers-general and contractors, who, during ten years, havebeen robbing the state. "

"Well, but what would you do with them?"

"Hang two or three, and that would make the rest disgorge. "

"I cannot commence my reign with executions, Monsieur Colbert. "

"On the contrary, sire, you had better, in order not to have to end withthem. "

The king made no reply. "Does your majesty consent?" said Colbert. 

"I will reflect upon it, monsieur. "

"It will be too late when reflection may be made. "

"Why?"

"Because you have to deal with people stronger than ourselves, if theyare warned. "

"Compose that chamber of justice, monsieur. "

"I will, sire. "

"Is that all?"

"No, sire; there is still another important affair. What rights doesyour majesty attach to this office of intendant?"

"Well--I do not know--the customary ones. "

"Sire, I desire that this office be invested with the right of readingthe correspondence with England. "

"Impossible, monsieur, for that correspondence is kept from the council;monsieur le cardinal himself carried it on. "

"I thought your majesty had this morning declared that there should nolonger be a council?"

"Yes, I said so. "

"Let your majesty then have the goodness to read all the lettersyourself, particularly those from England; I hold strongly to thisarticle. "

"Monsieur, you shall have that correspondence, and render me an accountof it. "

"Now, sire, what shall I do with respect to the finances?"

"Everything M. Fouquet has not done. "

"That is all I ask of your majesty. Thanks, sire, I depart in peace;"and at these words he took his leave. Louis watched his departure. Colbert was not yet a hundred paces from the Louvre when the kingreceived a courier from England. After having looked at and examined theenvelope, the king broke the seal precipitately, and found a letter fromCharles II. The following is what the English prince wrote to his royalbrother:--

"Your majesty must be rendered very uneasy by the illness of M. LeCardinal Mazarin; but the excess of danger can only prove of service toyou. The cardinal is given over by his physician. I thank you for thegracious reply you have made to my communication touching the PrincessHenrietta, my sister, and, in a week, the princess and her court willset out for Paris. It is gratifying to me to acknowledge the fraternalfriendship you have evinced towards me, and to call you, more justlythan ever, my brother. It is gratifying to me, above everything, toprove to your majesty how much I am interested in all that may pleaseyou. You are having Belle-Isle-en-Mer secretly fortified. That is wrong. We shall never be at war against each other. That measure does not makeme uneasy, it makes me sad. You are spending useless millions, tell yourministers so; and rest assured that I am well informed; render me thesame service, my brother, if occasion offers. "

The king rang his bell violently, and his valet de chambre appeared. "Monsieur Colbert is just gone; he cannot be far off. Let him be calledback!" exclaimed he. 

The valet was about to execute the order, when the king stopped him. 

"No, " said he, "no, I see the whole scheme of that man. Belle-Islebelongs to M. Fouquet; Belle-Isle is being fortified: that is aconspiracy on the part of M. Fouquet. The discovery of that conspiracyis the ruin of the superintendent, and that discovery is the result ofthe correspondence with England: this is why Colbert wished to have thatcorrespondence. Oh! but I cannot place all my dependence upon that man;he has a good head, but I must have an arm!" Louis, all at once, uttereda joyful cry. "I had, " said he, "a lieutenant of musketeers!"

"Yes, sire--Monsieur d'Artagnan. "

"He quitted the service for a time. "

"Yes, sire. "

"Let him be found, and be here to-morrow the first thing in themorning. "

The valet de chambre bowed and went out. 

"Thirteen millions in my cellar, " said the king; "Colbert carrying mypurse and D'Artagnan my sword--I am king. "

CHAPTER 51. A Passion

The day of his arrival, on returning from the Palais Royal, Athos, as wehave seen, went straight to his hotel in the Rue Saint-Honore. He therefound the Vicomte de Bragelonne waiting for him in his chamber, chattingwith Grimaud. It was not an easy thing to talk with this old servant. Two men only possessed the secret, Athos and D'Artagnan. The firstsucceeded, because Grimaud sought to make him speak himself; D'Artagnan, on the contrary, because he knew how to make Grimaud talk. Raoul wasoccupied in making him describe the voyage to England, and Grimaud hadrelated it in all its details, with a limited number of gestures andeight words, neither more nor less. He had, at first, indicated by anundulating movement of his hand, that his master and he had crossed thesea. "Upon some expedition?" Raoul had asked. 

Grimaud by bending down his head had answered, "Yes. "

"When monsieur le comte incurred much danger?" asked Raoul. 

"Neither too much nor too little, " was replied by a shrug of theshoulders. 

"But, still, what sort of danger?" insisted Raoul. 

Grimaud pointed to the sword; he pointed to the fire and to a musketthat was hanging on the wall. 

"Monsieur le comte had an enemy there, then?" cried Raoul. 

"Monk, " replied Grimaud. 

"It is strange, " continued Raoul, "that monsieur le comte persists inconsidering me a novice, and not allowing me to partake the honor anddanger of his adventure. "

Grimaud smiled. It was at this moment Athos came in. The host waslighting him up the stairs, and Grimaud, recognizing the step of hismaster, hastened to meet him, which cut short the conversation. ButRaoul was launched on the sea of interrogatories, and did notstop. Taking both hands of the comte, with warm, but respectfultenderness, --"How is it, monsieur, " said he, "that you have set out upona dangerous voyage without bidding me adieu, without commanding the aidof my sword, of myself, who ought to be your support, now I have thestrength; whom you have brought up like a man? Ah! monsieur, can youexpose me to the cruel trial of never seeing you again?"

"Who told you, Raoul, " said the comte, placing his cloak and hat in thehands of Grimaud, who had unbuckled his sword, "who told you that myvoyage was a dangerous one?"

"I, " said Grimaud. 

"And why did you do so?" said Athos, sternly. 

Grimaud was embarrassed; Raoul came to his assistance, by answering forhim. "It is natural, monsieur that our good Grimaud should tell me thetruth in what concerns you. By whom should you be loved and supported, if not by me?"

Athos did not reply. He made a friendly motion to Grimaud, which senthim out of the room, he then seated himself in a fauteuil, whilst Raoulremained standing before him. 

"But is it true, " continued Raoul, "that your voyage was an expedition, and that steel and fire threatened you?"

"Say no more about that, vicomte, " said Athos mildly. "I set outhastily, it is true: but the service of King Charles II. Required aprompt departure. As to your anxiety, I thank you for it, and I knowthat I can depend upon you. You have not wanted for anything, vicomte, in my absence, have you?"

"No, monsieur, thank you. "

"I left orders with Blaisois to pay you a hundred pistoles, if youshould stand in need of money. "

"Monsieur, I have not seen Blaisois. "

"You have been without money, then?"

"Monsieur, I had thirty pistoles left from the sale of the horses I tookin my last campaign, and M. Le Prince had the kindness to allow me towin two hundred pistoles at his play-table three months ago. "

"Do you play? I don't like that, Raoul. "

"I never play, monsieur; it was M. Le Prince who ordered me to hold hiscards at Chantilly--one night when a courier came to him from the king. I won, and M. Le Prince commanded me to take the stakes. "

"Is that a practice in the household, Raoul?" asked Athos with a frown. 

"Yes, monsieur; every week M. Le Prince affords, upon one occasion oranother, a similar advantage to one of his gentlemen. There are fiftygentlemen in his highness's household; it was my turn. "

"Very well! You went into Spain, then?"

"Yes, monsieur, I made a very delightful and interesting journey. "

"You have been back a month, have you not?"

"Yes, monsieur. "

"And in the course of that month?"

"In that month----"

"What have you done?"

"My duty, monsieur. "

"Have you not been home, to La Fere?"

Raoul colored. Athos looked at him with a fixed but tranquil expression. 

"You would be wrong not to believe me, " said Raoul. "I feel that Icolored, and in spite of myself. The question you did me the honorto ask me is of a nature to raise in me much emotion. I color, then, because I am agitated, not because I meditate a falsehood. "

"I know, Raoul, you never lie. "

"No, monsieur. "

"Besides, my young friend, you would be wrong; what I wanted to say----"

"I know quite well, monsieur. You would ask me if I have not been toBlois?"

"Exactly so. "

"I have not been there; I have not even seen the person to whom youallude. "

Raoul's voice trembled as he pronounced these words. Athos, a sovereignjudge in all matters of delicacy, immediately added, "Raoul, you answerwith a painful feeling; you are unhappy. "

"Very, monsieur; you have forbidden me to go to Blois, or to seeMademoiselle de la Valliere again. " Here the young man stopped. Thatdear name, so delightful to pronounce, made his heart bleed, although sosweet upon his lips. 

"And I have acted rightly, Raoul, " Athos hastened to reply. "I amneither an unjust nor a barbarous father; I respect true love; but Ilook forward for you to a future--an immense future. A new reign isabout to break upon us like a fresh dawn. War calls upon a young kingfull of chivalric spirit. What is wanting to assist this heroic ardoris a battalion of young and free lieutenants who would rush to the fightwith enthusiasm and fall, crying: 'Vive le Roi!' instead of 'Adieu, mydear wife. ' You understand that, Raoul. However brutal my reasoningmay appear, I conjure you, then, to believe me, and to turn away yourthoughts from those early days of youth in which you took up this habitof love--days of effeminate carelessness, which soften the heart andrender it incapable of consuming those strong, bitter draughts calledglory and adversity. Therefore, Raoul, I repeat to you, you should seein my counsel only the desire of being useful to you, only the ambitionof seeing you prosper. I believe you capable of becoming a remarkableman. March alone, and you will march better, and more quickly. "

"You have commanded, monsieur, " replied Raoul, "and I obey. "

"Commanded!" cried Athos. "Is it thus you reply to me? I have commandedyou! Oh! you distort my words as you misconceive my intentions. I do notcommand you; I request you. "

"No, monsieur, you have commanded, " said Raoul, persistently; "had youonly requested me, your request is even more effective than your order. I have not seen Mademoiselle de la Valliere again. "

"But you are unhappy! you are unhappy!" insisted Athos. 

Raoul made no reply. 

"I find you pale; I find you dull. The sentiment is strong, then?"

"It is a passion, " replied Raoul. 

"No--a habit. "

"Monsieur, you know I have traveled much, that I have passed two yearsfar away from her. A habit would yield to an absence of two years, Ibelieve; whereas, on my return, I loved, not more, that was impossible, but as much. Mademoiselle de la Valliere is for me the one lady aboveall others; but you are for me a god upon earth--to you I sacrificeeverything. "

"You are wrong, " said Athos; "I have no longer any right over you. Agehas emancipated you; you no longer even stand in need of my consent. Besides, I will not refuse my consent after what you have told me. MarryMademoiselle de la Valliere, if you like. "

Raoul was startled, but suddenly: "You are very kind, monsieur, " saidhe, "and your concession excites my warmest gratitude, but I will notaccept it. "

"Then you now refuse?"

"Yes, monsieur. "

"I will not oppose you in anything, Raoul. "

"But you have at the bottom of your heart an idea against this marriage:it is not your choice. "

"That is true. "

"That is sufficient to make me resist: I will wait. "

"Beware, Raoul! What you are now saying is serious. "

"I know it is, monsieur; as I said, I will wait. "

"Until I die?" said Athos, much agitated. 

"Oh! monsieur, " cried Raoul, with tears in his eyes, "is it possiblethat you should wound my heart thus? I have never given you cause ofcomplaint!"

"Dear boy, that is true, " murmured Athos, pressing his lips violentlytogether to conceal the emotion of which he was no longer master. "No, I will no longer afflict you; only I do not comprehend what you mean bywaiting. Will you wait till you love no longer?"

"Ah! for that!--no, monsieur. I will wait till you change your opinion. "

"I should wish to put the matter to a test, Raoul; I should like to seeif Mademoiselle de la Valliere will wait as you do. "

"I hope so, monsieur. "

"But take care, Raoul! suppose she did not wait? Ah, you are so young, so confiding, so loyal! Women are changeable. "

"You have never spoken ill to me of women, monsieur; you have neverhad to complain of them; why should you doubt of Mademoiselle de laValliere?"

"That is true, " said Athos, casting down his eyes; "I have never spokenill to you of women; I have never had to complain of them; Mademoisellede la Valliere never gave birth to a suspicion; but when we are lookingforward, we must go even to exceptions, even to improbabilities! If, Isay, Mademoiselle de la Valliere should not wait for you?"

"How, monsieur?"

"If she turned her eyes another way. "

"If she looked favorably upon another, do you mean, monsieur?" saidRaoul, pale with agony. 

"Exactly. "

"Well, monsieur, I would kill him, " said Raoul, simply, "and all the menwhom Mademoiselle de la Valliere should choose, until one of them hadkilled me, or Mademoiselle de la Valliere had restored me her heart. "

Athos started. "I thought, " resumed he, in an agitated voice, "that youcalled me just now your god, your law in this world. "

"Oh!" said Raoul, trembling, "you would forbid me the duel?"

"Suppose I did forbid it, Raoul?"

"You would forbid me to hope, monsieur; consequently you would notforbid me to die. "

Athos raised his eyes toward the vicomte. He had pronounced these wordswith the most melancholy inflection, accompanied by the most melancholylook. "Enough, " said Athos, after a long silence, "enough of thissubject, upon which we both go too far. Live as well as you are able, Raoul, perform your duties, love Mademoiselle de; la Valliere; in aword, act like a man, since you have attained the age of a man; only donot forget that I love you tenderly, and that you profess to love me. "

"Ah! monsieur le comte!" cried Raoul, pressing the hand of Athos to hisheart. 

"Enough, dear boy, leave me; I want rest. A propos, M. D'Artagnan hasreturned from England with me; you owe him a visit. "

"I will pay it, monsieur, with great pleasure. I love Monsieurd'Artagnan exceedingly. "

"You are right in doing so; he is a worthy man and a brave cavalier. "

"Who loves you dearly. "

"I am sure of that. Do you know his address?"

"At the Louvre, I suppose, or wherever the king is. Does he not commandthe musketeers?"

"No; at present M. D'Artagnan is absent on leave; he is resting forawhile. Do not, therefore, seek him at the posts of his service. Youwill hear of him at the house of a certain Planchet. "

"His former lackey?"

"Exactly, turned grocer. "

"I know; Rue des Lombards?"

"Somewhere thereabouts, or Rue des Arcis. "

"I will find it, monsieur, --I will find it. "

"You will say a thousand kind things to him, on my part, and ask him tocome and dine with me before I set out for La Fere. "

"Yes, monsieur. "

"Good-night, Raoul!"

"Monsieur, I see you wear an order I never saw you wear before; acceptmy compliments!"

"The Fleece! that is true. A bauble, my boy, which no longer amuses anold child like myself. Goodnight, Raoul!"

CHAPTER 52. D'Artagnan's Lesson

Raoul did not meet with D'Artagnan the next day, as he had hoped. Heonly met with Planchet, whose joy was great at seeing the young managain, and who contrived to pay him two or three little soldierlycompliments, savoring very little of the grocer's shop. But as Raoulwas returning the next day from Vincennes, at the head of fifty dragoonsconfided to him by Monsieur le Prince, he perceived, in La PlaceBaudoyer, a man with his nose in the air, examining a house as weexamine a horse we have a fancy to buy. This man, dressed in citizencostume buttoned up like a military pourpoint, a very small hat on hishead, but a long shagreen-mounted sword by his side, turned his head assoon as he heard the steps of the horses, and left off looking at thehouse to look at the dragoons. It was simply M. D'Artagnan; D'Artagnanon foot; D'Artagnan with his hands behind him, passing a little reviewupon the dragoons, after having reviewed the buildings. Not a man, nota tag, not a horse's hoof escaped his inspection. Raoul rode at the sideof his troop; D'Artagnan perceived him the last. "Eh!" said he, "Eh!Mordioux!"

"I was not mistaken!" cried Raoul, turning his horse towards him. 

"Mistaken--no! Good-day to you, " replied the ex-musketeer; whilst Raouleagerly pressed the hand of his old friend. "Take care, Raoul, " saidD'Artagnan, "the second horse of the fifth rank will lose a shoebefore he gets to the Pont Marie; he has only two nails left in his offfore-foot. "

"Wait a minute, I will come back, " said Raoul. 

"Can you quit your detachment?"

"The cornet is there to take my place. "

"Then you will come and dine with me?"

"Most willingly, Monsieur d'Artagnan. "

"Be quick, then; leave your horse, or make them give me one. "

"I prefer coming back on foot with you. "

Raoul hastened to give notice to the cornet, who took his post; hethen dismounted, gave his horse to one of the dragoons, and with greatdelight seized the arm of M. D'Artagnan, who had watched him during allthese little evolutions with the satisfaction of a connoisseur. 

"What, do you come from Vincennes?" said he. 

"Yes, monsieur le chevalier. "

"And the cardinal?"

"Is very ill, it is even reported he is dead. '

"Are you on good terms with M. Fouquet?" asked D'Artagnan, with adisdainful movement of the shoulders, proving that the death of Mazarindid not affect him beyond measure. 

"With M. Fouquet?" said Raoul, "I do not know him. "

"So much the worse! so much the worse! for a new king always seeks toget good men in his employment. "

"Oh! the king means no harm, " replied the young man. 

"I say nothing about the crown, " cried D'Artagnan; "I am speaking of theking--the king, that is M. Fouquet, if the cardinal is dead. You mustcontrive to stand well with M. Fouquet, if you do not wish to molderaway all your life as I have moldered. It is true you have, fortunately, other protectors. "

"M. Le Prince, for instance. "

"Worn out! worn out!"

"M. Le Comte de la Fere?"

"Athos! Oh! that's different; yes, Athos--and if you have any wish tomake your way in England, you cannot apply to a better person; I caneven say, without too much vanity, that I myself have some credit at thecourt of Charles II. There is a king--God speed him!"

"Ah!" cried Raoul, with the natural curiosity of well-born young people, while listening to experience and courage. 

"Yes, a king who amuses himself, it is true, but who has had a swordin his hand, and can appreciate useful men. Athos is on good termswith Charles II. Take service there, and leave these scoundrels ofcontractors and farmers-general, who steal as well with French hands asothers have done with Italian hands; leave the little snivellingking, who is going to give us another reign of Francis II. Do you knowanything of history, Raoul?"

"Yes, monsieur le chevalier. "

"Do you know, then, that Francis II. Had always the earache?"

"No, I did not know that. "

"That Charles IV. Had always the headache?"

"Indeed!"

"And Henry III. Always the stomach-ache?"

Raoul began to laugh. 

"Well, my dear friend, Louis XIV. Always has the heartache; it isdeplorable to see a king sighing from morning till night without sayingonce in course of the day, ventre-saint-gris! corboeuf! or anything torouse one. "

"Was that the reason why you quitted the service, monsieur lechevalier?"

"Yes. "

"But you yourself, M. D'Artagnan, are throwing the handle after the axe;you will not make a fortune. "

"Who? I?" replied D'Artagnan, in a careless tone; "I am settled--I hadsome family property. "

Raoul looked at him. The poverty of D'Artagnan was proverbial. A Gascon, he exceeded in ill-luck all the gasconnades of France and Navarre; Raoulhad a hundred times heard Job and D'Artagnan named together, as thetwins Romulus and Remus. D'Artagnan caught Raoul's look of astonishment. 

"And has not your father told you I have been in England?"

"Yes, monsieur le chevalier. "

"And that I there met with a very lucky chance?"

"No, monsieur, I did not know that. "

"Yes, a very worthy friend of mine, a great nobleman, the viceroy ofScotland and Ireland, has endowed me with an inheritance. "

"An inheritance?"

"And a good one, too. "

"Then you are rich?"

"Bah!"

"Receive my sincere congratulation. "

"Thank you! Look, that is my house. "

"Place de Greve?"

"Yes, don't you like this quarter?"

"On the contrary, the look-out over the water is pleasant. Oh! what apretty old house!"

"The sign Notre Dame; it is an old cabaret, which I have transformedinto a private house in two days. "

"But the cabaret is still open?"

"Pardieu!"

"And where do you lodge, then?

"I? I lodge with Planchet. "

"You said, just now, 'This is my house. '"

"I said so, because, in fact, it is my house. I have bought it. "

"Ah!" said Raoul. 

"At ten years' purchase, my dear Raoul; a superb affair, I bought thehouse for thirty thousand livres; it has a garden which opens to theRue de la Mortillerie; the cabaret lets for a thousand livres, with thefirst story; the garret, or second floor, for five hundred livres. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes, indeed. "

"Five hundred livres for a garret? Why, it is not habitable. "

"Therefore no one inhabits it, only, you see this garret has two windowswhich look out upon the Place. "

"Yes, monsieur. "

"Well, then, every time anybody is broken on the wheel or hung, quartered, or burnt, these two windows let for twenty pistoles. "

"Oh!" said Raoul, with horror. 

"It is disgusting, is it not?" said D'Artagnan. 

"Oh!" repeated Raoul. 

"It is disgusting, but so it is. These Parisian cockneys are sometimesreal anthropophagi. I cannot conceive how men, Christians, can make suchspeculations. "

"That is true. "

"As for myself, " continued D'Artagnan, "if I inhabited that house, ondays of execution I would shut it up to the very keyholes; but I do notinhabit it. "

"And you let the garret for five hundred livres?"

"To the ferocious cabaretier, who sub-lets it. I said, then, fifteenhundred livres. "

"The natural interest of money, " said Raoul, --"five per cent. "

"Exactly so. I then have left the side of the house at the back, store-rooms, and cellars, inundated every winter, two hundred livres;and the garden, which is very fine, well planted, well shaded under thewalls and the portal of Saint-Gervais-Saint-Protais, thirteen hundredlivres. "

"Thirteen hundred livres! why, that is royal!"

"This is the whole history. I strongly suspect some canon of the parish(these canons are all as rich as Croesus)--I suspect some canon ofhaving hired the garden to take his pleasure in. The tenant has giventhe name of M. Godard. That is either a false name or a real name;if true, he is a canon; if false, he is some unknown; but of whatconsequence is it to me? he always pays in advance. I had also an ideajust now, when I met you, of buying a house in the Place Baudoyer, theback premises of which join my garden, and would make a magnificentproperty. Your dragoons interrupted my calculations. But come, letus take the Rue de la Vannerie: that will lead us straight to M. Planchet's. " D'Artagnan mended his pace, and conducted Raoul toPlanchet's dwelling, a chamber of which the grocer had given up to hisold master. Planchet was out, but the dinner was ready. There was aremains of military regularity and punctuality preserved in the grocer'shousehold. D'Artagnan returned to the subject of Raoul's future. 

"Your father brings you up rather strictly?" said he. 

"Justly, monsieur le chevalier. "

"Oh, yes, I know Athos is just, but close, perhaps?"

"A royal hand, Monsieur d'Artagnan. "

"Well, never want, my boy! If ever you stand in need of a few pistoles, the old musketeer is at hand. "

"My dear Monsieur d'Artagnan!"

"Do you play a little?"

"Never. "

"Successful with the ladies, then?--Oh, my little Aramis! That, my dearfriend, costs even more than play. It is true we fight when we lose, that is a compensation. Bah! that little sniveller, the king, makeswinners give him his revenge. What a reign! my poor Raoul, what a reign!When we think that, in my time, the musketeers were besieged in theirhouses like Hector and Priam in the city of Troy, and the women wept, and then the walls laughed, and then five hundred beggarly fellowsclapped their hands, and cried, 'Kill! kill!' when not one musketeer washurt. Mordioux! you will never see anything like that. "

"You are very hard upon the king, my dear Monsieur d'Artagnan; and yetyou scarcely know him. "

"I! Listen, Raoul. Day by day, hour by hour, --take note of my words, --Iwill predict what he will do. The cardinal being dead, he will fret;very well, that is the least silly thing he will do, particularly if hedoes not shed a tear. "

"And then?"

"Why then he will get M. Fouquet to allow him a pension, and will go andcompose verses at Fontainebleau, upon some Mancini or other, whose eyesthe queen will scratch out. She is a Spaniard, you see, --this queen ofours, and she has, for mother-in-law, Madame Anne of Austria. I knowsomething of the Spaniards of the house of Austria. "

"And next?"

"Well, after having torn off the silver lace from the uniforms of hisSwiss, because lace is too expensive, he will dismount the musketeers, because the oats and hay of a horse cost five sols a day. "

"Oh! do not say that. "

"Of what consequence is it to me? I am no longer a musketeer, am I? Letthem be on horseback, let them be on foot, let them carry a larding-pin, a spit, a sword, or nothing--what is it to me?"

"My dear Monsieur d'Artagnan, I beseech you speak no more ill of theking. I am almost in his service, and my father would be very angrywith me for having heard, even from your mouth, words injurious to hismajesty. "

"Your father, eh? He is a knight in every bad cause. Pardieu! yes, your father is a brave man, a Caesar, it is true--but a man withoutperception. "

"Now, my dear chevalier, " exclaimed Raoul, laughing, "are you going tospeak ill of my father, of him you call the great Athos. Truly you arein a bad vein to-day; riches render you as sour as poverty renders otherpeople. "

"Pardieu! you are right. I am a rascal and in my dotage; I am an unhappywretch grown old; a tent-cord untwisted, a pierced cuirass, a bootwithout a sole, a spur without a rowel;--but do me the pleasure to addone thing. "

"What is that, my dear Monsieur d'Artagnan?"

"Simply say: 'Mazarin was a pitiful wretch. '"

"Perhaps he is dead. "

"More the reason--I say was; if I did not hope that he was dead, I wouldentreat you to say: 'Mazarin is a pitiful wretch. ' Come, say so, say so, for love of me. "

"Well, I will. "

"Say it!"

"Mazarin was a pitiful wretch, " said Raoul, smiling at the musketeer, who roared with laughter, as in his best days. 

"A moment, " said the latter; "you have spoken my first proposition, here is the conclusion of it, --repeat, Raoul, repeat: 'But I regretMazarin. '"

"Chevalier!"

"You will not say it? Well, then, I will say it twice for you. "

"But you would regret Mazarin?"

And they were still laughing and discussing this profession ofprinciples, when one of the shop-boys entered. "A letter, monsieur, "said he, "for M. D'Artagnan. "

"Thank you; give it me, " cried the musketeer. 

"The handwriting of monsieur le comte, " said Raoul. 

"Yes, yes. " And D'Artagnan broke the seal. 

"Dear friend, " said Athos, "a person has just been here to beg me toseek for you, on the part of the king. "

"Seek me!" said D'Artagnan, letting the paper fall upon the table. Raoulpicked it up, and continued to read aloud:--

"Make haste. His majesty is very anxious to speak to you, and expectsyou at the Louvre. "

"Expects me?" again repeated the musketeer. 

"He, he, he!" laughed Raoul. 

"Oh, oh!" replied D'Artagnan. "What the devil can this mean?"

CHAPTER 53. The King

The first moment of surprise over, D'Artagnan reperused Athos's note. "It is strange, " said he, "that the king should send for me. "

"Why so?" said Raoul; "do you not think, monsieur, that the king mustregret such a servant as you?"

"Oh, oh!" cried the officer, laughing with all his might; "you arepoking fun at me, Master Raoul. If the king had regretted me, he wouldnot have let me leave him. No, no; I see in it something better, orworse, if you like. "

"Worse! What can that be, monsieur le chevalier?"

"You are young, you are a boy, you are admirable. Oh, how I should liketo be as you are! To be but twenty-four, with an unfurrowed brow, under which the brain is void of everything but women, love, and goodintentions. Oh, Raoul, as long as you have not received the smilesof kings, the confidence of queens; as long as you have not had twocardinals killed under you, the one a tiger, the other a fox, as long asyou have not--But what is the good of all this trifling? We must part, Raoul. "

"How you say the word! What a serious face!"

"Eh! but the occasion is worthy of it. Listen to me. I have a very goodrecommendation to tender you. "

"I am all attention, Monsieur d'Artagnan. "

"You will go and inform your father of my departure. "

"Your departure?"

"Pardieu! You will tell him that I am gone into England; and that I amliving in my little country-house. "

"In England, you!--And the king's orders?"

"You get more and more silly: do you imagine that I am going tothe Louvre, to place myself at the disposal of that little crownedwolf-cub?"

"The king a wolf-cub? Why, monsieur le chevalier, you are mad!"

"On the contrary, I never was so sane. You do not know what he wants todo with me, this worthy son of Louis le Juste!--But, Mordioux! thatis policy. He wishes to ensconce me snugly in the Bastile--purely andsimply, look you!"

"What for?" cried Raoul, terrified at what he heard. 

"On account of what I told him one day at Blois. I was warm; heremembers it. "

"You told him what?"

"That he was mean, cowardly, and silly. "

"Good God!" cried Raoul, "is it possible that such words should haveissued from your mouth?"

"Perhaps I don't give the letter of my speech, but I give the sense ofit. "

"But did not the king have you arrested immediately?"

"By whom? It was I who commanded the musketeers; he must have commandedme to convey myself to prison; I would never have consented: I wouldhave resisted myself. And then I went into England--no more D'Artagnan. Now, the cardinal is dead, or nearly so, they learn that I am in Paris, and they lay their hands on me. "

"The cardinal was your protector?"

"The cardinal knew me; he knew certain particularities of me; I alsoknew some of his; we appreciated each other mutually. And then, onrendering his soul to the devil, he would recommend Anne of Austria tomake me the inhabitant of a safe place. Go then, and find your father, relate the fact to him--and adieu!"

"My dear Monsieur d'Artagnan, " said Raoul, very much agitated, afterhaving looked out at the window, "you cannot even fly!"

"Why not?"

"Because there is below an officer of the Swiss guards waiting for you. "

"Well!"

"Well, he will arrest you. "

D'Artagnan broke into a Homeric laugh. 

"Oh! I know very well that you will resist, that you will fight, even;I know very well that you will prove the conqueror; but that amounts torebellion, and you are an officer yourself, knowing what discipline is. "

"Devil of a boy, how logical that is!" grumbled D'Artagnan. 

"You approve of it, do you not?"

"Yes, instead of passing into the street, where that idiot is waitingfor me, I will slip quietly out at the back. I have a horse in thestable, and a good one. I will ride him to death; my means permit meto do so, and by killing one horse after another, I shall arrive atBoulogne in eleven hours; I know the road. Only tell your father onething. "

"What is that?"

"That is--that the thing he knows about is placed at Planchet's house, except a fifth, and that----"

"But, my dear M. D'Artagnan, rest assured that if you fly, two thingswill be said of you. "

"What are they, my dear friend?"

"The first, that you have been afraid. "

"Ah! and who will dare to say that?"

"The king first. "

"Well! but he will tell the truth, --I am afraid. "

"The second, that you knew yourself guilty. "

"Guilty of what?"

"Why, of the crimes they wish to impute to you. "

"That is true again. So, then, you advise me to go and get myself made aprisoner in the Bastile?"

"M. Le Comte de la Fere would advise you just as I do. "

"Pardieu! I know he would, " said D'Artagnan thoughtfully. "You areright, I shall not escape. But if they cast me into the Bastile?"

"We will get you out again, " said Raoul, with a quiet, calm air. 

"Mordioux! You said that after a brave fashion, Raoul, " said D'Artagnan, seizing his hand, "that savors of Athos, distinctly. Well, I will go, then. Do not forget my last word. "

"Except a fifth, " said Raoul. 

"Yes, you are a fine boy! and I wish you to add one thing to that lastword. "

"Speak, chevalier!"

"It is that if you cannot get me out of the Bastile, and I remainthere--oh! that will be so, and I shall be a detestable prisoner; I, whohave been a passable man, --in that case, I give three-fifths to you, andthe fourth to your father. "

"Chevalier!"

"Mordioux! If you will have some masses said for me, you are welcome. "

That being said, D'Artagnan took his belt from the hook, girded on hissword, took a hat the feather of which was fresh, and held his hand outto Raoul, who threw himself into his arms. When in the shop, he cast aquick glance at the shop-lads, who looked upon the scene with a pridemingled with some inquietude; then plunging his hands into a chest ofcurrants, he went straight to the officer who was waiting for him at thedoor. 

"Those features! Can it be you, Monsieur de Friedisch?" criedD'Artagnan, gayly. "Eh! eh! what, do we arrest our friends?"

"Arrest!" whispered the lads among themselves. 

"Yes, it is I, Monsieur d'Artagnan! Good-day to you!" said the Swiss, inhis mountain patois. 

"Must I give you up my sword? I warn you, that it is long and heavy;you had better let me wear it to the Louvre: I feel quite lost in thestreets without a sword, and you would be more at a loss than I should, with two. "

"The king has given no orders about it, " replied the Swiss, "so keepyour sword. "

"Well, that is very polite on the part of the king. Let us go, at once. "

Monsieur Friedisch was not a talker, and D'Artagnan had too many thingsto think about to say much. From Planchet's shop to the Louvre was notfar--they arrived in ten minutes. It was a dark night. M. De Friedischwanted to enter by the wicket. "No, " said D'Artagnan, "you would losetime by that; take the little staircase. "

The Swiss did as D'Artagnan advised, and conducted him to the vestibuleof the king's cabinet. When arrived there, he bowed to his prisoner, and, without saying anything, returned to his post. D'Artagnan had nothad time to ask why his sword was not taken from him, when the door ofthe cabinet opened, and a valet de chambre called "M. D'Artagnan!" Themusketeer assumed his parade carriage and entered, with his large eyeswide open, his brow calm, his mustache stiff. The king was seated at atable writing. He did not disturb himself when the step of the musketeerresounded on the floor; he did not even turn his head. D'Artagnanadvanced as far as the middle of the room, and seeing that the king paidno attention to him, and suspecting, besides, that this was nothing butaffectation, a sort of tormenting preamble to the explanation that waspreparing, he turned his back on the prince, and began to examine thefrescoes on the cornices, and the cracks in the ceiling. This maneuverwas accompanied by a little tacit monologue. "Ah! you want to humble me, do you?--you, whom I have seen so young--you, whom I have served as Iwould my own child, --you, whom I have served as I would a God--that isto say, for nothing. Wait awhile! wait awhile! you shall see what a mancan do who has snuffed the air of the fire of the Huguenots, under thebeard of monsieur le cardinal--the true cardinal. " At this moment Louisturned round. 

"Ah! are you there, Monsieur d'Artagnan?" said he. 

D'Artagnan saw the movement and imitated it. "Yes, sire, " said he. 

"Very well; have the goodness to wait till I have cast this up. "

D'Artagnan made no reply; he only bowed. "That is polite enough, "thought he; "I have nothing to say. "

Louis made a violent dash with his pen, and threw it angrily away. 

"Ah! go on, work yourself up!" thought the musketeer; "you will put meat my ease. You shall find I did not empty the bag, the other day, atBlois. "

Louis rose from his seat, passed his hand over his brow, then, stoppingopposite to D'Artagnan, he looked at him with an air at once imperiousand kind. "What the devil does he want with me? I wish he would begin!"thought the musketeer. 

"Monsieur, " said the king, "you know, without doubt, that monsieur lecardinal is dead?"

"I suspected so, sire. "

"You know that, consequently, I am master in my own kingdom?"

"That is not a thing that dates from the death of monsieur le cardinal, sire; a man is always master in his own house, when he wishes to be so. "

"Yes; but do you remember all you said to me at Blois?"

"Now we come to it, " thought D'Artagnan, "I was not deceived. Well, somuch the better, it is a sign that my scent is tolerably keen yet. "

"You do not answer me, " said Louis. 

"Sire, I think I recollect. "

"You only think?"

"It is so long ago. "

"If you do not remember, I do. You said to me, --listen with attention. "

"Ah! I shall listen with all my ears, sire; for it is very likely theconversation will turn in a fashion very interesting to me. "

Louis once more looked at the musketeer, The latter smoothed the featherof his hat, then his mustache, and waited bravely. Louis XIV. Continued:"You quitted my service, monsieur, after having told me the wholetruth?"

"Yes, sire. "

"That is, after having declared to me all you thought to be true, withregard to my mode of thinking and acting. That is always a merit. Youbegan by telling me that you had served my family thirty years, and werefatigued. "

"I said so; yes, sire. "

"And you afterwards admitted that that fatigue was a pretext, and thatdiscontent was the real cause. "

"I was discontented, in fact, but that discontent has never betrayeditself, that I know of, and if, like a man of heart, I have spokenout before your majesty, I have not even thought of the matter, beforeanybody else. "

"Do not excuse yourself, D'Artagnan, but continue to listen to me. Whenmaking me the reproach that you were discontented, you received in replya promise:--'Wait. '--Is not that true?"

"Yes, sire, as true as what I told you. "

"You answered me, 'Hereafter! No, now, immediately. ' Do not excuseyourself, I tell you. It was natural, but you had no charity for yourpoor prince, Monsieur d'Artagnan. "

"Sire! charity for a king, on the part of a poor soldier!"

"You understand me very well; you knew that I stood in need of it; youknew very well that I was not master; you knew very well that my hopewas in the future. Now, you answered me when I spoke of that future, 'Mydischarge, --and that directly. '"

"That is true, " murmured D'Artagnan, biting his mustache. 

"You did not flatter me when I was in distress, " added Louis. 

"But, " said D'Artagnan, raising his head nobly, "if I did not flatteryour majesty when poor, neither did I betray you. I have shed my bloodfor nothing; I have watched like a dog at a door, knowing full well thatneither bread nor bone would be thrown to me. I, although poor likewise, asked nothing of your majesty but the discharge you speak of. "

"I know you are a brave man, but I was a young man, and you ought tohave had some indulgence for me. What had you to reproach the kingwith?--that he left King Charles II. Without assistance?--let us sayfurther--that he did not marry Mademoiselle de Mancini?" When sayingthese words, the king fixed upon the musketeer a searching look. 

"Ah! ah!" thought the latter, "he is doing far more than remembering, hedivines. The devil!"

"Your sentence, " continued Louis, "fell upon the king and fell upon theman. But, Monsieur d'Artagnan, that weakness, for you considered ita weakness?"--D'Artagnan made no reply--"you reproached me also withregard to monsieur, the defunct cardinal. Now, monsieur le cardinal, did he not bring me up, did he not support me?--elevating himselfand supporting himself at the same time, I admit; but the benefit wasdischarged. As an ingrate or an egotist, would you, then, have betterloved or served me?"

"Sire!"

"We will say no more about it, monsieur; it would only create in you toomany regrets, and me too much pain. "

D'Artagnan was not convinced. The young king, in adopting a tone ofhauteur with him, did not forward his purpose. 

"You have since reflected?" resumed Louis. 

"Upon what, sire?" asked D'Artagnan, politely. 

"Why, upon all that I have said to you, monsieur. "

"Yes, sire, no doubt----"

"And you have only waited for an opportunity of retracting your words?"

"Sire!"

"You hesitate, it seems. "

"I do not understand what your majesty did me the honor to say to me. "

Louis's brow became cloudy. 

"Have the goodness to excuse me, sire; my understanding is particularlythick; things do not penetrate it without difficulty; but it is true, when once they get in, they remain there. "

"Yes, yes; you appear to have a memory. "

"Almost as good a one as your majesty's. "

"Then give me quickly one solution. My time is valuable. What have youbeen doing since your discharge?"

"Making my fortune, sire. "

"The expression is crude, Monsieur d'Artagnan. "

"Your majesty takes it in bad part, certainly. I entertain nothing butthe profoundest respect for the king; and if I have been impolite, whichmight be excused by my long sojourn in camps and barracks, your majestyis too much above me to be offended at a word that innocently escapesfrom a soldier. "

"In fact, I know you performed a brilliant action in England, monsieur. I only regret that you have broken your promise. "

"I!" cried D'Artagnan. 

"Doubtless. You engaged your word not to serve any other prince onquitting my service. Now it was for King Charles II. That you undertookthe marvelous carrying off of M. Monk. "

"Pardon me, sire, it was for myself. "

"And did you succeed?"

"Like the captains of the fifteenth century, coups-de-main andadventures. "

"What do you call succeeding?--a fortune?"

"A hundred thousand crowns, sire, which I now possess--that is, in oneweek three times as much money as I ever had in fifty years. "

"It is a handsome sum. But you are ambitious, I perceive. "

"I, sire? The quarter of that would be a treasure; and I swear to you Ihave no thought of augmenting it. "

"What! you contemplate remaining idle?"

"Yes, sire. "

"You mean to drop the sword?"

"That I have already done. "

"Impossible, Monsieur d'Artagnan, " said Louis, firmly. 

"But, sire----"

"Well?"

"And why, sire?"

"Because it is my wish you should not!" said the young prince, in avoice so stern and imperious that D'Artagnan evinced surprise and evenuneasiness. 

"Will your majesty allow me one word of reply?" said he. 

"Speak. "

"I formed that resolution when I was poor and destitute. "

"So be it. Go on. "

"Now, when by my energy I have acquired a comfortable means ofsubsistence, would your majesty despoil me of my liberty? Your majestywould condemn me to the lowest, when I have gained the highest?"

"Who gave you permission, monsieur to fathom my designs, or to reckonwith me?" replied Louis, in a voice almost angry; "who told you what Ishall do or what you will yourself do?"

"Sire, " said the musketeer, quietly, "as far as I see, freedom isnot the order of the conversation, as it was on the day we came to anexplanation at Blois. "

"No, monsieur; everything is changed. "

"I tender your majesty my sincere compliments upon that, but----"

"But you don't believe it?"

"I am not a great statesman, and yet I have my eye upon affairs; itseldom fails; now, I do not see exactly as your majesty does, sire. Thereign of Mazarin is over, but that of the financiers is begun. They havethe money; your majesty will not often see much of it. To live underthe paw of these hungry wolves is hard for a man who reckoned uponindependence. "

At this moment some one scratched at the door of the cabinet; the kingraised his head proudly. "Your pardon, Monsieur d'Artagnan, " said he;"it is M. Colbert, who comes to make me a report. Come in M. Colbert. "

D'Artagnan drew back. Colbert entered with papers in his hand, and wentup to the king. There can be little doubt that the Gascon did not losethe opportunity of applying his keen, quick glance to the new figurewhich presented itself. 

"Is the inquiry made?"

"Yes, sire. "

"And the opinion of the inquisitors?"

"Is that the accused merit confiscation and death. "

"Ah! ah!" said the king, without changing countenance, and casting anoblique look at D'Artagnan. "And your own opinion, M. Colbert?" said he. 

Colbert looked at D'Artagnan in his turn. That imposing countenancechecked the words upon his lips. Louis perceived this. "Do not disturbyourself, " said he; "it is M. D'Artagnan, --do you not know M. D'Artagnanagain?"

These two men looked at each other--D'Artagnan, with eyes open andbright as the day--Colbert, with his half closed, and dim. The frankintrepidity of the one annoyed the other; the circumspection of thefinancier disgusted the soldier. "Ah! ah! this is the gentleman who madethat brilliant stroke in England, " said Colbert. And he bowed slightlyto D'Artagnan. 

"Ah! ah!" said the Gascon, "this is the gentleman who clipped off thelace from the uniform of the Swiss! A praiseworthy piece of economy. "

The financier thought to pierce the musketeer; but the musketeer ran thefinancier through. 

"Monsieur d'Artagnan, " resumed the king, who had not remarked all theshades of which Mazarin would have missed not one, "this concerns thefarmers of the revenue who have robbed me, whom I am hanging, and whosedeath-warrants I am about to sign. "

"Oh! oh!" said D'Artagnan, starting. 

"What did you say?"

"Oh! nothing, sire. This is no business of mine. "

The king had already taken up the pen, and was applying it to the paper. "Sire, " said Colbert in a subdued voice, "I beg to warn your majesty, that if an example be necessary, there will be difficulty in theexecution of your orders. "

"What do you say?" said Louis. 

"You must not conceal from yourself, " continued Colbert quietly, "thatattacking the farmers-general is attacking the superintendence. Thetwo unfortunate guilty men in question are the particular friends ofa powerful personage, and the punishment, which otherwise might becomfortably confined to the Chatelet will doubtless be a signal fordisturbances!"

Louis colored and turned towards D'Artagnan, who took a slight bite athis mustache, not without a smile of pity for the financier, and forthe king who had to listen to him so long. But Louis seized the pen, andwith a movement so rapid, that his hand shook, he affixed his signatureat the bottom of the two papers presented by Colbert, --then looking thelatter in the face, --"Monsieur Colbert'" said he, "when you speak tome on business, exclude more frequently the word difficulty from yourreasonings and opinions; as to the word impossibility, never pronounceit. "

Colbert bowed, much humiliated at having to undergo such a lesson beforethe musketeer; he was about to go out, but, jealous to repair his check:"I forgot to announce to your majesty, " said he, "that the confiscationsamount to the sum of five millions of livres. "

"That's pretty well!" thought D'Artagnan. 

"Which makes in my coffers?" said the king. 

"Eighteen millions of livres, sire, " replied Colbert, bowing. 

"Mordioux!" growled D'Artagnan, "that's glorious!"

"Monsieur Colbert, " added the king, "you will, if you please, go throughthe gallery where M. Lyonne is waiting, and will tell him to bringhither what he has drawn up--by my order. "

"Directly, sire; if your majesty wants me no more this evening?"

"No, monsieur: good-night!" And Colbert went out. 

"Now, let us return to our affair, M. D'Artagnan, " said the king, asif nothing had happened. "You see that, with respect to money, there isalready a notable change. "

"Something to the tune of from zero to eighteen millions, " replied themusketeer, gayly. "Ah! that was what your majesty wanted the day KingCharles II. Came to Blois. The two states would not have been embroiledto-day; for I must say, that there also I see another stumbling-block. "

"Well, in the first place, " replied Louis, "you are unjust, monsieur;for, if Providence had made me able to give my brother the million thatday, you would not have quitted my service, and, consequently, you wouldnot have made your fortune, as you told me just now you have done. But, in addition to this, I have had another piece of good fortune; and mydifference with Great Britain need not alarm you. "

A valet de chambre interrupted the king by announcing M. Lyonne. "Comein, monsieur, " said the king; "you are punctual; that is like a goodservant. Let us see your letter to my brother Charles II. "

D'Artagnan pricked up his ears. "A moment, monsieur, " said Louis, carelessly to the Gascon, "I must expedite to London my consent to themarriage of my brother, M. Le Duc d'Anjou, with the Princess HenriettaStuart. "

"He is knocking me about, it seems, " murmured D'Artagnan, whilst theking signed the letter, and dismissed M. De Lyonne, "but, ma foi! themore he knocks me about in this manner, the better I like it. "

The king followed M. De Lyonne with his eyes, till the door wasclosed behind him; he even made three steps, as if he would follow theminister, but, after these three steps, stopping, pausing, and comingback to the musketeer, --"Now, monsieur, " said he, "let us hasten toterminate our affair. You told me the other day, at Blois, that you werenot rich?"

"But I am now, sire. "

"Yes, but that does not concern me; you have your own money, not mine;that does not enter into my account. "

"I do not well understand what your majesty means. "

"Then, instead of leaving you to draw out words, speak, spontaneously. Should you be satisfied with twenty thousand livres a year as a fixedincome?"

"But, sire, " said D'Artagnan, opening his eyes to the utmost. 

"Would you be satisfied with four horses furnished and kept, and witha supplement of funds such as you might require, according to occasionsand needs, or would you prefer a fixed sum which would be, for example, forty thousand livres? Answer. "

"Sire, your majesty----"

"Yes, you are surprised; that is natural, and I expected it. Answer me, come! or I shall think you have no longer that rapidity of judgment Ihave so much admired in you. "

"It is certain, sire, that twenty thousand livres a year make a handsomesum; but----"

"No buts! Yes or no, is it an honorable indemnity?"

"Oh! very certainly. "

"You will be satisfied with it? That is well. It will be better toreckon the extra expenses separately; you can arrange that with Colbert. Now let us pass to something more important. "

"But, sire, I told your majesty----"

"That you wanted rest, I know you did: only I replied that I would notallow it--I am master, I suppose?"

"Yes, sire. "

"That is well. You were formerly in the way of becoming captain of themusketeers?"

"Yes, sire. "

"Well, here is your commission signed. I place it in this drawer. Theday on which you shall return from a certain expedition which I have toconfide to you, on that day you may yourself take the commission fromthe drawer. " D'Artagnan still hesitated, and hung down his head. "Come, monsieur, " said the king, "one would believe, to look at you, thatyou did not know that at the court of the most Christian king, thecaptain-general of the musketeers takes precedence of the marechals ofFrance. "

"Sire, I know he does. 

"Then, am I to think you do put no faith in my word?"

"Oh! sire, never--never dream of such a thing. "

"I have wished to prove to you, that you, so good a servant, had lost agood master; am I anything like the master that will suit you?"

"I begin to think you are, sire. "

"Then, monsieur, you will resume your functions. Your company is quitedisorganized since your departure and the men go about drinking andrioting in the cabarets where they fight, in spite of my edicts, and those of my father. You will reorganize the service as soon aspossible. "

"Yes, sire. "

"You will not again quit my person. "

"Very well, sire. "

"You will march with me to the army, you will encamp round my tent. "

"Then, sire, " said D'Artagnan, "if it is only to impose upon me aservice like that, your majesty need not give me twenty thousand livresa year. I shall not earn them. "

"I desire that you shall keep open house; I desire that you should keepa liberal table; I desire that my captain of musketeers should be apersonage. "

"And I, " said D'Artagnan, bluntly; "I do not like easily found money;I like money won! Your majesty gives me an idle trade, which the firstcomer would perform for four thousand livres. "

Louis XIV. Began to laugh. "You are a true Gascon, Monsieur d'Artagnan;you will draw my heart's secret from me. "

"Bah! has your majesty a secret, then?"

"Yes, monsieur. "

"Well! then I accept the twenty thousand livres, for I will keep thatsecret, and discretion is above all price, in these times. Will yourmajesty speak now?"

"Boot yourself, Monsieur d'Artagnan, and to horse!"

"Directly, sire. "

"Within two days. "

"That is well, sire: for I have my affairs to settle before I set out;particularly if it is likely there should be any blows stirring. "

"That may happen. "

"We can receive them! But, sire, you have addressed yourself to avarice, to ambition; you have addressed yourself to the heart of M. D'Artagnan, but you have forgotten one thing. "

"What is that?"

"You have said nothing to his vanity, when shall I be a knight of theking's orders?"

"Does that interest you?"

"Why, yes, sire. My friend Athos is quite covered with orders, and thatdazzles me. "

"You shall be a knight of my order a month after you have taken yourcommission of captain. "

"Ah! ah!" said the officer, thoughtfully, "after the expedition. "

"Precisely. "

"Where is your majesty going to send me?"

"Are you acquainted with Bretagne?"

"Have you any friends there?"

"In Bretagne? No, ma foi!"

"So much the better. Do you know anything about fortifications?"

"I believe I do, sire, " said D'Artagnan, smiling. 

"That is to say you can readily distinguish a fortress from a simplefortification, such as is allowed to chatelains or vassals?"

"I distinguish a fort from a rampart as I distinguish a cuirass from araised pie-crust, sire. Is that sufficient?"

"Yes, monsieur. You will set out then. "

"For Bretagne?"

"Yes. "

"Alone?"

"Absolutely alone. That is to say, you must not even take a lackey withyou. "

"May I ask your majesty for what reason?"

"Because, monsieur, it will be necessary to disguise yourself sometimes, as the servant of a good family. Your face is very well known in France, M. D'Artagnan. "

"And then, sire?"

"And then you will travel slowly through Bretagne, and will examinecarefully the fortifications of that country. "

"The coasts?"

"Yes, and the isles, commencing by Belle-Isle-en-Mer. "

"Ah! which belongs to M. Fouquet!" said D'Artagnan, in a serious tone, raising his intelligent eye to Louis XIV. 

"I fancy you are right, monsieur, and that Belle-Isle does belong to M. Fouquet, in fact. "

"Then your majesty wishes me to ascertain if Belle-Isle is a strongplace?"

"Yes. "

"If the fortifications of it are new or old?"

"Precisely. "

"And if the vassals of M. Fouquet are sufficiently numerous to form agarrison?"

"That is what I want to know; you have placed your finger on thequestion. "

"And if they are not fortifying, sire?"

"You will travel about Bretagne, listening and judging. "

"Then I am a king's spy?" said D'Artagnan, bluntly, twisting hismustache. 

"No, monsieur. "

"Your pardon, sire; I spy on your majesty's account. "

"You start on a voyage of discovery, monsieur. Would you march at thehead of your musketeers, with your sword in your hand, to observe anyspot whatever, or an enemy's position?"

At this word D'Artagnan started. 

"Do you, " continued the king, "imagine yourself to be a spy?"

"No, no, " said D'Artagnan, but pensively; "the thing changes its facewhen one observes an enemy; one is but a soldier. And if they arefortifying Belle-Isle?" added he, quickly. 

"You will take an exact plan of the fortifications. "

"Will they permit me to enter?"

"That does not concern me; that is your affair. Did you not understandthat I reserved for you a supplement of twenty thousand livres perannum, if you wished it?"

"Yes, sire; but if they are not fortifying?"

"You will return quietly, without fatiguing your horse. "

"Sire, I am ready. "

"You will begin to-morrow by going to monsieur le surintendant's to takethe first quarter of the pension I give you. Do you know M. Fouquet?"

"Very little, sire; but I beg your majesty to observe that I don't thinkit immediately necessary that I should know him. "

"Your pardon, monsieur; for he will refuse you the money I wish you totake; and it is that refusal I look for. "

"Ah!" said D'Artagnan. "Then, sire?"

"The money being refused, you will go and seek it at M. Colbert's. Apropos, have you a good horse?"

"An excellent one, sire. "

"How much did it cost you?"

"A hundred and fifty pistoles. "

"I will buy it of you. Here is a note for two hundred pistoles. "

"But I want my horse for my journey, sire. "

"Well!"

"Well, and you take mine from me. "

"Not at all. On the contrary, I give it you. Only as it is now mine andnot yours, I am sure you will not spare it. "

"Your majesty is in a hurry, then?"

"A great hurry. "

"Then what compels me to wait two days?"

"Reasons known to myself. "

"That's a different affair. The horse may make up the two days, in theeight he has to travel; and then there is the post. "

"No, no, the post compromises, Monsieur d'Artagnan. Begone and do notforget you are my servant. "

"Sire, it is not my duty to forget it! At what hour to-morrow shall Itake my leave of your majesty?"

"Where do you lodge?"

"I must henceforward lodge at the Louvre. "

"That must not be now--keep your lodgings in the city: I will pay forthem. As to your departure, it must take place at night; you must setout without being seen by any one, or, if you are seen, it must not beknown that you belong to me. Keep your mouth shut, monsieur. "

"Your majesty spoils all you have said by that single word. "

"I asked you where you lodged, for I cannot always send to M. Le Comtede la Fere to seek you. "

"I lodge with M. Planchet, a grocer, Rue des Lombards, at the sign ofthe Pilon d'Or. "

"Go out but little, show yourself less, and await my orders. "

"And yet, sire, I must go for the money. "

"That is true, but when going to the superintendence, where so manypeople are constantly going, you must mingle with the crowd. "

"I want the notes, sire, for the money. "

"Here they are. " The king signed them, and D'Artagnan looked on, toassure himself of their regularity. 

"Adieu! Monsieur d'Artagnan, " added the king; "I think you haveperfectly understood me. "

"I? I understand that your majesty sends me to Belle-Isle-en-Mer, thatis all. "

"To learn?"

"To learn how M. Fouquet's works are going on; that is all. "

"Very well: I admit you may be taken. "

"And I do not admit it, " replied the Gascon, boldly. 

"I admit you may be killed, " continued the king. 

"That is not probable, sire. "

"In the first case, you must not speak; in the second there must be nopapers found upon you. "

D'Artagnan shrugged his shoulders without ceremony, and took leave ofthe king, saying to himself:--"The English shower continues--let usremain under the spout!"

CHAPTER 54. The Houses of M. Fouquet

Whilst D'Artagnan was returning to Planchet's house, his head aching andbewildered with all that had happened to him, there was passing a sceneof quite a different character, and which, nevertheless is not foreignto the conversation our musketeer had just had with the king; onlythis scene took place out of Paris, in a house possessed by thesuperintendent Fouquet in the village of Saint-Mande. The minister hadjust arrived at this country-house, followed by his principal clerk, whocarried an enormous portfolio full of papers to be examined, andothers waiting for signature. As it might be about five o'clock in theafternoon, the masters had dined: supper was being prepared for twentysubaltern guests. The superintendent did not stop: on alighting from hiscarriage, he, at the same bound, sprang through the doorway, traversedthe apartments and gained his cabinet, where he declared he would shuthimself up to work, commanding that he should not be disturbed foranything but an order from the king. As soon as this order was given, Fouquet shut himself up, and two footmen were placed as sentinels at hisdoor. Then Fouquet pushed a bolt which displaced a panel that walledup the entrance, and prevented everything that passed in this apartmentfrom being either seen or heard. But, against all probability, it wasonly for the sake of shutting himself up that Fouquet shut himself upthus, for he went straight to a bureau, seated himself at it, openedthe portfolio, and began to make a choice amongst the enormous massof papers it contained. It was not more than ten minutes after he hadentered, and taken all the precautions we have described, when therepeated noise of several slight equal knocks struck his ear, andappeared to fix his utmost attention. Fouquet raised his head, turnedhis ear, and listened. 

The strokes continued. Then the worker arose with a slight movement ofimpatience and walked straight up to a glass behind which the blows werestruck by a hand, or by some invisible mechanism. It was a large glasslet into a panel. Three other glasses, exactly similar to it, completedthe symmetry of the apartment. Nothing distinguished that one from theothers. Without doubt, these reiterated knocks were a signal; for, atthe moment Fouquet approached the glass listening, the same noise wasrenewed, and in the same measure. "Oh! oh!" murmured the intendent, withsurprise, "who is yonder? I did not expect anybody to-day. " And, withoutdoubt, to respond to that signal, he pulled out a gilded nail near theglass, and shook it thrice. Then returning to his place, and seatinghimself again, "Ma foi! let them wait, " said he. And plunging again intothe ocean of papers unrolled before him, he appeared to think of nothingnow but work. In fact with incredible rapidity and marvelous lucidity, Fouquet deciphered the largest papers and most complicated writings, correcting them, annotating them with a pen moved as if by a fever, and the work melting under his hands, signatures, figures, references, became multiplied as if ten clerks--that is to say, a hundred fingersand ten brains had performed the duties, instead of the five fingers andsingle brain of this man. From time to time, only, Fouquet, absorbed byhis work, raised his head to cast a furtive glance upon a clock placedbefore him. The reason of this was, Fouquet set himself a task, andwhen this task was once set, in one hour's work he, by himself, didwhat another would not have accomplished in a day; always certain, consequently, provided he was not disturbed, of arriving at the closein the time his devouring activity had fixed. But in the midst of hisardent labor, the soft strokes upon the little bell placed behind theglass sounded again, hasty, and, consequently, more urgent. 

"The lady appears to be impatient, " said Fouquet. "Humph! a calm! Thatmust be the comtesse; but, no, the comtesse is gone to Rambouilletfor three days. The presidente, then? Oh! no, the presidente would notassume such grand airs; she would ring very humbly, then she would waitmy good pleasure. The greatest certainty is, that I do not know whoit can be, but that I know who it cannot be. And since it is not you, marquise, since it cannot be you, deuce take the rest!" And he went onwith his work in spite of the reiterated appeals of the bell. At the endof a quarter of an hour, however, impatience prevailed over Fouquet inhis turn: he might be said to consume, rather than to complete therest of his work; he thrust his papers into his portfolio, and giving aglance at the mirror, whilst the taps continued faster than ever: "Oh!oh!" said he, "whence comes all this racket? What has happened, and whocan the Ariadne be who expects me so impatiently. Let us see!"

He then applied the tip of his finger to the nail parallel to the onehe had drawn. Immediately the glass moved like a folding-door anddiscovered a secret closet, rather deep, in which the superintendentdisappeared as if going into a vast box. When there, he touched anotherspring, which opened, not a board, but a block of the wall, and he wentout by that opening, leaving the door to shut of itself. Then Fouquetdescended about a score of steps which sank, winding, underground, and came to a long, subterranean passage, lighted by imperceptibleloopholes. The walls of this vault were covered with slabs or tiles, and the floor with carpeting. This passage was under the street itself, which separated Fouquet's house from the Park of Vincennes. At the endof the passage ascended a winding staircase parallel with that by whichFouquet had entered. He mounted these other stairs, entered by meansof a spring placed in a closet similar to that in his cabinet, and fromthis closet an untenanted chamber furnished with the utmost elegance. As soon as he entered, he examined carefully whether the glassclosed without leaving any trace, and, doubtless satisfied withhis observation, he opened by means of a small gold key the triplefastenings of a door in front of him. This time the door opened upona handsome cabinet sumptuously furnished, in which was seated uponcushions a lady of surpassing beauty, who at the sound of the locksprang towards Fouquet. "Ah! good heavens!" cried the latter, startingback with astonishment. "Madame la Marquise de Belliere, you here?"

"Yes, " murmured la marquise. "Yes; it is I, monsieur. "

"Marquise! dear marquise!" added Fouquet, ready to prostrate himself. "Ah! my God! how did you come here? And I, to keep you waiting!"

"A long time, monsieur; yes, a very long time!"

"I am happy in thinking this waiting has appeared long to you, marquise!"

"Oh! an eternity, monsieur; oh! I rang more than twenty times. Did younot hear me?"

"Marquise, you are pale, you tremble. "

"Did you not hear, then, that you were summoned?"

"Oh, yes; I heard plainly enough, madame; but I could not come. Afteryour rigors and your refusals, how could I dream it was you? If I couldhave had any suspicion of the happiness that awaited me, believe me, madame, I would have quitted everything to fall at your feet, as I do atthis moment. "

"Are we quite alone, monsieur?" asked the marquise, looking round theroom. 

"Oh, yes, madame, I can assure you of that. "

"Really?" said the marquise, in a melancholy tone. 

"You sigh!" said Fouquet. 

"What mysteries! what precautions!" said the marquise, with a slightbitterness of expression; "and how evident it is that you fear the leastsuspicion of your amours to escape. "

"Would you prefer their being made public?"

"Oh, no; you act like a delicate man, " said the marquise, smiling. 

"Come, dear marquise, punish me not with reproaches, I implore you. "

"Reproaches! Have I a right to make you any?"

"No, unfortunately, no; but tell me, you, who during a year I have lovedwithout return or hope----"

"You are mistaken--without hope it is true, but not without return. "

"What! for me, of my love! there is but one proof, and that proof Istill want. "

"I am here to bring it, monsieur. "

Fouquet wished to clasp her in his arms, but she disengaged herself witha gesture. 

"You persist in deceiving yourself, monsieur, and never will accept ofme the only thing I am willing to give you--devotion. "

"Ah, then, you do not love me? Devotion is but a virtue, love is apassion. "

"Listen to me, I implore you: I should not have come hither without aserious motive: you are well assured of that, are you not?"

"The motive is of very little consequence, so that you are but here--sothat I see you--so that I speak to you!"

"You are right; the principal thing is that I am here without any onehaving seen me, and that I can speak to you. "--Fouquet sank on his kneesbefore her. "Speak! speak, madame!" said he, "I listen to you. "

The marquise looked at Fouquet, on his knees at her feet, and therewas in the looks of the woman a strange mixture of love and melancholy. "Oh!" at length murmured she, "would that I were she who has the rightof seeing you every minute, of speaking to you every instant! wouldthat I were she who might watch over you, she who would have no need ofmysterious springs, to summon and cause to appear, like a sylph, the manshe loves, to look at him for an hour, and then see him disappear in thedarkness of a mystery, still more strange at his going out than at hiscoming in. Oh! that would be to live a happy woman!"

"Do you happen, marquise, " said Fouquet, smiling, "to be speaking of mywife?"

"Yes, certainly, of her I spoke. "

"Well, you need not envy her lot, marquise; of all the women with whomI have any relations, Madame Fouquet is the one I see the least of, andwho has the least intercourse with me. "

"At least, monsieur, she is not reduced to place, as I have done, herhand upon the ornament of a glass to call you to her; at least you donot reply to her by the mysterious, alarming sound of a bell, the springof which comes from I don't know where; at least you have not forbiddenher to endeavor to discover the secret of these communications underpain of breaking off forever your connections with her, as you haveforbidden all who have come here before me, and all who will come afterme. "

"Dear marquise, how unjust you are, and how little do you know what youare doing in thus exclaiming against mystery; it is with mystery alonewe can love without trouble; it is with love without trouble alone thatwe can be happy. But let us return to ourselves, to that devotionof which you were speaking, or rather let me labor under a pleasingdelusion, and believe that this devotion is love. "

"Just now, " repeated the marquise, passing over her eyes a hand thatmight have been a model for the graceful contours of antiquity; "justnow I was prepared to speak, my ideas were clear and bold, now I amquite confused, quite troubled; I fear I bring you bad news. "

"If it is to that bad news I owe your presence, marquise, welcome beeven that bad news! or rather, marquise, since you allow that I am notquite indifferent to you, let me hear nothing of the bad news, but speakof yourself. "

"No, no, on the contrary, demand it of me; require me to tell it to youinstantly, and not to allow myself to be turned aside by any feelingwhatever. Fouquet, my friend! it is of immense importance!"

"You astonish me, marquise; I will even say you almost frighten me. You, so serious, so collected; you who know the world we live in so well. Isit, then important?"

"Oh! very important. "

"In the first place, how did you come here?"

"You shall know that presently; but first to something of moreconsequence. "

"Speak, marquise, speak! I implore you, have pity on my impatience. "

"Do you know that Colbert is made intendant of the finances?"

"Bah! Colbert, little Colbert. "

"Yes, Colbert, little Colbert. "

"Mazarin's factotum?"

"The same. "

"Well! what do you see so terrific in that, dear marquise? littleColbert is intendant; that is astonishing, I confess, but is notterrific. "

"Do you think the king has given, without a pressing motive, such aplace to one you call a little cuistre?"

"In the first place, is it positively true that the king has given it tohim?"

"It is so said. "

"Ay, but who says so?"

"Everybody. "

"Everybody, that's nobody; mention some one likely to be well informedwho says so. "

"Madame Vanel. "

"Ah! now you begin to frighten me in earnest, " said Fouquet, laughing;"if any one is well informed, or ought to be well informed, it is theperson you name. "

"Do not speak ill of poor Marguerite, Monsieur Fouquet, for she stillloves you. "

"Bah! indeed? That is scarcely credible. I thought little Colbert, asyou said just now, had passed over that love, and left the impressionupon it of a spot of ink or a stain of grease. "

"Fouquet! Fouquet! Is this the way you always treat the poor creaturesyou desert?"

"Why, you surely are not going to undertake the defense of MadameVanel?"

"Yes, I will undertake it: for, I repeat, she loves you still, and theproof is she saves you. "

"But your interposition, marquise; that is very cunning on her part. Noangel could be more agreeable to me, or could lead me more certainly tosalvation. But, let me ask you do you know Marguerite?"

"She was my convent friend. "

"And you say that she has informed you that Monsieur Colbert was namedintendant?"

"Yes, she did. "

"Well, enlighten me, marquise; granted Monsieur Colbert is intendant--sobe it. In what can an intendant, that is to say my subordinate, myclerk, give me umbrage or injure me, even if he is Monsieur Colbert?"

"You do not reflect, monsieur, apparently, " replied the marquise. 

"Upon what?"

"This: that Monsieur Colbert hates you. "

"Hates me?" cried Fouquet. "Good heavens! marquise, whence do you come?where can you live? Hates me! why all the world hates me, he, of courseas others do. "

"He more than others. "

"More than others--let him. "

"He is ambitious. "

"Who is not, marquise?"

"'Yes, but with him ambition has no bounds. "

"I am quite aware of that, since he made it a point to succeed me withMadame Vanel. "

"And obtained his end; look at that. "

"Do you mean to say he has the presumption to hope to pass fromintendant to superintendent?"

"Have you not yourself already had the same fear?"

"Oh! oh!" said Fouquet, "to succeed with Madame Vanel is one thing, tosucceed me with the king is another. France is not to be purchased soeasily as the wife of a maitre des comptes. "

"Eh! monsieur, everything is to be bought; if not by gold, by intrigue. "

"Nobody knows to the contrary better than you, madame, you to whom Ihave offered millions. "

"Instead of millions, Fouquet, you should have offered me a true, onlyand boundless love: I might have accepted that. So you see, still, everything is to be bought, if not in one way, by another. "

"So, Colbert, in your opinion, is in a fair way of bargaining formy place of superintendent. Make yourself easy on that head, my dearmarquise; he is not yet rich enough to purchase it. "

"But if he should rob you of it?"

"Ah! that is another thing. Unfortunately, before he can reach me, thatis to say, the body of the place, he must destroy, must make a breach inthe advanced works, and I am devilishly well fortified, marquise. "

"What you call your advanced works are your creatures, are theynot--your friends?"

"Exactly so. "

"And is M. D'Eymeris one of your creatures?"

"Yes, he is. "

"Is M. Lyodot one of your friends?"

"Certainly. "

"M. De Vanin?"

"M. De Vanin! ah! they may do what they like with him, but----"

"But----"

"But they must not touch the others!"

"Well, if you are anxious they should not touch MM. D'Eymeris andLyodot, it is time to look about you. "

"Who threatens them?"

"Will you listen to me now?"

"Attentively, marquise. "

"Without interrupting me?"

"Speak. "

"Well, this morning Marguerite sent for me. "

"And what did she want with you?"

"'I dare not see M. Fouquet myself, ' said she. "

"Bah! why should she think I would reproach her? Poor woman, she vastlydeceives herself. "

"'See him yourself, ' said she, 'and tell him to beware of M. Colbert. '"

"What! she warned me to beware of her lover?"

"I have told you she still loves you. "

"Go on, marquise. "

"'M. Colbert, ' she added, 'came to me two hours ago, to inform me he wasappointed intendant. '"

"I have already told you marquise, that M. Colbert would only be themore in my power for that. "

"Yes, but that is not all: Marguerite is intimate, as you know, withMadame d'Eymeris and Madame Lyodot. "

"I know it. "

"Well, M. Colbert put many questions to her, relative to the fortunes ofthose two gentlemen, and as to the devotion they had for you. "

"Oh, as to those two, I can answer for them; they must be killed beforethey will cease to be mine. "

"Then, as Madame Vanel was obliged to quit M. Colbert for an instant toreceive a visitor, and as M. Colbert is industrious, scarcely was thenew intendant left alone, before he took a pencil from his pocket, andas there was paper on the table, began to make notes. "

"Notes concerning d'Eymeris and Lyodot?"

"Exactly. "

"I should like to know what those notes were about. "

"And that is just what I have brought you. "

"Madame Vanel has taken Colbert's notes and sent them to me?"

"No, but by a chance which resembles a miracle, she has a duplicate ofthose notes. "

"How could she get that?"

"Listen; I told you that Colbert found paper on the table. "

"Yes. "

"That he took a pencil from his pocket. "

"Yes. "

"And wrote upon that paper. "

"Yes. "

"Well, this pencil was a lead-pencil, consequently hard; so it marked inblack upon the first sheet, and in white upon the second. "

"Go on. "

"Colbert, when tearing off the first sheet, took no notice of thesecond. "

"Well?"

"Well, on the second was to be read what had been written on the first, Madame Vanel read it, and sent for me. "

"Yes, yes. "

"Then, when she was assured I was your devoted friend, she gave me thepaper, and told me the secret of this house. "

"And this paper?" said Fouquet, in some degree of agitation. 

"Here it is, monsieur--read it, " said the marquise. 

Fouquet read:

"Names of the farmers of revenue to be condemned by the Chamber ofJustice: D'Eymeris, friend of M. F. ; Lyodot, friend of M. F. ; De Vanin, indif. "

"D'Eymeris and Lyodot!" cried Fouquet, reading the paper eagerly again. 

"Friends of M. F. , " pointed the marquise with her finger. 

"But what is the meaning of these words: 'To be condemned by the Chamberof Justice'?"

"Dame!" said the marquise, "that is clear enough, I think. Besides, thatis not all. Read on, read on;" and Fouquet continued, ---"The two firstto death, the third to be dismissed, with MM. D'Hautemont and de laVallette, who will only have their property confiscated. "

"Great God!" cried Fouquet, "to death, to death! Lyodot and D'Eymeris. But even if the Chamber of Justice should condemn them to death, theking will never ratify their condemnation, and they cannot be executedwithout the king's signature. "

"The king has made M. Colbert intendant. "

"Oh!" cried Fouquet, as if he caught a glimpse of the abyss that yawnedbeneath his feet, "impossible! impossible! But who passed a pencil overthe marks made by Colbert?"

"I did. I was afraid the first would be effaced. "

"Oh! I will know all. "

"You will know nothing, monsieur; you despise your enemy too much forthat. "

"Pardon me, my dear marquise; excuse me; yes, M. Colbert is my enemy, Ibelieve him to be so; yes, M. Colbert is a man to be dreaded, I admit. But I! I have time, and as you are here, as you have assured me ofyour devotion, as you have allowed me to hope for your love, as we arealone----"

"I came here to save you, Monsieur Fouquet, and not to ruin myself, "said the marquise, rising--"therefore, beware!----"

"Marquise, in truth you terrify yourself too much at least, unless thisterror is but a pretext----"

"He is very deep, very deep; this M. Colbert: beware!"

Fouquet, in his turn, drew himself up. "And I?" asked he. 

"And you, you have only a noble heart. Beware! beware!"

"So?"

"I have done what was right, my friend, at the risk of my reputation. Adieu!"

"Not adieu, au revoir!"

"Perhaps, " said the marquise, giving her hand to Fouquet to kiss, andwalking towards the door with so firm a step, that he did not dare tobar her passage. As to Fouquet, he retook, with his head hanging downand a fixed cloud on his brow, the path of the subterranean passagealong which ran the metal wires that communicated from one house tothe other, transmitting, through two glasses, the wishes and signals ofhidden correspondents. 

CHAPTER 55. The Abbe Fouquet

Fouquet hastened back to his apartment by the subterranean passage, andimmediately closed the mirror with the spring. He was scarcely in hiscloset, when he heard some one knocking violently at the door, and awell-known voice crying:--"Open the door, monseigneur, I entreat you, open the door!" Fouquet quickly restored a little order to everythingthat might have revealed either his absence or his agitation: he spreadhis papers over the desk, took up a pen, and, to gain time, said, through the closed door, --"Who is there?"

"What, monseigneur, do you not know me?" replied the voice. 

"Yes, yes, " said Fouquet to himself, "yes, my friend I know you wellenough. " And then, aloud: "Is it not Gourville?"

"Why, yes, monseigneur. "

Fouquet arose, cast a last look at one of his glasses, went to thedoor, pushed back the bolt, and Gourville entered. "Ah, monseigneur!monseigneur!" cried he, "what cruelty!"

"In what?"

"I have been a quarter of an hour imploring you to open the door, andyou would not even answer me. "

"Once for all, you know that I will not be disturbed when I am busy. Now, although I might make you an exception, Gourville, I insist upon myorders being respected by others. "

"Monseigneur, at this moment, orders, doors, bolts, locks, and walls, Icould have broken, forced and overthrown!"

"Ah! ah! it relates to some great event, then?" asked Fouquet. 

"Oh! I assure you it does, monseigneur, " replied Gourville. 

"And what is this event?" said Fouquet, a little troubled by the evidentagitation of his most intimate confidant. 

"There is a secret chamber of justice instituted, monseigneur. "

"I know there is, but do the members meet, Gourville?"

"They not only meet, but they have passed a sentence, monseigneur. "

"A sentence?" said the superintendent, with a shudder and pallor hecould not conceal. "A sentence!--and on whom?"

"Two of your best friends. "

"Lyodot and D'Eymeris, do you mean? But what sort of a sentence?"

"Sentence of death. "

"Passed? Oh! you must be mistaken, Gourville; that is impossible. "

"Here is a copy of the sentence which the king is to sign to-day, if hehas not already signed it. "

Fouquet seized the paper eagerly, read it, and returned it to Gourville. "The king will never sign that, " said he. 

Gourville shook his head. 

"Monseigneur, M. Colbert is a bold councilor: do not be too confident!"

"Monsieur Colbert again!" cried Fouquet. "How is it that that name risesupon all occasions to torment my ears, during the last two or threedays? Thou make so trifling a subject of too much importance, Gourville. Let M. Colbert appear, I will face him; let him raise his head, I willcrush him; but you understand, there must be an outline upon whichmy look may fall, there must be a surface upon which my feet may beplaced. "

"Patience, monseigneur, for you do not know what Colbert is--study himquickly; it is with this dark financier as it is with meteors, which theeye never sees completely before their disastrous invasion; when we feelthem we are dead. "

"Oh! Gourville, this is going too far, " replied Fouquet, smiling; "allowme, my friend, not to be so easily frightened; M. Colbert a meteor!Corbleu, we confront the meteor. Let us see acts, and not words. Whathas he done?"

"He has ordered two gibbets of the executioner of Paris, " answeredGourville. 

Fouquet raised his head, and a flash gleamed from his eyes. "Are yousure of what you say?" cried he. 

"Here is the proof, monseigneur. " And Gourville held out to thesuperintendent a note communicated by a certain secretary of the Hotelde Ville, who was one of Fouquet's creatures. 

"Yes, that is true, " murmured the minister; "the scaffold may beprepared, but the king has not signed; Gourville, the king will notsign. "

"I shall soon know, " said Gourville. 

"How?"

"If the king has signed, the gibbets will be sent this evening to theHotel de Ville, in order to be got up and ready by to-morrow morning. "

"Oh! no, no!" cried the superintendent once again; "you are alldeceived, and deceive me in my turn; Lyodot came to see me only theday before yesterday; only three days ago I received a present of someSyracuse wine from poor D'Eymeris. "

"What does that prove?" replied Gourville, "except that the chamber ofjustice has been secretly assembled, has deliberated in the absence ofthe accused, and that the whole proceeding was complete when they werearrested. "

"What! are they, then, arrested?"

"No doubt they are. "

"But where, when, and how have they been arrested?"

"Lyodot, yesterday at daybreak; D'Eymeris, the day before yesterday, inthe evening, as he was returning from the house of his mistress; theirdisappearance had disturbed nobody; but at length M. Colbert all atonce raised the mask, and caused the affair to be published; it isbeing cried by sound of trumpet, at this moment in Paris, and, in truth, monseigneur, there is scarcely anybody but yourself ignorant of theevent. "

Fouquet began to walk about his chamber with an uneasiness that becamemore and more serious. 

"What do you decide upon, monseigneur?" said Gourville. 

"If it really were as you say, I would go to the king, " cried Fouquet. "But as I go to the Louvre, I will pass by the Hotel de Ville. We shallsee if the sentence is signed. "

"Incredulity! thou art the pest of all great minds, " said Gourville, shrugging his shoulders. 

"Gourville!"

"Yes, " continued he, "and incredulity! thou ruinest, as contagiondestroys the most robust health, that is to say, in an instant. "

"Let us go, " cried Fouquet; "desire the door to be opened, Gourville. "

"Be cautious, " said the latter, "the Abbe Fouquet is there. "

"Ah! my brother, " replied Fouquet, in a tone of annoyance, "he is there, is he? he knows all the ill news, then, and is rejoiced to bring it tome, as usual. The devil! if my brother is there, my affairs are bad, Gourville; why did you not tell me that sooner: I should have been themore readily convinced. "

"'Monseigneur calumniates him, " said Gourville, laughing, "if he iscome, it is not with a bad intention. "

"What, do you excuse him?" cried Fouquet; "a fellow without a heart, without ideas; a devourer of wealth. "

"He knows you are rich. "

"And would ruin me. "

"No, but he would like to have your purse. That is all. "

"Enough! enough! A hundred thousand crowns per month, during two years. Corbleu! it is I that pay, Gourville, and I know my figures. " Gourvillelaughed in a silent, sly manner. "Yes, yes, you mean to say it is theking pays, " said the superintendent. "Ah, Gourville, that is a vilejoke; this is not the place. "

"Monseigneur, do not be angry. "

"Well, then, send away the Abbe Fouquet; I have not a sou. " Gourvillemade a step towards the door. "He has been a month without seeing me, "continued Fouquet, "why could he not be two months?"

"Because he repents of living in bad company, " said Gourville, "andprefers you to all his bandits. "

"Thanks for the preference! You make a strange advocate, Gourville, to-day--the advocate of the Abbe Fouquet!"

"Eh! but everything and every man has a good side--their useful side, monseigneur. "

"The bandits whom the abbe keeps in pay and drink have their usefulside, have they? Prove that, if you please. "

"Let the circumstance arise, monseigneur, and you will be very glad tohave these bandits under your hand. "

"You advise me, then, to be reconciled to the abbe?" said Fouquet, ironically. 

"I advise you, monseigneur, not to quarrel with a hundred or a hundredand twenty loose fellows, who, by putting their rapiers end to end, would form a cordon of steel capable of surrounding three thousand men. "

Fouquet darted a searching glance at Gourville, and passing beforehim, --"That is all very well, let M. L'Abbe Fouquet be introduced, " saidhe to the footman. "You are right, Gourville. "

Two minutes after, the Abbe Fouquet appeared in the doorway, withprofound reverences. He was a man of from forty to forty-five years ofage, half churchman half soldier, --a spadassin, grafted upon an abbe;upon seeing that he had not a sword by his side, you might be sure hehad pistols. Fouquet saluted him more as an elder brother than as aminister. 

"What can I do to serve you, monsieur l'abbe?" said he. 

"Oh! oh! how coldly you speak to me, brother!"

"I speak like a man who is in a hurry, monsieur. "

The abbe looked maliciously at Gourville, and anxiously at Fouquet, andsaid, "I have three hundred pistoles to pay to M. De Bregi this evening. A play debt, a sacred debt. "

"What next?" said Fouquet bravely, for he comprehended that the AbbeFouquet would not have disturbed him for such a want. 

"A thousand to my butcher, who will supply no more meat. "

"Next?"

"Twelve hundred to my tailor, " continued the abbe; "the fellow has mademe take back seven suits of my people's, which compromises my liveries, and my mistress talks of replacing me by a farmer of the revenue, whichwould be a humiliation for the church. "

"What else?" said Fouquet. 

"You will please to remark, " said the abbe, humbly, "that I have askednothing for myself. "

"That is delicate, monsieur, " replied Fouquet; "so, as you see, I wait. "

"And I ask nothing, oh! no, --it is not for want of need, though, Iassure you. "

The minister reflected a minute. "Twelve hundred pistoles to the tailor;that seems a great deal for clothes, " said he. 

"I maintain a hundred men, " said the abbe, proudly; "that is a charge, Ibelieve. "

"Why a hundred men?" said Fouquet. "Are you a Richelieu or a Mazarin, to require a hundred men as a guard? What use do you make of thesemen?--speak. "

"And do you ask me that?" cried the Abbe Fouquet; "ah! how can you putsuch a question, --why I maintain a hundred men? Ah!"

"Why, yes, I do put that question to you. What have you to do with ahundred men?--answer. "

"Ingrate!" continued the abbe, more and more affected. 

"Explain yourself. "

"Why, monsieur the superintendent, I only want one valet de chambre, formy part, and even if I were alone, could help myself very well; but you, you who have so many enemies--a hundred men are not enough for me todefend you with. A hundred men!--you ought to have ten thousand. Imaintain, then, these men in order that in public places, in assemblies, no voice may be raised against you, and without them, monsieur, youwould be loaded with imprecations, you would be torn to pieces, youwould not last a week; no, not a week, do you understand?"

"Ah! I did not know you were my champion to such an extent, monsieurl'abbe. "

"You doubt it!" cried the abbe. "Listen, then, to what happened, no longer ago than yesterday, in the Rue de la Hochette. A man wascheapening a fowl. "

"Well, how could that injure me, abbe?"

"This way. The fowl was not fat. The purchaser refused to give eighteensous for it, saying that he could not afford eighteen sous for the skinof a fowl from which M. Fouquet had sucked all the fat. "

"Go on. "

"The joke caused a deal of laughter, " continued the abbe; "laughter atyour expense, death to the devils! and the canaille were delighted. Thejoker added, 'Give me a fowl fed by M. Colbert, if you like! and Iwill pay all you ask. ' And immediately there was a clapping of hands. Afrightful scandal! you understand; a scandal which forces a brother tohide his face. "

Fouquet colored. "And you veiled it?" said the superintendent. 

"No, for it so happened I had one of my men in the crowd; a new recruitfrom the provinces, one M. Menneville, whom I like very much. He madehis way through the press, saying to the joker: 'Mille barbes! Monsieurthe false joker, here's a thrust for Colbert!' 'And one for Fouquet, 'replied the joker. Upon which they drew in front of the cook's shop, with a hedge of the curious round them, and five hundred as curious atthe windows. "

"Well?" said Fouquet. 

"Well, monsieur, my Menneville spitted the joker, to the greatastonishment of the spectators, and said to the cook:--'Take this goose, my friend, it is fatter than your fowl. ' That is the way, monsieur, "ended the abbe, triumphantly, "in which I spend my revenues; I maintainthe honor of the family, monsieur. " Fouquet hung his head. "And I have ahundred as good as he, " continued the abbe. 

"Very well, " said Fouquet, "give the account to Gourville, and remainhere this evening. "

"Shall we have supper?"

"Yes, there will be supper. "

"But the chest is closed. "

"Gourville will open it for you. Leave us, monsieur l'abbe, leave us. "

"Then we are friends?" said the abbe, with a bow. 

"Oh yes, friends. Come Gourville. "

"Are you going out? You will not stay to supper, then?"

"I shall be back in an hour; rest easy, abbe. " Then aside toGourville--"Let them put to my English horses, " said he, "and direct thecoachman to stop at the Hotel de Ville de Paris. "

CHAPTER 56. M. De la Fontaine's Wine

Carriages were already bringing the guests of Fouquet to Saint-Mande;already the whole house was getting warm with the preparations forsupper, when the superintendent launched his fleet horses upon the roadto Paris, and going by the quays, in order to meet fewer people on theway, soon reached the Hotel de Ville. It wanted a quarter to eight. Fouquet alighted at the corner of the Rue de Long-pont, and, onfoot, directed his course towards the Place de Greve, accompanied byGourville. At the turning of the Place they saw a man dressed in blackand violet, of dignified mien, who was preparing to get into a hiredcarriage, and told the coachman to stop at Vincennes. He had before hima large hamper filled with bottles, which he had just purchased at thecabaret with the sign of "L'Image-de-Notre-Dame. "

"Eh, but! that is Vatel! my maitre d'hotel!" said Fouquet to Gourville. 

"Yes, monseigneur, " replied the latter. 

"What can he have been doing at the sign of L'Image-de-Notre-Dame?"

"Buying wine, no doubt. "

"What! buy wine for me, at a cabaret?" said Fouquet. "My cellar, then, must be in a miserable condition!" and he advanced towards the maitred'hotel who was arranging his bottles in the carriage with the mostminute care. 

"Hola! Vatel, " said he, in the voice of a master. 

"Take care, monseigneur!" said Gourville, "you will be recognized. "

"Very well! Of what consequence?--Vatel!

The man dressed in black and violet turned round. He had a good andmild countenance, without expression--a mathematician minus the pride. Acertain fire sparkled in the eyes of this personage, a rather sly smileplayed round his lips; but the observer might soon have remarked thatthis fire and this smile applied to nothing, enlightened nothing. Vatellaughed like an absent man, and amused himself like a child. Atthe sound of his master's voice he turned round, exclaiming: "Oh!monseigneur!"

"Yes, it is I. What the devil are you doing here, Vatel? Wine! You arebuying wine at a cabaret in the Place de Greve!"

"But, monseigneur, " said Vatel, quietly, after having darted a hostileglance at Gourville, "why am I interfered with here? Is my cellar keptin bad order?"

"No, certes, Vatel, no, but----"

"But what?" replied Vatel. Gourville touched Fouquet's elbow. 

"Don't be angry, Vatel, I thought my cellar--your cellar--sufficientlywell stocked for us to be able to dispense with recourse to the cellarof L'Image de-Notre-Dame. "

"Eh, monsieur, " said Vatel, shrinking from monseigneur to monsieur witha degree of disdain: "your cellar is so well stocked that when certainof your guests dine with you they have nothing to drink. "

Fouquet, in great surprise, looked at Gourville. "What do you mean bythat?"

"I mean that your butler had not wine for all tastes, monsieur; and thatM. De la Fontaine, M. Pellisson, and M. Conrart, do not drink when theycome to the house--these gentlemen do not like strong wine. What is tobe done, then?"

"Well, and therefore?"

"Well, then, I have found here a vin de Joigny, which they like. I knowthey come once a week to drink at the Image-de-Notre-Dame. That is thereason I am making this provision. "

Fouquet had no more to say; he was convinced. Vatel, on his part, hadmuch more to say, without doubt, and it was plain he was getting warm. "It is just as if you would reproach me, monseigneur, for going to theRue Planche Milbray, to fetch, myself, the cider M. Loret drinks when hecomes to dine at your house. "

"Loret drinks cider at my house!" cried Fouquet, laughing. 

"Certainly he does, monsieur, and that is the reason why he dines therewith pleasure. "

"Vatel, " cried Fouquet, pressing the hand of his maitre d'hotel, "youare a man! I thank you, Vatel, for having understood that at my houseM. De la Fontaine, M. Conrart, and M. Loret, are as great as dukes andpeers, as great as princes, greater than myself. Vatel, you are a goodservant, and I double your salary. "

Vatel did not even thank his master, he merely shrugged his shoulders alittle, murmuring this superb sentiment: "To be thanked for having doneone's duty is humiliating. "

"He is right, " said Gourville, as he drew Fouquet's attention, by agesture, to another point. He showed him a low-built tumbrel, drawn bytwo horses, upon which rocked two strong gibbets, bound together, back to back, by chains, whilst an archer, seated upon the cross-beam, suffered, as well as he could, with his head cast down, the commentsof a hundred vagabonds, who guessed the destination of the gibbets, and were escorting them to the Hotel de Ville. Fouquet started. "It isdecided, you see, " said Gourville. 

"But it is not done, " replied Fouquet. 

"Oh, do not flatter yourself, monseigneur; if they have thus lulled yourfriendship and suspicions--if things have gone so far, you will be ableto undo nothing. "

"But I have not given my sanction. "

"M. De Lyonne has ratified for you. "

"I will go to the Louvre. "

"Oh, no, you will not. "

"Would you advise such baseness?" cried Fouquet, "would you advise me toabandon my friends? would you advise me, whilst able to fight, to throwthe arms I hold in my hand to the ground?"

"I do not advise you to do anything of the kind, monseigneur. Are you ina position to quit the post of superintendent at this moment?"

"No. "

"Well, if the king wishes to displace you----"

"He will displace me absent as well as present. "

"Yes, but you will not have insulted him. "

"Yes, but I shall have been base; now I am not willing that my friendsshould die; and they shall not die!"

"For that it is necessary you should go to the Louvre, is it not?"

"Gourville!"

"Beware! once at the Louvre, you will be forced to defend your friendsopenly, that is to say, to make a profession of faith; or you will beforced to abandon them irrevocably. "

"Never!"

"Pardon me, --the king will propose the alternative to you, rigorously, or else you will propose it to him yourself. "

"That is true. "

"That is the reason why conflict must be avoided. Let us return toSaint-Mande, monseigneur. "

"Gourville, I will not stir from this place, where the crime is to becarried out, where my disgrace is to be accomplished; I will not stir, Isay, till I have found some means of combating my enemies. "

"Monseigneur, " replied Gourville, "you would excite my pity, if I didnot know you for one of the great spirits of this world. You possess ahundred and fifty millions, you are equal to the king in position, anda hundred and fifty millions his superior in money. M. Colbert has noteven had the wit to have the will of Mazarin accepted. Now, when a manis the richest person in a kingdom, and will take the trouble to spendthe money, if things are done he does not like it is because he is apoor man. Let us return to Saint-Mande, I say. "

"To consult with Pellisson?--we will. "

"So be it, " said Fouquet, with angry eyes;--"yes, to Saint-Mande!" Hegot into his carriage again and Gourville with him. Upon their road, atthe end of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, they overtook the humble equipageof Vatel, who was quietly conveying home his vin de Joigny. The blackhorses, going at a swift pace, alarmed as they passed, the timid hack ofthe maitre d'hotel, who, putting his head out at the window, cried, in afright, "Take care of my bottles!"

CHAPTER 57. The Gallery of Saint-Mande

Fifty persons were waiting for the superintendent. He did not even takethe time to place himself in the hands of his valet de chambre for aminute, but from the perron went straight into the premier salon. Therehis friends were assembled in full chat. The intendant was about toorder supper to be served, but, above all, the Abbe Fouquet watched forthe return of his brother, and was endeavoring to do the honors of thehouse in his absence. Upon the arrival of the superintendent, a murmurof joy and affection was heard; Fouquet, full of affability, good humor, and munificence, was beloved by his poets, his artists, and his men ofbusiness. His brow, upon which his little court read, as upon that ofa god, all the movements of his soul, and thence drew rules ofconduct, --his brow, upon which affairs of state never impressed awrinkle, was this evening paler than usual, and more than one friendlyeye remarked that pallor. Fouquet placed himself at the head of thetable, and presided gayly during supper. He recounted Vatel's expeditionto La Fontaine, related the history of Menneville and the skinny fowlto Pellisson, in such a manner that all the table heard it. A tempest oflaughter and jokes ensued, which was only checked by a serious andeven sad gesture from Pellisson. The Abbe Fouquet, not being able tocomprehend why his brother should have led the conversation in thatdirection, listened with all his ears, and sought in the countenanceof Gourville, or in that of his brother, an explanation which nothingafforded him. Pellisson took up the matter:--"Did they mention M. Colbert, then?" said he. 

"Why not?" replied Fouquet; "if true, as it is said to be, that the kinghas made him his intendant?" Scarcely had Fouquet uttered these words, with a marked intention, than an explosion broke forth among the guests. 

"The miser!" said one. 

"The mean, pitiful fellow!" said another. 

"The hypocrite!" said a third. 

Pellisson exchanged a meaning look with Fouquet. "Messieurs, " saidhe, "in truth we are abusing a man whom no one knows: it is neithercharitable nor reasonable; and here is monsieur le surintendant, who, Iam sure, agrees with me. "

"Entirely, " replied Fouquet. "Let the fat fowls of M. Colbert alone; ourbusiness to-day is with the faisans truffes of M. Vatel. " This speechstopped the dark cloud which was beginning to throw its shade over theguests. Gourville succeeded so well in animating the poets with thevin de Joigny; the abbe, intelligent as a man who stands in need ofhis host's money, so enlivened the financiers and the men of the sword, that, amidst the vapors of this joy and the noise of conversation, inquietudes disappeared completely. The will of Cardinal Mazarin was thetext of the conversation at the second course and dessert; then Fouquetordered bowls of sweetmeats and fountains of liquors to be carried intothe salon adjoining the gallery. He led the way thither conductingby the hand a lady, the queen, by his preference, of the evening. Themusicians then supped, and the promenades in the gallery and the gardenscommenced, beneath a spring sky, mild and flower-scented. Pellissonthen approached the superintendent, and said: "Something troublesmonseigneur?"

"Greatly, " replied the minister, "ask Gourville to tell you what it is. "Pellisson, on turning round, found La Fontaine treading upon his heels. He was obliged to listen to a Latin verse, which the poet had composedupon Vatel. La Fontaine had, for an hour, been scanning this verse inall corners, seeking some one to pour it out upon advantageously. Hethought he had caught Pellisson, but the latter escaped him; he turnedtowards Sorel, who had, himself, just composed a quatrain in honor ofthe supper, and the Amphytrion. La Fontaine in vain endeavored togain attention to his verses; Sorel wanted to obtain a hearing for hisquatrain. He was obliged to retreat before M. Le Comte de Chanost whosearm Fouquet had just taken. L'Abbe Fouquet perceived that the poet, absent-minded, as usual, was about to follow the two talkers, and heinterposed. La Fontaine seized upon him, and recited his verses. Theabbe, who was quite innocent of Latin, nodded his head, in cadence, atevery roll which La Fontaine impressed upon his body, according to theundulations of the dactyls and spondees. While this was going on, behind the confiture-basins, Fouquet related the event of the day to hisson-in-law, M. De Chanost. "We will send the idle and useless to look atthe fireworks, " said Pellisson to Gourville, "whilst we converse here. "

"So be it, " said Gourville, addressing four words to Vatel. The latterthen led towards the gardens the major part of the beaux, the ladies andthe chatterers, whilst the men walked in the gallery, lighted by threehundred wax-lights, in the sight of all; the admirers of fireworks allran away towards the garden. Gourville approached Fouquet, and said:"Monsieur, we are here. "

"All!" said Fouquet. 

"Yes, --count. " The superintendent counted; there were eight persons. Pellisson and Gourville walked arm in arm, as if conversing upon vagueand frivolous subjects. Sorel and two officers imitated them, in anopposite direction. The Abbe Fouquet walked alone. Fouquet, with M. De Chanost, walked as if entirely absorbed in the conversation of hisson-in-law. "Messieurs, " said he, "let no one of you raise his head ashe walks, or appear to pay attention to me; continue walking, we arealone, listen to me. "

A perfect silence ensued, disturbed only by the distant cries of thejoyous guests, from the groves whence they beheld the fireworks. It wasa whimsical spectacle this, of these men walking in groups, as if eachone was occupied about something, whilst lending attention really toonly one amongst them, who, himself, seemed to be speaking only to hiscompanion. "Messieurs, " said Fouquet, "you have, without doubt, remarkedthe absence of two of my friends this evening, who were with us onWednesday. For God's sake, abbe, do not stop, --it is not necessary toenable you to listen; walk on, carrying your head in a natural way, andas you have an excellent sight, place yourself at the window, and if anyone returns towards the gallery, give us notice by coughing. "

The abbe obeyed. 

"I have not observed their absence, " said Pellisson, who, at thismoment, was turning his back to Fouquet and walking the other way. 

"I do not see M. Lyodot, " said Sorel, "who pays me my pension. "

"And I, " said the abbe, at the window, "do not see M. D'Eymeris, whoowes me eleven hundred livres from our last game at Brelan. "

"Sorel, " continued Fouquet, walking bent, and gloomily, "you will neverreceive your pension any more from M. Lyodot; and you, abbe, will neverbe paid your eleven hundred livres by M. D'Eymeris, for both are doomedto die. "

"To die!" exclaimed the whole assembly, arrested, in spite ofthemselves, in the comedy they were playing, by that terrible word. 

"Recover yourselves, messieurs, " said Fouquet, "for perhaps we arewatched--I said: to die!"

"To die!" repeated Pellisson; "what, the men I saw six days ago, fullof health, gayety, and the spirit of the future! What then is man, goodGod! that disease should thus bring him down, all at once!"

"It is not a disease, " said Fouquet. 

"Then there is a remedy, " said Sorel. 

"No remedy. Messieurs de Lyodot and D'Eymeris are on the eve of theirlast day. "

"Of what are these gentlemen dying, then?" asked an officer. 

"Ask of him who kills them, " replied Fouquet. 

"Who kills them? Are they being killed, then?" cried the terrifiedchorus. 

"They do better still; they are hanging them, " murmured Fouquet, in asinister voice, which sounded like a funeral knell in that rich gallery, splendid with pictures, flowers, velvet, and gold. Involuntarily everyone stopped; the abbe quitted his window; the first fusees of thefireworks began to mount above the trees. A prolonged cry from thegardens attracted the superintendent to enjoy the spectacle. Hedrew near to a window, and his friends placed themselves behind him, attentive to his least wish. "Messieurs, " said he, "M. Colbert hascaused to be arrested, tried and will execute my two friends; what doesit become me to do?"

"Mordieu!" exclaimed the abbe, the first one to speak, "run M. Colbertthrough the body. "

"Monseigneur, " said Pellisson, "you must speak to his majesty. "

"The king, my dear Pellisson, himself signed the order for theexecution. "

"Well!" said the Comte de Chanost, "the execution must not take place, then; that is all. "

"Impossible, " said Gourville, "unless we could corrupt the jailers. "

"Or the governor, " said Fouquet. 

"This night the prisoners might be allowed to escape. "

"Which of you will take charge of the transaction?"

"I, " said the abbe, "will carry the money. "

"And I, " said Pellisson, "will be the bearer of the words. "

"Words and money, " said Fouquet, "five hundred thousand livres to thegovernor of the conciergerie, that is sufficient, nevertheless, it shallbe a million, if necessary. "

"A million!" cried the abbe; "why, for less than half, I would have halfParis sacked. "

"There must be no disorder, " said Pellisson. "The governor being gained, the two prisoners escape; once clear of the fangs of the law, they willcall together the enemies of Colbert, and prove to the king that hisyoung justice, like all other monstrosities, is not infallible. "

"Go to Paris, then, Pellisson, " said Fouquet, "and bring hither the twovictims; to-morrow we shall see. "

Gourville gave Pellisson the five hundred thousand livres. "Takecare the wind does not carry you away, " said the abbe; "what aresponsibility. Peste! Let me help you a little. "

"Silence!" said Fouquet, "somebody is coming. Ah! the fireworks areproducing a magical effect. " At this moment a shower of sparks fellrustling among the branches of the neighboring trees. Pellissonand Gourville went out together by the door of the gallery; Fouquetdescended to the garden with the five last plotters. 

CHAPTER 58. Epicureans

As Fouquet was giving, or appearing to give, all his attention tothe brilliant illuminations, the languishing music of the violinsand hautboys, the sparkling sheaves of the artificial fires, which, inflaming the heavens with glowing reflections, marked behind thetrees the dark profile of the donjon of Vincennes; as, we say, thesuperintendent was smiling on the ladies and the poets the fete wasevery whit as gay as usual; and Vatel, whose restless, even jealouslook, earnestly consulted the aspect of Fouquet, did not appeardissatisfied with the welcome given to the ordering of the evening'sentertainment. The fireworks over, the company dispersed about thegardens and beneath the marble porticoes with the delightful libertywhich reveals in the master of the house so much forgetfulnessof greatness, so much courteous hospitality, so much magnificentcarelessness. The poets wandered about, arm in arm, through the groves;some reclined upon beds of moss, to the great damage of velvet clothesand curled heads, into which little dried leaves and blades of grassinsinuated themselves. The ladies, in small numbers, listened to thesongs of the singers and the verses of the poets; others listened to theprose, spoken with much art, by men who were neither actors nor poets, but to whom youth and solitude gave an unaccustomed eloquence, whichappeared to them better than everything else in the world. "Why, " saidLa Fontaine, "does not our master Epicurus descend into the garden?Epicurus never abandoned his pupils, the master is wrong. "

"Monsieur, " said Conrart, "you yourself are in the wrong persisting indecorating yourself with the name of an Epicurean; indeed, nothing herereminds me of the doctrine of the philosopher of Gargetta. "

"Bah!" said La Fontaine, "is it not written that Epicurus purchased alarge garden and lived in it tranquilly with his friends?"

"That is true. "

"Well, has not M. Fouquet purchased a large garden at Saint-Mande, anddo we not live here very tranquilly with him and his friends?"

"Yes, without doubt; unfortunately it is neither the garden nor thefriends which constitute the resemblance. Now, what likeness is therebetween the doctrine of Epicurus and that of M. Fouquet?"

"This--pleasure gives happiness. "

"Next?"

"Well, I do not think we ought to consider ourselves unfortunate, formy part, at least. A good repast--vin de Foigny, which they have thedelicacy to go and fetch for me from my favorite cabaret--not oneimpertinence heard during a supper an hour long, in spite of thepresence of ten millionaires and twenty poets. "

"I stop you there. You mentioned vin de Foigny, and a good repast, doyou persist in that?"

"I persist, --anteco, as they say at Port Royal. "

"Then please to recollect that the great Epicurus lived, and made hispupils live, upon bread, vegetables, and water. "

"That is not certain, " said La Fontaine; "and you appear to me to beconfounding Epicurus with Pythagoras, my dear Conrart. "

"Remember, likewise, that the ancient philosopher was rather a badfriend of the gods and the magistrates. "

"Oh! that is what I will not admit, " replied La Fontaine. "Epicurus waslike M. Fouquet. "

"Do not compare him to monsieur le surintendant, " said Conrart, in anagitated voice, "or you would accredit the reports which are circulatedconcerning him and us. "

"What reports?"

"That we are bad Frenchmen, lukewarm with regard to the king, deaf tothe law. "

"I return, then, to my text, " said La Fontaine. "Listen, Conrart, thisis the morality of Epicurus, whom, besides, I consider, if I must tellyou so, as a myth. Antiquity is mostly mythical. Jupiter, if we givea little attention to it, is life. Alcides is strength. The words arethere to bear me out; Zeus, that is, zen, to live. Alcides, thatis, alce, vigor. Well, Epicurus, that is mild watchfulness, that isprotection; now who watches better over the state, or who protectsindividuals better than M. Fouquet does?"

"You talk etymology and not morality; I say that we modern Epicureansare indifferent citizens. "

"Oh!" cried La Fontaine, "if we become bad citizens, it is not throughfollowing the maxims of our master. Listen to one of his principalaphorisms. "

"I--will. "

"Pray for good leaders. "

"Well?"

"Well! what does M. Fouquet say to us every day? 'When shall we begoverned?' Does he say so? Come, Conrart, be frank. "

"He says so, that is true. "

"Well, that is a doctrine of Epicurus. "

"Yes; but that is a little seditious, observe. "

"What! seditious to wish to be governed by good heads or leaders?"

"Certainly, when those who govern are bad. "

"Patience, I have a reply for all. "

"Even for what I have just said to you?"

"Listen! would you submit to those who govern ill? Oh! it is written:Cacos politeuousi. You grant me the text?"

"Pardieu! I think so. Do you know, you speak Greek as well as AEsop did, my dear La Fontaine. "

"Is there any wickedness in that, my dear Conrart?"

"God forbid I should say so. "

"Then let us return to M. Fouquet. What did he repeat to us all the day?Was it not this? 'What a cuistre is that Mazarin! what an ass! what aleech! We must, however, submit to the fellow. ' Now, Conrart, did he sayso, or did he not?"

"I confess that he said it, and even perhaps too often. "

"Like Epicurus, my friend, still like Epicurus; I repeat, we areEpicureans, and that is very amusing. "

"Yes, but I am afraid there will rise up, by the side of us, a sect likethat of Epictetus, you know him well; the philosopher of Hieropolis, he who called bread luxury, vegetables prodigality, and clear waterdrunkenness; he who, being beaten by his master, said to him, grumblinga little it is true, but without being angry, 'I will lay a wager youhave broken my leg!'--and who won his wager. "

"He was a goose, that fellow Epictetus. "

"Granted, but he might easily become the fashion by only changing hisname into that of Colbert. "

"Bah!" replied La Fontaine, "that is impossible. Never will you findColbert in Epictetus. "

"You are right, I shall find--Coluber there, at the most. "

"Ah! you are beaten, Conrart; you are reduced to a play upon words. M. Arnaud pretends that I have no logic; I have more than M. Nicolle. "

"Yes, " replied Conrart, "you have logic, but you are a Jansenist. "

This peroration was hailed with a boisterous shout of laughter; bydegrees the promenaders had been attracted by the exclamations of thetwo disputants around the arbor under which they were arguing. Thediscussion had been religiously listened to, and Fouquet himself, scarcely able to suppress his laughter, had given an example ofmoderation. But with the denouement of the scene he threw off allrestraint, and laughed aloud. Everybody laughed as he did, and the twophilosophers were saluted with unanimous felicitations. La Fontaine, however, was declared conqueror, on account of his profound eruditionand his irrefragable logic. Conrart obtained the compensation due toan unsuccessful combatant; he was praised for the loyalty of hisintentions, and the purity of his conscience. 

At the moment when this jollity was manifesting itself by the mostlively demonstrations, when the ladies were reproaching the twoadversaries with not having admitted women into the system of Epicureanhappiness, Gourville was seen hastening from the other end of thegarden, approaching Fouquet, and detaching him, by his presence alone, from the group. The superintendent preserved on his face the smile andcharacter of carelessness; but scarcely was he out of sight than hethrew off the mask. 

"Well!" said he, eagerly, "where is Pellisson! What is he doing?"

"Pellisson has returned from Paris. "

"Has he brought back the prisoners?"

"He has not even seen the concierge of the prison. "

"What! did he not tell him he came from me?"

"He told him so, but the concierge sent him this reply: 'If any one cameto me from M. Fouquet, he would have a letter from M. Fouquet. '"

"Oh!" cried the latter, "if a letter is all he wants----"

"It is useless, monsieur!" said Pellisson, showing himself at the cornerof the little wood, "useless! Go yourself, and speak in your own name. "

"You are right. I will go in, as if to work; let the horses remainharnessed, Pellisson. Entertain my friends, Gourville. "

"One last word of advice, monseigneur, " replied the latter. 

"Speak, Gourville. "

"Do not go to the concierge save at the last minute; it is brave, butit is not wise. Excuse me, Monsieur Pellisson, if I am not of the sameopinion as you; but take my advice, monseigneur, send again a message tothis concierge, --he is a worthy man, but do not carry it yourself. "

"I will think of it, " said Fouquet; "besides, we have all the nightbefore us. "

"Do not reckon too much on time; were the hours we have twice as many asthey are, they would not be too much, " replied Pellisson; "it is never afault to arrive too soon. "

"Adieu!" said the superintendent; "come with me, Pellisson. Gourville, Icommend my guests to your care. " And he set off. The Epicureans didnot perceive that the head of the school had left them; the violinscontinued playing all night long. 

CHAPTER 59. A Quarter of an Hour's Delay

Fouquet, on leaving his house for the second time that day, felt himselfless heavy and less disturbed than might have been expected. He turnedtowards Pellisson, who was meditating in the corner of the carriage somegood arguments against the violent proceedings of Colbert. 

"My dear Pellisson, " said Fouquet, "it is a great pity you are not awoman. "

"I think, on the contrary, it is very fortunate, " replied Pellisson, "for, monseigneur, I am excessively ugly. "

"Pellisson! Pellisson!" said the superintendent, laughing: "you repeattoo often you are 'ugly, ' not to leave people to believe that it givesyou much pain. "

"In fact it does, monseigneur, much pain; there is no man moreunfortunate than I: I was handsome, the smallpox rendered me hideous;I am deprived of a great means of attraction; now, I am your principalclerk or something of that sort; I take great interest in your affairs, and if, at this moment, I were a pretty woman, I could render you animportant service. "

"What?"

"I would go and find the concierge of the Palais. I would seduce him, for he is a gallant man, extravagantly partial to women; then I wouldget away our two prisoners. "

"I hope to be able to do so myself, although I am not a pretty woman, "replied Fouquet. 

"Granted, monseigneur; but you are compromising yourself very much. "

"Oh!" cried Fouquet, suddenly, with one of those secret transports whichthe generous blood of youth, or the remembrance of some sweet emotion, infuses into the heart. "Oh! I know a woman who will enact the personagewe stand in need of, with the lieutenant-governor of the conciergerie. "

"And, on my part, I know fifty, monseigneur; fifty trumpets, whichwill inform the universe of your generosity, of your devotion to yourfriends, and, consequently, will ruin you sooner or later in ruiningthemselves. "

"I do not speak of such women, Pellisson, I speak of a noble andbeautiful creature who joins to the intelligence and wit of her sex thevalor and coolness of ours; I speak of a woman, handsome enough to makethe walls of a prison bow down to salute her, discreet enough to let noone suspect by whom she has been sent. "

"A treasure!" said Pellisson, "you would make a famous present tomonsieur the governor of the conciergerie! Peste! monseigneur, hemight have his head cut off; but he would, before dying, have had suchhappiness as no man had enjoyed before him. "

"And I add, " said Fouquet, "that the concierge of the Palais would nothave his head cut off, for he would receive of me my horses toeffect his escape, and five hundred thousand livres wherewith to livecomfortably in England: I add, that this lady, my friend, would givehim nothing but the horses and the money. Let us go and seek her, Pellisson. "

The superintendent reached forth his hand towards the gold and silkencord placed in the interior of his carriage, but Pellisson stopped him. "Monseigneur, " said he, "you are going to lose as much time in seekingthis lady as Columbus took to discover the new world. Now, we have buttwo hours in which we can possibly succeed; the concierge once gone tobed, how shall we get at him without making a disturbance? When daylightdawns, how can we conceal our proceedings? Go, go yourself, monseigneur, and do not seek either woman or angel to-night. "

"But, my dear Pellisson, here we are before her door. "

"What! before the angel's door?"

"Why, yes!"

"This is the hotel of Madame de Belliere!"

"Hush!"

"Ah! Good Lord!" exclaimed Pellisson. 

"What have you to say against her?"

"Nothing, alas! and it is that which causes my despair. Nothing, absolutely nothing. Why can I not, on the contrary, say ill enough ofher to prevent your going to her?"

But Fouquet had already given orders to stop, and the carriage wasmotionless. "Prevent me!" cried Fouquet; "why, no power on earth shouldprevent my going to pay my compliments to Madame de Plessis-Belliere, besides, who knows that we shall not stand in need of her!"

"No, monseigneur no!"

"But I do not wish you to wait for me, Pellisson, " replied Fouquet, sincerely courteous. 

"The more reason I should, monseigneur; knowing that you are keepingme waiting, you will, perhaps, stay a shorter time. Take care! Yousee there is a carriage in the courtyard: she has some one with her. "Fouquet leant towards the steps of the carriage. "One word more, " criedPellisson; "do not go to this lady till you have been to the concierge, for Heaven's sake!"

"Eh! five minutes, Pellisson, " replied Fouquet, alighting at the stepsof the hotel, leaving Pellisson in the carriage, in a very ill-humor. Fouquet ran upstairs, told his name to the footman, which excited aneagerness and a respect that showed the habit the mistress of the househad of honoring that name in her family. "Monsieur le surintendant, "cried the marquise, advancing, very pale, to meet him; "what an honor!what an unexpected pleasure!" said she. Then, in a low voice, "Takecare!" added the marquise, "Marguerite Vanel is here!"

"Madame, " replied Fouquet, rather agitated, "I came on business. Onesingle word, and quickly, if you please!" And he entered the salon. Madame Vanel had risen, paler, more livid, than Envy herself. Fouquetin vain addressed her, with the most agreeable, most pacific salutation;she only replied by a terrible glance darted at the marquise andFouquet. This keen glance of a jealous woman is a stiletto which piercesevery cuirass; Marguerite Vanel plunged it straight into the hearts ofthe two confidants. She made a courtesy to her friend, a more profoundone to Fouquet, and took leave, under pretense of having a number ofvisits to make, without the marquise trying to prevent her, or Fouquet, a prey to anxiety, thinking further about her. She was scarcely outof the room, and Fouquet left alone with the marquise, before he threwhimself on his knees, without saying a word. "I expected you, " said themarquise, with a tender sigh. 

"Oh! no, " cried he, "or you would have sent away that woman. "

"She has been here little more than half an hour, and I had noexpectation she would come this evening. "

"You love me just a little, then, marquise?"

"That is not the question now; it is of your danger; how are youraffairs going on?"

"I am going this evening to get my friends out of the prisons of thePalais. "

"How will you do that?"

"By buying and bribing the governor. "

"He is a friend of mine; can I assist you, without injuring you?"

"Oh! marquise, it would be a signal service; but how can you be employedwithout your being compromised? Now, never shall my life, my power, oreven my liberty, be purchased at the expense of a single tear from youreyes, or of one frown of pain upon your brow. "

"Monseigneur, no more such words, they bewilder me; I have been culpablein trying to serve you, without calculating the extent of what I wasdoing. I love you in reality, as a tender friend; and as a friend, I amgrateful for your delicate attentions--but, alas!--alas! you will neverfind a mistress in me. "

"Marquise!" cried Fouquet, in a tone of despair; "why not?"

"Because you are too much beloved, " said the young woman, in a lowvoice; "because you are too much beloved by too many people--becausethe splendor of glory and fortune wound my eyes, whilst the darknessof sorrow attracts them; because, in short, I, who have repulsed you inyour proud magnificence; I who scarcely looked at you in your splendor, I came, like a mad woman, to throw myself, as it were, into your arms, when I saw a misfortune hovering over your head. You understand me now, monseigneur? Become happy again, that I may remain chaste in heart andin thought; your misfortune entails my ruin. "

"Oh! madame, " said Fouquet, with an emotion he had never before felt;"were I to fall to the lowest degree of human misery, and hear from yourmouth that word which you now refuse me, that day, madame, you willbe mistaken in your noble egotism; that day you will fancy you areconsoling the most unfortunate of men, and you will have said, I loveyou, to the most illustrious, the most delighted, the most triumphant ofthe happy beings of this world. "

He was still at her feet, kissing her hand, when Pellisson enteredprecipitately, crying, in very ill-humor, "Monseigneur! madame! forHeaven's sake! excuse me. Monseigneur, you have been here half an hour. Oh! do not both look at me so reproachfully. Madame, pray who is thatlady who left your house soon after monseigneur came in?"

"Madame Vanel, " said Fouquet. 

"Ha!" cried Pellisson, "I was sure of that. "

"Well! what then?"

"Why, she got into her carriage, looking deadly pale. "

"What consequence is that to me?"

"Yes, but what she said to her coachman is of consequence to you. "

"Kind heaven!" cried the marquise, "what was that?"

"To M. Colbert's!" said Pellisson, in a hoarse voice. 

"Bon Dieu!--begone, begone, monseigneur!" replied the marquise, pushingFouquet out of the salon, whilst Pellisson dragged him by the hand. 

"Am I, then, indeed, " said the superintendent, "become a child, to befrightened by a shadow?"

"You are a giant, " said the marquise, "whom a viper is trying to bite inthe heel. "

Pellisson continued to drag Fouquet to the carriage. "To the Palais atfull speed!" cried Pellisson to the coachman. The horses set off likelightning; no obstacle relaxed their pace for an instant. Only, at thearcade Saint-Jean, as they were coming out upon the Place de Greve, along file of horsemen, barring the narrow passage, stopped the carriageof the superintendent. There was no means of forcing this barrier; itwas necessary to wait till the mounted archers of the watch, for it wasthey who stopped the way, had passed with the heavy carriage theywere escorting, and which ascended rapidly towards the Place Baudoyer. Fouquet and Pellisson took no further account of this circumstancebeyond deploring the minute's delay they had thus to submit to. Theyentered the habitation of the concierge du Palais five minutes after. That officer was still walking about in the front court. At the nameof Fouquet, whispered in his ear by Pellisson, the governor eagerlyapproached the carriage, and, hat in his hand, was profuse in hisattentions. "What an honor for me, monseigneur, " said he. 

"One word, monsieur le gouverneur, will you take the trouble to get intomy carriage?" The officer placed himself opposite Fouquet in the coach. 

"Monsieur, " said Fouquet, "I have a service to ask of you. "

"Speak, monseigneur. "

"A service that will be compromising for you, monsieur, but which willassure to you forever my protection and my friendship. "

"Were it to cast myself into the fire for you, monseigneur, I would doit. "

"That is well, " said Fouquet; "what I require is much more simple. "

"That being so, monseigneur, what is it?"

"To conduct me to the chamber of Messieurs Lyodot and D'Eymeris. "

"Will monseigneur have the kindness to say for what purpose?"

"I will tell you in their presence, monsieur; at the same time that Iwill give you ample means of palliating this escape. "

"Escape! Why, then, monseigneur does not know?"

"What?"

"That Messieurs Lyodot and D'Eymeris are no longer here. "

"Since when?" cried Fouquet, in great agitation. 

"About a quarter of an hour. "

"Whither have they gone, then?"

"To Vincennes--to the donjon. "

"Who took them from here?"

"An order from the king. "

"Oh! woe! woe!" exclaimed Fouquet, striking his forehead. "Woe!" andwithout saying a single word more to the governor, he threw himself backin his carriage, despair in his heart, and death on his countenance. 

"Well!" said Pellisson, with great anxiety. 

"Our friends are lost. Colbert is conveying them to the donjon. Theycrossed our very path under the arcade Saint-Jean. "

Pellisson, struck as by a thunderbolt, made no reply. With a singlereproach he would have killed his master. "Where is monseigneur going?"said the footman. 

"Hone--to Paris. You, Pellisson, return to Saint-Mande, and bring theAbbe Fouquet to me within an hour. Begone!"

CHAPTER 60. Plan of Battle

The night was already far advanced when the Abbe Fouquet joined hisbrother. Gourville had accompanied him. These three men, pale with dreadof future events, resembled less three powers of the day than threeconspirators, united by one single thought of violence. Fouquet walkedfor a long time, with his eyes fixed upon the floor, striking his handsone against the other. At length, taking courage, in the midst of a deepsigh: "Abbe, " said he, "you were speaking to me only to-day of certainpeople you maintain. "

"Yes, monsieur, " replied the abbe. 

"Tell me precisely who are these people. " The abbe hesitated. 

"Come! no fear, I am not threatening; no romancing, for I am notjoking. "

"Since you demand the truth, monseigneur, here it is:--I have a hundredand twenty friends or companions of pleasure, who are sworn to me as thethief is to the gallows. "

"And you think you can depend upon them?"

"Entirely. "

"And you will not compromise yourself?"

"I will not even make my appearance. "

"And are they men of resolution?"

"They would burn Paris, if I promised them they should not be burnt inturn. "

"The thing I ask of you, abbe, " said Fouquet, wiping the sweat whichfell from his brow, "is to throw your hundred and twenty men uponthe people I will point out to you, at a certain moment given--is itpossible?"

"It will not be the first time such a thing has happened to them, monseigneur. "

"That is well: but would these bandits attack an armed force?"

"They are used to that. "

"Then get your hundred and twenty men together, abbe. "

"Directly. But where?"

"On the road to Vincennes, to-morrow, at two o'clock precisely. "

"To carry off Lyodot and D'Eymeris? There will be blows to be got!"

"A number, no doubt; are you afraid?"

"Not for myself, but for you. "

"Your men will know, then, what they have to do?"

"They are too intelligent not to guess it. Now, a minister who gets up ariot against his king--exposes himself----"

"Of what importance is that to you, I pray? Besides, if I fall, you fallwith me. "

"It would then be more prudent, monsieur, not to stir in the affair, andleave the king to take this little satisfaction. "

"Think well of this, abbe, Lyodot and D'Eymeris at Vincennes are aprelude of ruin for my house. I repeat it--I arrested, you will beimprisoned--I imprisoned, you will be exiled. "

"Monsieur, I am at your orders; have you any to give me?"

"What I told you--I wish that, to-morrow, the two financiers of whomthey mean to make victims, whilst there remain so many criminalsunpunished, should be snatched from the fury of my enemies. Take yourmeasures accordingly. Is it possible?"

"It is possible. "

"Describe your plan. "

"It is of rich simplicity. The ordinary guard at executions consists oftwelve archers. "

"There will be a hundred to-morrow. "

"I reckon so. I even say more--there will be two hundred. "

"Then your hundred and twenty men will not be enough. "

"Pardon me. In every crowd composed of a hundred thousand spectators, there are ten thousand bandits or cut-purses--only they dare not takethe initiative. "

"Well?"

"There will then be, to-morrow, on the Place de Greve, which I choose asmy battle-field, ten thousand auxiliaries to my hundred and twenty men. The attack commenced by the latter, the others will finish it. "

"That all appears feasible. But what will be done with regard to theprisoners upon the Place de Greve?"

"This: they must be thrust into some house--that will make a siegenecessary to get them out again. And stop! here is another idea, moresublime still: certain houses have two issues--one upon the Place, and the other into the Rue de la Mortellerie, or la Vennerie, orla Texeranderie. The prisoners entering by one door will go out atanother. "

"Yes, but fix upon something positive. "

"I am seeking to do so. "

"And I, " cried Fouquet, "I have found it. Listen to what has occurred tome at this moment. "

"I am listening. "

Fouquet made a sign to Gourville, who appeared to understand. "One ofmy friends lends me sometimes the keys of a house which he rents, RueBaudoyer, the spacious gardens of which extend behind a certain house onthe Place de Greve. "

"That is the place for us, " said the abbe. "What house?"

"A cabaret, pretty well frequented, whose sign represents the image ofNotre Dame. "

"I know it, " said the abbe. 

"This cabaret has windows opening upon the Place, a place of exit intothe court, which must abut upon the gardens of my friend by a door ofcommunication. "

"Good!" said the abbe. 

"Enter by the cabaret, take the prisoners in; defend the door while youenable them to fly by the garden and the Place Baudoyer. "

"That is all plain. Monsieur, you would make an excellent general, likemonsieur le prince. "

"Have you understood me?"

"Perfectly well. "

"How much will it amount to, to make your bandits all drunk with wine, and to satisfy them with gold?"

"Oh, monsieur, what an expression! Oh! monsieur, if they heard you: someof them are very susceptible. "

"I mean to say they must be brought no longer to know the heavens fromthe earth; for I shall to-morrow contend with the king; and when I fightI mean to conquer--please to understand. "

"It shall be done, monsieur. Give me your other ideas. "

"That is your business. "

"Then give me your purse. "

"Gourville, count a hundred thousand livres for the abbe. "

"Good! and spare nothing, did you not say?"

"Nothing. "

"That is well. "

"Monseigneur, " objected Gourville, "if this should be known, we shouldlose our heads. "

"Eh! Gourville, " replied Fouquet, purple with anger, "you excite mypity. Speak for yourself, if you please. My head does not shake in thatmanner upon my shoulders. Now, abbe, is everything arranged?"

"Everything. "

"At two o'clock to-morrow. "

"At twelve, because it will be necessary to prepare our auxiliaries in asecret manner. "

"That is true; do not spare the wine of the cabaretier. "

"I will spare neither his wine nor his house, " replied the abbe, witha sneering laugh. "I have my plan, I tell you; leave me to set it inoperation, and you shall see. "

"Where shall you be yourself?"

"Everywhere; nowhere. "

"And how shall I receive information?"

"By a courier whose horse shall be kept in the very garden of yourfriend. A propos, the name of your friend?"

Fouquet looked again at Gourville. The latter came to the succor of hismaster, saying, "Accompanying monsieur l'abbe for several reasons, onlythe house is easily to be known, the 'Image-de-Notre-Dame' in the front, a garden, the only one in the quarter, behind. "

"Good, good! I will go and give notice to my soldiers. "

"Accompany him, Gourville, " said Fouquet, "and count him down the money. One moment, abbe--one moment, Gourville--what name will be given to thiscarrying off?"

"A very natural one, monsieur--the Riot. "

"The riot on account of what? For, if ever the people of Parisare disposed to pay their court to the king, it is when he hangsfinanciers. "

"I will manage that, " said the abbe. 

"Yes; but you may manage it badly, and people will guess. "

"Not at all, --not at all. I have another idea. "

"What is that?"

"My men shall cry out, 'Colbert, vive Colbert!' and shall throwthemselves upon the prisoners as if they would tear them in pieces, andshall force them from the gibbets, as too mild a punishment. "

"Ah! that is an idea, " said Gourville. "Peste! monsieur l'abbe, what animagination you have!"

"Monsieur, we are worthy of our family, " replied the abbe, proudly. 

"Strange fellow, " murmured Fouquet. Then he added, "That is ingenious. Carry it out, but shed no blood. "

Gourville and the abbe set off together, with their heads full of themeditated riot. The superintendent laid himself down upon some cushions, half valiant with respect to the sinister projects of the morrow, halfdreaming of love. 

CHAPTER 61. The Cabaret of the Image-de-Notre-Dame

At two o'clock the next day fifty thousand spectators had taken theirposition upon the Place, around the two gibbets which had been elevatedbetween the Quai de la Greve and the Quai Pelletier; one close to theother, with their backs to the embankment of the river. In the morningalso, all the sworn criers of the good city of Paris had traversedthe quarters of the city, particularly the halles and the faubourgs, announcing with their hoarse and indefatigable voices, the great justicedone by the king upon two speculators, two thieves, devourers of thepeople. And these people, whose interests were so warmly looked after, in order not to fail in respect for their king quitted shops, stalls, and ateliers to go and evince a little gratitude to Louis XIV. , absolutely like invited guests, who feared to commit an impoliteness innot repairing to the house of him who had invited them. According to thetenor of the sentence, which the criers read aloud and incorrectly, twofarmers of the revenues, monopolists of money, dilapidators of the royalprovisions, extortioners, and forgers, were about to undergo capitalpunishment on the Place de Greve, with their names blazoned over theirheads, according to their sentence. As to those names, the sentence madeno mention of them. The curiosity of the Parisians was at its height, and, as we have said, an immense crowd waited with feverish impatiencethe hour fixed for the execution. The news had already spread that theprisoners, transferred to the Chateau of Vincennes, would be conductedfrom that prison to the Place de Greve. Consequently, the faubourg andthe Rue Saint Antoine were crowded, for the population of Paris in thosedays of great executions was divided into two categories: those whocame to see the condemned pass--these were of timid and mild hearts, but philosophically curious--and those who wished to see the condemneddie--these had hearts that hungered for sensation. On this day M. D'Artagnan received his last instructions from the king, and made hisadieus to his friends, the number of whom was, at the moment, reducedto Planchet, traced the plan of his day, as every busy man whose momentsare counted ought to do because he appreciates their importance. 

"My departure is to be, " said he, "at break of day, three o'clock inthe morning; I have then fifteen hours before me. Take from them thesix hours of sleep which are indispensable for me--six; one hour forrepasts--seven; one hour for a farewell visit to Athos--eight; two hoursfor chance circumstances---total, ten. There are then five hours left. One hour to get my money, --that is, to have payment refused by M. Fouquet; another hour to go and receive my money of M. Colbert, togetherwith his questions and grimaces; one hour to look over my clothes andarms, and get my boots cleaned. I have still two hours left. Mordioux!how rich I am!" And so saying, D'Artagnan felt a strange joy, a joy ofyouth, a perfume of those great and happy years of former times mountinto his brain and intoxicate him. "During these two hours I willgo, " said the musketeer, "and take my quarter's rent of theImage-de-Notre-Dame. That will be pleasant. Three hundred andseventy-five livres. Mordioux! but that is astonishing! If the poor manwho has but one livre in his pocket, found a livre and twelve deniers, that would be justice, that would be excellent; but never does such agodsend fall to the lot of the poor man. The rich man, on the contrary, makes himself revenues with his money, which he does not even touch. Here are three hundred and seventy-five livres which fall to me fromheaven. I will go then to the Image-de-Notre-Dame, and drink a glass ofSpanish wine with my tenant, which he cannot fail to offer me. But ordermust be observed, Monsieur d'Artagnan, order must be observed! Let usorganize our time, then, and distribute the employment of it! Art. 1st, Athos; Art. 2d, the Image-de-Notre-Dame; Art. 3d, M. Fouquet, Art. 4th, M. Colbert; Art. 5th, supper; Art. 6th, clothes, boots, horse, portmanteau; Art. 7th and last, sleep. "

In consequence of this arrangement, D'Artagnan went straight to theComte de la Fere, to whom modestly and ingenuously he related a part ofhis fortunate adventures. Athos had not been without uneasiness on thesubject of D'Artagnan's visit to the king; but few words sufficed foran explanation of that. Athos divined that Louis had charged D'Artagnanwith some important mission, and did not even make an effort to draw thesecret from him. He only recommended him to take care of himself, andoffered discreetly to accompany him if that were desirable. 

"But, my dear friend, " said D'Artagnan, "I am going nowhere. "

"What! you come and bid me adieu, and are going nowhere?"

"Oh! yes, yes, " replied D'Artagnan, coloring a little, "I am going tomake an acquisition. "

"That is quite another thing. Then I change my formula. Instead of 'Donot get yourself killed, ' I will say, --'Do not get yourself robbed. '"

"My friend, I will inform you if I set eyes on any property that pleasesme, and shall expect you will favor me with your opinion. "

"Yes, yes, " said Athos, too delicate to permit himself even theconsolation of a smile. Raoul imitated the paternal reserve. ButD'Artagnan thought it would appear too mysterious to leave his friendsunder a pretense, without even telling them the route he was about totake. 

"I have chosen Le Mans, " said he to Athos. "Is it a good country?"

"Excellent, my friend, " replied the count, without making him observethat Le Mans was in the same direction as La Touraine, and thatby waiting two days, at most, he might travel with a friend. ButD'Artagnan, more embarrassed than the count, dug, at every explanation, deeper into the mud, into which he sank by degrees. "I shall set outto-morrow at daybreak, " said he at last. "Till that time, will you comewith me, Raoul?"

"Yes, monsieur le chevalier, " said the young man, "if monsieur le comtedoes not want me. "

"No, Raoul I am to have an audience to-day of Monsieur, the king'sbrother; that is all I have to do. "

Raoul asked Grimaud for his sword, which the old man brought himimmediately. "Now then, " added D'Artagnan, opening his arms to Athos, "adieu, my dear friend!" Athos held him in a long embrace, and themusketeer, who knew his discretion so well, murmured in his ear--"Anaffair of state, " to which Athos only replied by a pressure of the hand, still more significant. They then separated. Raoul took the arm of hisold friend, who led him along the Rue-Saint-Honore. "I am conductingyou to the abode of the god Plutus, " said D'Artagnan to the young man;"prepare yourself. The whole day you will witness the piling up ofcrowns. Heavens! how I am changed!"

"Oh! what numbers of people there are in the street!" said Raoul. 

"Is there a procession to-day?" asked D'Artagnan of a passer-by. 

"Monsieur, it is a hanging, " replied the man. 

"What! a hanging at the Greve?" said D'Artagnan. 

"Yes, monsieur. "

"The devil take the rogue who gets himself hung the day I want to go andtake my rent!" cried D'Artagnan. "Raoul, did you ever see anybody hung?"

"Never, monsieur--thank God!"

"Oh! how young that sounds! If you were on guard in the trenches, as Iwas, and a spy! But, pardon me, Raoul, I am doting--you are quite right, it is a hideous sight to see a person hung! At what hour do they hangthem, monsieur, if you please?"

"Monsieur, " replied the stranger respectfully, delighted at joiningconversation with two men of the sword, "it will take place about threeo'clock. "

"Aha! it is now only half-past one; let us step out, we shall be therein time to touch my three hundred and seventy-five livres, and get awaybefore the arrival of the malefactor. "

"Malefactors, monsieur, " continued the bourgeois; "there are two ofthem. "

"Monsieur, I return you many thanks, " said D'Artagnan, who, as he grewolder, had become polite to a degree. Drawing Raoul along, he directedhis course rapidly in the direction of La Greve. Without that greatexperience musketeers have of a crowd, to which were joined anirresistible strength of wrist, and an uncommon suppleness of shoulders, our two travelers would not have arrived at their place of destination. They followed the line of the Quai, which they had gained on quittingthe Rue Saint-Honore, where they left Athos. D'Artagnan went first; hiselbow, his wrist, his shoulder formed three wedges which he knew how toinsinuate with skill into the groups, to make them split and separatelike firewood. He made use sometimes of the hilt of his sword as anadditional help: introducing it between ribs that were too rebellious, making it take the part of a lever or crowbar, to separate husband fromwife, uncle from nephew, and brother from brother. And all this was doneso naturally, and with such gracious smiles, that people must have hadribs of bronze not to cry thank you when the wrist made its play, orhearts of diamond not to be enchanted when such a bland smile enlivenedthe lips of the musketeer. Raoul, following his friend, cajoled thewomen who admired his beauty, pushed back the men who felt the rigidityof his muscles, and both opened, thanks to these maneuvers, the compactand muddy tide of the populace. They arrived in sight of the twogibbets, from which Raoul turned away his eyes in disgust. As forD'Artagnan, he did not even see them; his house with its gabled roof, its windows crowded with the curious, attracted and even absorbed allthe attention he was capable of. He distinguished in the Place andaround the houses a good number of musketeers on leave, who, some withwomen, others with friends, awaited the crowning ceremony. What rejoicedhim above all was to see that his tenant, the cabaretier, was so busy hehardly knew which way to turn. Three lads could not supply the drinkers. They filled the shop, the chambers, and the court, even. D'Artagnancalled Raoul's attention to this concourse, adding: "The fellow willhave no excuse for not paying his rent. Look at those drinkers, Raoul, one would say they were jolly companions. Mordioux! why, there is noroom anywhere!" D'Artagnan, however, contrived to catch hold of themaster by the corner of his apron, and to make himself known to him. 

"Ah, monsieur le chevalier, " said the cabaretier, half distracted, "oneminute if you please. I have here a hundred mad devils turning my cellarupside down. "

"The cellar, if you like, but not the money-box. "

"Oh, monsieur, your thirty-seven and a half pistoles are all countedout ready for you, upstairs in my chamber, but there are in that chamberthirty customers, who are sucking the staves of a little barrelof Oporto which I tapped for them this very morning. Give me aminute, --only a minute. "

"So be it; so be it. "

"I will go, " said Raoul, in a low voice, to D'Artagnan; "this hilarityis vile!"

"Monsieur, " replied D'Artagnan, sternly, "you will please to remainwhere you are. The soldier ought to familiarize himself with all kindsof spectacles. There are in the eye, when it is young, fibers which wemust learn how to harden; and we are not truly generous and good savefrom the moment when the eye has become hardened, and the heart remainstender. Besides, my little Raoul, would you leave me alone here? Thatwould be very wrong of you. Look, there is yonder in the lower court atree, and under the shade of that tree we shall breathe more freely thanin this hot atmosphere of spilt wine. "

From the spot on which they had placed themselves the two new guests ofthe Image-de-Notre-Dame heard the ever-increasing hubbub of the tide ofpeople, and lost neither a cry nor a gesture of the drinkers, at tablesin the cabaret, or disseminated in the chambers. If D'Artagnan hadwished to place himself as a vidette for an expedition, he could nothave succeeded better. The tree under which he and Raoul were seatedcovered them with its already thick foliage; it was a low, thickchestnut-tree, with inclined branches, that cast their shade over atable so dilapidated the drinkers had abandoned it. We said that fromthis post D'Artagnan saw everything. He observed the goings and comingsof the waiters; the arrival of fresh drinkers; the welcome, sometimesfriendly, sometimes hostile, given to the newcomers by others alreadyinstalled. He observed all this to amuse himself, for the thirty-sevenand a half pistoles were a long time coming. Raoul recalled hisattention to it. "Monsieur, " said he, "you do not hurry your tenant, and the condemned will soon be here. There will then be such a press weshall not be able to get out. "

"You are right, " said the musketeer; "Hola! oh! somebody there!Mordioux!" But it was in vain he cried and knocked upon the wreck of theold table, which fell to pieces beneath his fist; nobody came. 

D'Artagnan was preparing to go and seek the cabaretier himself, to forcehim to a definite explanation, when the door of the court in which hewas with Raoul, a door which communicated with the garden situated atthe back, opened, and a man dressed as a cavalier, with his sword in thesheath, but not at his belt, crossed the court without closing thedoor; and having cast an oblique glance at D'Artagnan and his companion, directed his course towards the cabaret itself, looking about in alldirections with his eyes capable of piercing walls of consciences. "Humph!" said D'Artagnan, "my tenants are communicating. That, no doubt, now, is some amateur in hanging matters. " At the same moment the criesand disturbance in the upper chambers ceased. Silence, under suchcircumstances, surprises more than a twofold increase of noise. D'Artagnan wished to see what was the cause of this sudden silence. Hethen perceived that this man, dressed as a cavalier, had just enteredthe principal chamber, and was haranguing the tipplers, who all listenedto him with the greatest attention. D'Artagnan would perhaps have heardhis speech but for the dominant noise of the popular clamors, which madea formidable accompaniment to the harangue of the orator. But it wassoon finished, and all the people the cabaret contained came out, oneafter the other, in little groups, so that there only remained sixin the chamber; one of these six, the man with the sword, took thecabaretier aside, engaging him in discourse more or less serious, whilst the others lit a great fire in the chimney-place--a circumstancerendered strange by the fine weather and the heat. 

"It is very singular, " said D'Artagnan to Raoul, "but I think I knowthose faces yonder. "

"Don't you think you can smell the smoke here?" said Raoul

"I rather think I can smell a conspiracy, " replied D'Artagnan. 

He had not finished speaking, when four of these men came down into thecourt, and without the appearance of any bad design, mounted guard atthe door of communication, casting, at intervals, glances at D'Artagnan, which signified many things. 

"Mordioux!" said D'Artagnan, in a low voice, "there is something goingon. Are you curious, Raoul?"

"According to the subject, chevalier. "

"Well, I am as curious as an old woman. Come a little more in front; weshall get a better view of the place. I would lay a wager that view willbe something curious. "

"But you know, monsieur le chevalier, that I am not willing to become apassive and indifferent spectator of the death of the two poor devils. "

"And I, then--do you think I am a savage? We will go in again, when itis time to do so. Come along!" And they made their way towards the frontof the house, and placed themselves near the window which, still morestrangely than the rest, remained unoccupied. The two last drinkers, instead of looking out at this window, kept up the fire. On seeingD'Artagnan and his friend enter:--"Ah! ah! a reinforcement, " murmuredthey. 

D'Artagnan jogged Raoul's elbow. "Yes, my braves, a reinforcement, " saidhe; "cordieu! there is a famous fire. Whom are you going to cook?"

The two men uttered a shout of jovial laughter, and, instead ofanswering, threw on more wood. D'Artagnan could not take his eyes offthem. 

"I suppose, " said one of the fire-makers, "they sent you to tell us thetime--did not they?"

"Without doubt they have, " said D'Artagnan, anxious to know what wasgoing on; "why should I be here else, if it were not for that?"

"Then place yourself at the window, if you please, and observe. "D'Artagnan smiled in his mustache, made a sign to Raoul, and placedhimself at the window. 

CHAPTER 62. Vive Colbert!

The spectacle which the Greve now presented was a frightful one. Theheads, leveled by the perspective, extended afar, thick and agitated asthe ears of corn in a vast plain. From time to time a fresh report, or adistant rumor, made the heads oscillate and thousands of eyes flash. Nowand then there were great movements. All those ears of corn bent, andbecame waves more agitated than those of the ocean, which rolled fromthe extremities to the center, and beat, like the tides, against thehedge of archers who surrounded the gibbets. Then the handles ofthe halberds were let fall upon the heads and shoulders of the rashinvaders; at times, also, it was the steel as well as the wood, and, in that case, a large empty circle was formed around the guard; a spaceconquered upon the extremities, which underwent, in their turn theoppression of the sudden movement, which drove them against the parapetsof the Seine. From the window, that commanded a view of the whole Place, D'Artagnan saw, with interior satisfaction, that such of the musketeersand guards as found themselves involved in the crowd, were able, withblows of their fists and the hilts of their swords, to keep room. Heeven remarked that they had succeeded, by that esprit de corps whichdoubles the strength of the soldier, in getting together in one group tothe amount of about fifty men; and that, with the exception of a dozenstragglers whom he still saw rolling here and there, the nucleus wascomplete, and within reach of his voice. But it was not the musketeersand guards only that drew the attention of D'Artagnan. Around thegibbets, and particularly at the entrances to the arcade of Saint Jean, moved a noisy mass, a busy mass; daring faces, resolute demeanors wereto be seen here and there, mingled with silly faces and indifferentdemeanors; signals were exchanged, hands given and taken. D'Artagnanremarked among the groups, and those groups the most animated, the faceof the cavalier whom he had seen enter by the door of communication fromhis garden, and who had gone upstairs to harangue the drinkers. That manwas organizing troops and giving orders. 

"Mordioux!" said D'Artagnan to himself, "I was not deceived; I know thatman, --it is Menneville. What the devil is he doing here?"

A distant murmur, which became more distinct by degrees, stoppedthis reflection, and drew his attention another way. This murmur wasoccasioned by the arrival of the culprits; a strong picket of archerspreceded them, and appeared at the angle of the arcade. The entire crowdnow joined as if in one cry; all the cries united formed one immensehowl. D'Artagnan saw Raoul was becoming pale, and he slapped him roughlyon the shoulder. The fire-keepers turned round on hearing the greatcry, and asked what was going on. "The condemned are arrived, " saidD'Artagnan. "That's well, " replied they, again replenishing the fire. D'Artagnan looked at them with much uneasiness; it was evident thatthese men who were making such a fire for no apparent purpose had somestrange intentions. The condemned appeared upon the Place. They werewalking, the executioner before them, whilst fifty archers formed ahedge on their right and their left. Both were dressed in black; theyappeared pale, but firm. They looked impatiently over the people'sheads, standing on tip-toe at every step. D'Artagnan remarked this. "Mordioux!" cried he, "they are in a great hurry to get a sight of thegibbet!" Raoul drew back, without, however, having the power to leavethe window. Terror even has its attractions. 

"To the death! to the death!" cried fifty thousand voices. 

"Yes; to the death!" howled a hundred frantic others, as if the greatmass had given them the reply. 

"To the halter! to the halter!" cried the great whole; "Vive le roi!"

"Well, " said D'Artagnan, "this is droll; I should have thought it was M. Colbert who had caused them to be hung. "

There was, at this moment, a great rolling movement in the crowd, whichstopped for a moment the march of the condemned. The people of a boldand resolute mien, whom D'Artagnan had observed, by dint of pressing, pushing, and lifting themselves up, had succeeded in almost touching thehedge of archers. The cortege resumed its march. All at once, to criesof "Vive Colbert!" those men, of whom D'Artagnan never lost sight, fellupon the escort, which in vain endeavored to stand against them. Behindthese men was the crowd. Then commenced, amidst a frightful tumult, asfrightful a confusion. This time there was something more than cries ofexpectation or cries of joy, there were cries of pain. Halberds struckmen down, swords ran them through, muskets were discharged at them. The confusion became then so great that D'Artagnan could no longerdistinguish anything. Then, from this chaos, suddenly surged somethinglike a visible intention, like a will pronounced. The condemned had beentorn from the hands of the guards, and were being dragged towards thehouse of L'Image-de-Notre-Dame. Those who dragged them shouted, "ViveColbert!" The people hesitated, not knowing which they ought to fallupon, the archers or the aggressors. What stopped the people was, thatthose who cried "Vive Colbert!" began to cry, at the same time, "Nohalter! no halter! to the fire! to the fire! burn the thieves! burn theextortioners!" This cry, shouted with an ensemble, obtained enthusiasticsuccess. The populace had come to witness an execution, and here was anopportunity offered them of performing one themselves. It was thisthat must be most agreeable to the populace: therefore, they ranged, themselves immediately on the party of the aggressors against thearchers, crying with the minority, which had become, thanks to them, the most compact majority: "Yes, yes: to the fire with the thieves! ViveColbert!"

"Mordioux!" exclaimed D'Artagnan, "this begins to look serious. "

One of the men who remained near the chimney approached the window, afirebrand in his hand. "Ah, ah!" said he, "it gets warm. " Then, turningto his companion: "There is the signal, " added he; and he immediatelyapplied the burning brand to the wainscoting. Now, this cabaret of theImage-de-Notre-Dame was not a very newly-built house, and therefore didnot require much entreating to take fire. In a second the boards beganto crackle, and the flames arose sparkling to the ceiling. A howlingfrom without replied to the shouts of the incendiaries. D'Artagnan, whohad not seen what passed, from being engaged at the window, felt, at thesame time, the smoke which choked him and the fire that scorched him. "Hola!" cried he, turning round, "is the fire here? Are you drunk ormad, my masters?"

The two men looked at each other with an air of astonishment. "In what?"asked they of D'Artagnan; "was it not a thing agreed upon?"

"A thing agreed upon that you should burn my house!" vociferatedD'Artagnan, snatching the brand from the hand of the incendiary, andstriking him with it across the face. The second wanted to assist hiscomrade, but Raoul, seizing him by the middle, threw him out of thewindow, whilst D'Artagnan pushed his man down the stairs. Raoul, firstdisengaged, tore the burning wainscoting down, and threw it flaming intothe chamber. At a glance D'Artagnan saw there was nothing to be fearedfrom the fire, and sprang to the window. The disorder was at its height. The air was filled with simultaneous cries of "To the fire!" "To thedeath!" "To the halter!" "To the stake!" "Vive Colbert!" "Vive le roi!"The group which had forced the culprits from the hands of the archershad drawn close to the house, which appeared to be the goal towardswhich they dragged them. Menneville was at the head of this group, shouting louder than all the others, "To the fire! to the fire! ViveColbert!" D'Artagnan began to comprehend what was meant. They wanted toburn the condemned, and his house was to serve as a funeral pile. 

"Halt, there!" cried he, sword in hand, and one foot upon the window. "Menneville, what do you want to do?"

"Monsieur d'Artagnan, " cried the latter; "give way, give way!"

"To the fire! to the fire with the thieves! Vive Colbert!"

These cries exasperated D'Artagnan. "Mordioux!" said he. "What! burn thepoor devils who are only condemned to be hung? that is infamous!"

Before the door, however, the mass of anxious spectators, rolledback against the walls, had become more thick, and closed up the way. Menneville and his men, who were dragging along the culprits, werewithin ten paces of the door. 

Menneville made a last effort. "Passage! passage!" cried he, pistol inhand. 

"Burn them! burn them!" repeated the crowd. "The Image-de-Notre-Dameis on fire! Burn the thieves! burn the monopolists in theImage-de-Notre-Dame!"

There now remained no doubt, it was plainly D'Artagnan's house that wastheir object. D'Artagnan remembered the old cry, always so effectivefrom his mouth:

"A moi! mousquetaires!" shouted he, with the voice of a giant, with oneof those voices which dominate over cannon, the sea, the tempest. "Amoi! mousquetaires!" And suspending himself by the arm from the balcony, he allowed himself to drop amidst the crowd, which began to draw backfrom a house that rained men. Raoul was on the ground as soon ashe, both sword in hand. All the musketeers on the Place heardthat challenging cry--all turned round at that cry, and recognizedD'Artagnan. "To the captain, to the captain!" cried they, in their turn. And the crowd opened before them as though before the prow of a vessel. At that moment D'Artagnan and Menneville found themselves face to face. "Passage, passage!" cried Menneville, seeing that he was within an arm'slength of the door. 

"No one passes here, " said D'Artagnan. 

"Take that, then!" said Menneville, firing his pistol, almost withinarm's length. But before the cock fell, D'Artagnan had struck upMenneville's arm with the hilt of his sword and passed the blade throughhis body. 

"I told you plainly to keep yourself quiet, " said D'Artagnan toMenneville, who rolled at his feet. 

"Passage! passage!" cried the companions of Menneville, at firstterrified, but soon recovering, when they found they had only to do withtwo men. But those two men were hundred-armed giants, the swords flewabout in their hands like the burning glaive of the archangel. Theypierce with its point, strike with the flat, cut with the edge, everystroke brings down a man. "For the king!" cried D'Artagnan, to every manhe struck at, that is to say, to every man that fell. This crybecame the charging word for the musketeers, who guided by it, joinedD'Artagnan. During this time the archers, recovering from the panic theyhad undergone, charge the aggressors in the rear, and regular as millstrokes, overturn or knock down all that oppose them. The crowd, whichsees swords gleaming, and drops of blood flying in the air--the crowdfalls back and crushes itself. At length cries for mercy and of despairresound; that is, the farewell of the vanquished. The two condemned areagain in the hands of the archers. D'Artagnan approaches them, seeingthem pale and sinking: "Console yourselves, poor men, " said he, "youwill not undergo the frightful torture with which these wretchesthreatened you. The king has condemned you to be hung: you shall only behung. Go on, hang them, and it will be over. "

There is no longer anything going on at the Image-de-Notre-Dame. Thefire has been extinguished with two tuns of wine in default of water. The conspirators have fled by the garden. The archers were dragging theculprits to the gibbets. From this moment the affair did not occupy muchtime. The executioner, heedless about operating according to the rulesof art, made such haste that he dispatched the condemned in a couple ofminutes. In the meantime the people gathered around D'Artagnan, --theyfelicitated, they cheered him. He wiped his brow, streaming with sweat, and his sword, streaming with blood. He shrugged his shoulders at seeingMenneville writhing at his feet in the last convulsions. And, whileRaoul turned away his eyes in compassion, he pointed to the musketeersthe gibbets laden with their melancholy fruit. "Poor devils!" said he, "I hope they died blessing me, for I saved them with great difficulty. "These words caught the ear of Menneville at the moment when he himselfwas breathing his last sigh. A dark, ironical smile flitted across hislips, he wished to reply, but the effort hastened the snapping of thechord of life--he expired. 

"Oh! all this is very frightful!" murmured Raoul: "let us begone, monsieur le chevalier. "

"You are not wounded?" asked D'Artagnan. 

"Not at all, thank you. "

"That's well! Thou art a brave fellow, mordioux! The head of the father, and the arm of Porthos. Ah! if he had been here, good Porthos, youwould have seen something worth looking at. " Then as if by way ofremembrance--

"But where the devil can that brave Porthos be?" murmured D'Artagnan. 

"Come, chevalier, pray come away, " urged Raoul. 

"One minute, my friend, let me take my thirty-seven and a halfpistoles and I am at your service. The house is a good property, " addedD'Artagnan, as he entered the Image-de-Notre-Dame, "but decidedly, even if it were less profitable, I should prefer its being in anotherquarter. "

CHAPTER 63. How M. D'Eymeris's Diamond passed into the Hands of M. D'Artagnan. 

Whilst this violent, noisy, and bloody scene was passing on the Greve, several men, barricaded behind the gate of communication with thegarden, replaced their swords in their sheaths, assisted one among themto mount a ready saddled horse which was waiting in the garden, and likea flock of startled birds, fled in all directions, some climbing thewalls, others rushing out at the gates with all the fury of a panic. Hewho mounted the horse, and gave him the spur so sharply that the animalwas near leaping the wall, this cavalier, we say, crossed the PlaceBaudoyer, passed like lightning before the crowd in the streets, ridingagainst, running over and knocking down all that came in his way, and, ten minutes after, arrived at the gates of the superintendent, more outof breath than his horse. The Abbe Fouquet, at the clatter of the hoofson the pavement, appeared at a window of the court, and before even thecavalier had set foot to the ground, "Well! Danecamp?" cried he, leaninghalf out of the window. 

"Well, it is all over, " replied the cavalier. 

"All over!" cried the abbe. "Then they are saved?"

"No, monsieur, " replied the cavalier, "they are hung. "

"Hung!" repeated the abbe, turning pale. A lateral door suddenly opened, and Fouquet appeared in the chamber, pale, distracted, with lipshalf opened, breathing a cry of grief and anger. He stopped upon thethreshold to listen to what was addressed from the court to the window. 

"Miserable wretches!" said the abbe, "you did not fight, then?"

"Like lions. "

"Say like cowards. "

"Monsieur!"

"A hundred men accustomed to war, sword in hand, are worth ten thousandarchers in a surprise. Where is Menneville, that boaster, that braggart, who was to come back either dead or a conqueror?"

"Well, monsieur, he has kept his word. He is dead!"

"Dead! Who killed him?"

"A demon disguised as a man, a giant armed with ten flaming swords--amadman, who at one blow extinguished the fire, put down the riot, and caused a hundred musketeers to rise up out of the pavement of theGreve. "

Fouquet raised his brow, streaming with sweat, murmuring, "Oh! Lyodotand D'Eymeris! dead! dead! dead! and I dishonored. "

The abbe turned round, and perceiving his brother, despairing and livid, "Come, come, " said he, "it is a blow of fate, monsieur; we must notlament thus. Our attempt has failed, because God----"

"Be silent, abbe! be silent!" cried Fouquet; "your excuses areblasphemies. Order that man up here, and let him relate the details ofthis terrible event. "

"But, brother----"

"Obey, monsieur!"

The abbe made a sign, and in half a minute the man's step was heard uponthe stairs. At the same time Gourville appeared behind Fouquet, like theguardian angel of the superintendent, pressing one finger on his lipsto enjoin observation even amidst the bursts of his grief. The ministerresumed all the serenity that human strength left at the disposal of aheart half broken with sorrow. Danecamp appeared. "Make your report, "said Gourville. 

"Monsieur, " replied the messenger, "we received orders to carry off theprisoners, and to cry 'Vive Colbert!' whilst carrying them off. "

"To burn them alive, was it not, abbe?" interrupted Gourville. 

"Yes, yes, the order was given to Menneville. Menneville knew what wasto be done, and Menneville is dead. "

This news appeared rather to reassure Gourville than to sadden him. 

"Yes, certainly to burn them alive, " said the abbe, eagerly. 

"Granted, monsieur, granted, " said the man, looking into the eyesand the faces of the two interlocutors, to ascertain what there wasprofitable or disadvantageous to himself in telling the truth. 

"Now, proceed, " said Gourville. 

"The prisoners, " cried Danecamp, "were brought to the Greve, and thepeople, in a fury, insisted upon their being burnt instead of beinghung. "

"And the people were right, " said the abbe. "Go on. "

"But, " resumed the man, "at the moment the archers were broken, at themoment the fire was set to one of the houses of the Place destined toserve as a funeral-pile for the guilty, this fury, this demon, thisgiant of whom I told you, and who we had been informed, was theproprietor of the house in question, aided by a young man whoaccompanied him, threw out of the window those who kept up the fire, called to his assistance the musketeers who were in the crowd, leapthimself from the window of the first story into the Place, and plied hissword so desperately that the victory was restored to the archers, theprisoners were retaken, and Menneville killed. When once recaptured, the condemned were executed in three minutes. " Fouquet, in spite of hisself-command, could not prevent a deep groan escaping him. 

"And this man, the proprietor of the house, what is his name?" said theabbe. 

"I cannot tell you, not having even been able to get sight of him; mypost had been appointed in the garden, and I remained at my post: onlythe affair was related to me as I repeat it. I was ordered, when oncethe affair was at an end, to come at best speed and announce to you themanner in which it finished. According to this order, I set out, fullgallop, and here I am. "

"Very well, monsieur, we have nothing else to ask of you, " said theabbe, more and more dejected, in proportion as the moment approached forfinding himself alone with his brother. 

"Have you been paid?" asked Gourville. 

"Partly, monsieur, " replied Danecamp. 

"Here are twenty pistoles. Begone, monsieur, and never forget to defend, as this time has been done, the true interests of the king. "

"Yes, monsieur, " said the man, bowing and pocketing the money. Afterwhich he went out. Scarcely had the door closed after him when Fouquet, who had remained motionless, advanced with a rapid step and stoodbetween the abbe and Gourville. Both of them at the same time openedtheir mouths to speak to him. "No excuses, " said he, "no recriminationsagainst anybody. If I had not been a false friend I should not haveconfided to any one the care of delivering Lyodot and D'Eymeris. I aloneam guilty; to me alone are reproaches and remorse due. Leave me, abbe. "

"And yet, monsieur, you will not prevent me, " replied the latter, "fromendeavoring to find out the miserable fellow who has intervened to theadvantage of M. Colbert in this so well-arranged affair; for, if it isgood policy to love our friends dearly, I do not believe that is badwhich consists in obstinately pursuing our enemies. "

"A truce to policy, abbe; begone, I beg of you, and do not let me hearany more of you till I send for you; what we most need is circumspectionand silence. You have a terrible example before you, gentlemen: noreprisals, I forbid them. "

"There are no orders, " grumbled the abbe, "which will prevent me fromavenging a family affront upon the guilty person. "

"And I, " cried Fouquet, in that imperative tone to which one feels thereis nothing to reply, "if you entertain one thought, one single thought, which is not the absolute expression of my will, I will have you castinto the Bastile two hours after that thought has manifested itself. Regulate your conduct accordingly, abbe. "

The abbe colored and bowed. Fouquet made a sign to Gourville to followhim, and was already directing his steps towards his cabinet, when theusher announced with a loud voice: "Monsieur le Chevalier d'Artagnan. "

"Who is he?" said Fouquet, negligently, to Gourville. 

"An ex-lieutenant of his majesty's musketeers, " replied Gourville, inthe same tone. Fouquet did not even take the trouble to reflect, andresumed his walk. "I beg your pardon, monseigneur!" said Gourville, "butI have remembered, this brave man has quitted the king's service, andprobably comes to receive an installment of some pension or other. "

"Devil take him!" said Fouquet, "why does he choose his opportunity soill?"

"Permit me then, monseigneur, to announce your refusal to him; for he isone of my acquaintance, and is a man whom, in our present circumstances, it would be better to have as a friend than an enemy. "

"Answer him as you please, " said Fouquet. 

"Eh! good Lord!" said the abbe, still full of malice, like anegotistical man; "tell him there is no money, particularly formusketeers. "

But scarcely had the abbe uttered this imprudent speech, when the partlyopen door was thrown back, and D'Artagnan appeared. 

"Eh! Monsieur Fouquet, " said he, "I was well aware there was no moneyfor musketeers here. Therefore I did not come to obtain any, but to haveit refused. That being done, receive my thanks. I give you good-day, andwill go and seek it at M. Colbert's. " And he went out, making an easybow. 

"Gourville, " said Fouquet, "run after that man and bring him back. "Gourville obeyed, and overtook D'Artagnan on the stairs. 

D'Artagnan, hearing steps behind him, turned round and perceivedGourville. "Mordioux! my dear monsieur, " said he, "these are sad lessonswhich you gentlemen of finance teach us; I come to M. Fouquet to receivea sum accorded by his majesty, and I am received like a mendicant whocomes to ask charity, or a thief who comes to steal a piece of plate. "

"But you pronounced the name of M. Colbert, my dear M. D'Artagnan; yousaid you were going to M. Colbert's?"

"I certainly am going there, were it only to ask satisfaction of thepeople who try to burn houses, crying 'Vive Colbert!'"

Gourville pricked up his ears. "Oh, oh!" said he, "you allude to whathas just happened at the Greve?"

"Yes, certainly. "

"And in what did that which has taken place concern you?"

"What! do you ask me whether it concerns me or does not concern me, ifM. Colbert pleases to make a funeral-pile of my house?"

"So ho, your house--was it your house they wanted to burn?"

"Pardieu! was it!"

"Is the cabaret of the Image-de-Notre-Dame yours, then?"

"It has been this week. "

"Well, then, are you the brave captain, are you the valiant blade whodispersed those who wished to burn the condemned?"

"My dear Monsieur Gourville, put yourself in my place. I was an agentof the public force and a landlord, too. As a captain, it is my duty tohave the orders of the king accomplished. As a proprietor, it is to myinterest my house should not be burnt. I have at the same time attendedto the laws of interest and duty in replacing Messieurs Lyodot andD'Eymeris in the hands of the archers. "

"Then it was you who threw the man out of the window?"

"It was I, myself, " replied D'Artagnan, modestly

"And you who killed Menneville?"

"I had that misfortune, " said D'Artagnan, bowing like a man who is beingcongratulated. 

"It was you, then, in short, who caused the two condemned persons to behung?"

"Instead of being burnt, yes, monsieur, and I am proud of it. I savedthe poor devils from horrible tortures. Understand, my dear Monsieur deGourville, that they wanted to burn them alive. It exceeds imagination!"

"Go, my dear Monsieur d'Artagnan, go, " said Gourville, anxious to spareFouquet the sight of the man who had just caused him such profoundgrief. 

"No, " said Fouquet, who had heard all from the door of the ante-chamber;"not so; on the contrary, Monsieur d'Artagnan, come in. "

D'Artagnan wiped from the hilt of his sword a last bloody trace, whichhad escaped his notice, and returned. He then found himself face toface with these three men, whose countenances wore very differentexpressions. With the abbe it was anger, with Gourville stupor, withFouquet it was dejection. 

"I beg your pardon, monsieur le ministre, " said D'Artagnan, "but mytime is short; I have to go to the office of the intendant, to have anexplanation with Monsieur Colbert, and to receive my quarter's pension. "

"But, monsieur, " said Fouquet, "there is money here. " D'Artagnanlooked at the superintendent with astonishment. "You have been answeredinconsiderately, monsieur, I know, because I heard it, " said theminister; "a man of your merit ought to be known by everybody. "D'Artagnan bowed. "Have you an order?" added Fouquet. 

"Yes, monsieur. "

"Give it me, I will pay you myself; come with me. " He made a sign toGourville and the abbe, who remained in the chamber where they were. He led D'Artagnan into his cabinet. As soon as the door was shut, --"Howmuch is due to you, monsieur?"

"Why, something like five thousand livres, monseigneur. "

"For arrears of pay?"

"For a quarter's pay. "

"A quarter consisting of five thousand livres!" said Fouquet, fixingupon the musketeer a searching look. "Does the king, then, give youtwenty thousand livres a year?"

"Yes, monseigneur, twenty thousand livres a year. Do you think it is toomuch?"

"I?" cried Fouquet, and he smiled bitterly. "If I had any knowledge ofmankind, if I were--instead of being a frivolous, inconsequent, and vainspirit--of a prudent and reflective spirit; if, in a word, I had, ascertain persons have known how, regulated my life, you would not receivetwenty thousand livres a year, but a hundred thousand, and you would notbelong to the king, but to me. "

D'Artagnan colored slightly. There is sometimes in the manner in whicha eulogium is given, in the voice, in the affectionate tone, a poison sosweet, that the strongest mind is intoxicated by it. The superintendentterminated his speech by opening a drawer, and taking from it fourrouleaux which he placed before D'Artagnan. The Gascon opened one. "Gold!" said he. 

"It will be less burdensome, monsieur. "

"But then, monsieur, these make twenty thousand livres. "

"No doubt they do. "

"But only five are due to me. "

"I wish to spare you the trouble of coming four times to my office. "

"You overwhelm me, monsieur. "

"I do only what I ought to do, monsieur le chevalier; and I hope youwill not bear me any malice on account of the rude reception my brothergave you. He is of a sour, capricious disposition. "

"Monsieur, " said D'Artagnan, "believe me, nothing would grieve me morethan an excuse from you. "

"Therefore I will make no more, and will content myself with asking youa favor. "

"Oh, monsieur. "

Fouquet drew from his finger a ring worth about a thousand pistoles. "Monsieur, " said he, "this stone was given me by a friend of mychildhood, by a man to whom you have rendered a great service. "

"A service--I?" said the musketeer, "I have rendered a service to one ofyour friends?"

"You cannot have forgotten it, monsieur, for it dates this very day. "

"And that friend's name was----"

"M. D'Eymeris. "

"One of the condemned?"

"Yes, one of the victims. Well! Monsieur d'Artagnan, in return for theservice you have rendered him, I beg you to accept this diamond. Do sofor my sake. "

"Monsieur! you----"

"Accept it, I say. To-day is with me a day of mourning; hereafter youwill, perhaps, learn why; to-day I have lost one friend; well, I willtry to get another. "

"But, Monsieur Fouquet----"

"Adieu! Monsieur d'Artagnan, adieu!" cried Fouquet, with much emotion;"or rather, au revoir. " And the minister quitted the cabinet, leaving inthe hands of the musketeer the ring and the twenty thousand livres. 

"Oh!" said D'Artagnan, after a moment's dark reflection. "How on eartham I to understand what this means? Mordioux! I can understand thismuch, only: he is a gallant man! I will go and explain matters to M. Colbert. " And he went out. 

CHAPTER 64. Of the Notable Difference D'Artagnan finds between Monsieurthe Intendant and Monsieur the Superintendent

M. Colbert resided in the Rue Neuve des Petits-Champs in a house whichhad belonged to Beautru. D'Artagnan's legs cleared the distance in ashort quarter of an hour. When he arrived at the residence of thenew favorite, the court was full of archers and police, who came tocongratulate him, or to excuse themselves according to whether he shouldchoose to praise or blame. The sentiment of flattery is instinctivewith people of abject condition; they have the sense of it, as the wildanimal has that of hearing and smell. These people, or their leader, understood that there was a pleasure to offer to M. Colbert, inrendering him an account of the fashion in which his name had beenpronounced during the rash enterprise of the morning. D'Artagnan madehis appearance just as the chief of the watch was giving his report. Hestood close to the door, behind the archers. That officer took Colberton one side, in spite of his resistance and the contraction of his bushyeyebrows. "In case, " said he, "you really desired, monsieur, that thepeople should do justice on the two traitors, it would have been wiseto warn us of it; for, indeed, monsieur, in spite of our regret atdispleasing you, or thwarting your views, we had our orders to execute. "

"Triple fool!" replied Colbert, furiously shaking his hair, thick andblack as a mane, "what are you telling me? What! that I could have hadan idea of a riot! Are you mad or drunk?"

"But, monsieur, they cried, 'Vive Colbert!'" replied the tremblingwatch. 

"A handful of conspirators----"

"No, no; a mass of people. "

"Ah! indeed, " said Colbert, expanding. "A mass of people cried, 'ViveColbert!' Are you certain of what you say, monsieur?"

"We had nothing to do but open our ears, or rather to close them, soterrible were the cries. "

"And this was from the people, the real people?"

"Certainly, monsieur; only these real people beat us. "

"Oh! very well, " continued Colbert, thoughtfully. "Then you suppose itwas the people alone who wished to burn the condemned?"

"Oh! yes, monsieur. "

"That is quite another thing. You strongly resisted, then?"

"We had three of our men crushed to death, monsieur!"

"But you killed nobody yourselves?"

"Monsieur, a few of the rioters were left upon the square, and one amongthem who was not a common man. "

"Who was he?"

"A certain Menneville, upon whom the police have a long time had aneye. "

"Menneville!" cried Colbert, "what, he who killed Rue de la Huchette, aworthy man who wanted a fat fowl?"

"Yes, monsieur; the same. "

"And did this Menneville also cry, 'Vive Colbert'?"

"Louder than all the rest, like a madman. "

Colbert's brow grew dark and wrinkled. A kind of ambitious glory whichhad lighted his face was extinguished, like the light of glow-worms wecrush beneath the grass. "Then you say, " resumed the deceived intendant, "that the initiative came from the people? Menneville was my enemy, Iwould have had him hung, and he knew it well. Menneville belonged tothe Abbe Fouquet--the affair originated with Fouquet; does not everybodyknow that the condemned were his friends from childhood?"

"That is true, " thought D'Artagnan, "and thus are all my doubts clearedup. I repeat it, Monsieur Fouquet many be called what they please, buthe is a very gentlemanly man. "

"And, " continued Colbert, "are you quite sure Menneville is dead?"

D'Artagnan thought the time was come for him to make his appearance. "Perfectly, monsieur;" replied he, advancing suddenly. 

"Oh! is that you, monsieur?" said Colbert. 

"In person, " replied the musketeer with his deliberate tone; "it appearsthat you had in Menneville a pretty enemy. "

"It was not I, monsieur, who had an enemy, " replied Colbert; "it was theking. "

"Double brute!" thought D'Artagnan, "to think to play the great man andthe hypocrite with me. Well, " continued he to Colbert, "I am very happyto have rendered so good a service to the king; will you take upon youto tell his majesty, monsieur l'intendant?"

"What commission is this you give me, and what do you charge me to tellhis majesty, monsieur? Be precise, if you please, " said Colbert, in asharp voice, tuned beforehand to hostility. 

"I give you no commission, " replied D'Artagnan, with that calmness whichnever abandons the banterer; "I thought it would be easy for you toannounce to his majesty that it was I who, being there by chance, didjustice upon Menneville and restored things to order. "

Colbert opened his eyes and interrogated the chief of the watch with alook--"Ah! it is very true, " said the latter, "that this gentleman savedus. "

"Why did you not tell me monsieur, that you came to relate me this?"said Colbert with envy, "everything is explained, and more favorably foryou than for anybody else. "

"You are in error, monsieur l'intendant, I did not at all come for thepurpose of relating that to you. "

"It is an exploit, nevertheless. "

"Oh!" said the musketeer carelessly, "constant habit blunts the mind. "

"To what do I owe the honor of your visit, then?"

"Simply to this: the king ordered me to come to you. "

"Ah!" said Colbert, recovering himself when he saw D'Artagnan draw apaper from his pocket; "it is to demand some money of me?"

"Precisely, monsieur. '

"Have the goodness to wait, if you please, monsieur, till I havedispatched the report of the watch. "

D'Artagnan turned upon his heel, insolently enough, and finding himselfface to face with Colbert, after his first turn, he bowed to him as aharlequin would have done; then, after a second evolution, he directedhis steps towards the door in quick time. Colbert was struck with thispointed rudeness, to which he was not accustomed. In general, men ofthe sword, when they came to his office, had such a want of money, thatthough their feet seemed to take root in the marble, they hardly losttheir patience. Was D'Artagnan going straight to the king? Would he goand describe his rough reception, or recount his exploit? This was amatter for grave consideration. At all events, the moment was badlychosen to send D'Artagnan away, whether he came from the king, or on hisown account. The musketeer had rendered too great a service, and thattoo recently, for it to be already forgotten. Therefore Colbert thoughtit would be better to shake off his arrogance and call D'Artagnan back. "Ho! Monsieur d'Artagnan, " cried Colbert, "what! are you leaving methus?"

D'Artagnan turned round: "Why not?" said he, quietly, "we have no moreto say to each other, have we?"

"You have, at least, money to receive, as you have an order?"

"Who, I? Oh! not at all, my dear Monsieur Colbert. "

"But, monsieur, you have an order. And, in the same manner as you give asword-thrust, when you are required, I, on my part, pay when an order ispresented to me. Present yours. "

"It is useless, my dear Monsieur Colbert, " said D'Artagnan, who inwardlyenjoyed this confusion in the ideas of Colbert; "my order is paid. "

"Paid, by whom?"

"By monsieur le surintendant. "

Colbert grew pale. 

"Explain yourself, " said he, in a stifled voice--"if you are paid why doyou show me that paper?"

"In consequence of the word of order of which you spoke to me soingeniously just now, dear M. Colbert; the king told me to take aquarter of the pension he is pleased to make me. "

"Of me?" said Colbert. 

"Not exactly. The king said to me: 'Go to M. Fouquet; the superintendentwill, perhaps, have no money, then you will go and draw it of M. Colbert. '"

The countenance of M. Colbert brightened for a moment; but it was withhis unfortunate physiognomy as with a stormy sky, sometimes radiant, sometimes dark as night, according as the lightning gleams or the cloudpasses. "Eh! and was there any money in the superintendent's coffers?"asked he. 

"Why, yes, he could not be badly off for money, " replied D'Artagnan--"itmay be believed, since M. Fouquet, instead of paying me a quarter orfive thousand livres----"

"A quarter or five thousand livres!" cried Colbert, struck, as Fouquethad been, with the generosity of the sum for a soldier's pension, "why, that would be a pension of twenty thousand livres?"

"Exactly, M. Colbert. Peste! you reckon like old Pythagoras; yes, twentythousand livres. "

"Ten times the appointment of an intendant of the finances. I beg tooffer you my compliments, " said Colbert, with a vicious smile. 

"Oh!" said D'Artagnan, "the king apologized for giving me so little;but he promised to make it more hereafter, when he should be rich; but Imust be gone, having much to do----"

"So, then, notwithstanding the expectation of the king, thesuperintendent paid you, did he?"

"In the same manner as, in opposition to the king's expectation, yourefused to pay me. "

"I did not refuse, monsieur, I only begged you to wait. And you say thatM. Fouquet paid you your five thousand livres?"

"Yes, as you might have done; but he did even better than that, M. Colbert. "

"And what did he do?"

"He politely counted me down the sum-total, saying, that for the king, his coffers were always full. "

"The sum-total! M. Fouquet has given you twenty thousand livres insteadof five thousand?"

"Yes, monsieur. "

"And what for?"

"In order to spare me three visits to the money-chest of thesuperintendent, so that I have the twenty thousand livres in my pocketin good new coin. You see, then, that I am able to go away withoutstanding in need of you, having come here only for form's sake. "And D'Artagnan slapped his hand upon his pocket, with a laugh whichdisclosed to Colbert thirty-two magnificent teeth, as white as teeth oftwenty-five years old and which seemed to say in their language: "Serveup to us thirty-two little Colberts, and we will chew them willingly. "The serpent is as brave as the lion, the hawk as courageous as theeagle, that cannot be contested. It can only be said of animals that aredecidedly cowardly, and are so called, that they will be brave onlywhen they have to defend themselves. Colbert was not frightened at thethirty-two teeth of D'Artagnan. He recovered, and suddenly, --"Monsieur, "said he, "monsieur le surintendant has done what he had no right to do. "

"What do you mean by that?" replied D'Artagnan. 

"I mean that your note--will you let me see your note, if you please?"

"Very willingly; here it is. "

Colbert seized the paper with an eagerness which the musketeer did notremark without uneasiness, and particularly without a certain degree ofregret at having trusted him with it. "Well, monsieur, the royal ordersays this:--'At sight, I command that there be paid to M. D'Artagnanthe sum of five thousand livres, forming a quarter of the pension I havemade him. '"

"So, in fact, it is written, " said D'Artagnan, affecting calmness. 

"Very well; the king only owed you five thousand livres; why has morebeen given to you?"

"Because there was more; and M. Fouquet was willing to give me more;that does not concern anybody. "

"It is natural, " said Colbert, with a proud ease, "that you should beignorant of the usages of state-finance; but, monsieur, when you have athousand livres to pay, what do you do?"

"I never have a thousand livres to pay, " replied D'Artagnan. 

"Once more, " said Colbert, irritated--"once more, if you had any sum topay, would you not pay what you ought?"

"That only proves one thing, " said D'Artagnan; "and that is, that youhave your particular customs in finance, and M. Fouquet has his own. "

"Mine, monsieur, are the correct ones. "

"I do not say they are not. "

"And you have accepted what was not due to you. "

D'Artagnan's eyes flashed. "What is not due to me yet, you meant tosay, M. Colbert; for if I had received what was not due to me at all, Ishould have committed a theft. "

Colbert made no reply to this subtlety. "You then owe fifteen thousandlivres to the public chest, " said he, carried away by his jealous ardor. 

"Then you must give me credit for them, " replied D'Artagnan, with hisimperceptible irony. 

"Not at all, monsieur. "

"Well! what will you do, then? You will not take my rouleaux from me, will you?"

"You must return them to my chest. "

"I! Oh! Monsieur Colbert, don't reckon upon that. "

"The king wants his money, monsieur. "

"And I, monsieur, I want the king's money. "

"That may be but you must return this. "

"Not a sou. I have always understood that in matters of comptabilite, asyou call it, a good cashier never gives back or takes back. "

"Then, monsieur, we shall see what the king will say about it. I willshow him this note, which proves that M. Fouquet not only pays what hedoes not owe, but that he does not even take care of vouchers for thesums that he has paid. "

"Ah! now I understand why you have taken that paper, M. Colbert!"

Colbert did not perceive all that there was of a threatening characterin his name pronounced in a certain manner. "You shall see hereafterwhat use I will make of it, " said he, holding up the paper in hisfingers. 

"Oh!" said D'Artagnan, snatching the paper from him with a rapidmovement; "I understand it perfectly well, M. Colbert; I have nooccasion to wait for that. " And he crumpled up in his pocket the paperhe had so cleverly seized. 

"Monsieur, monsieur!" cried Colbert, "this is violence!"

"Nonsense! You must not be particular about a soldier's manners!"replied D'Artagnan. "I kiss your hands, my dear M. Colbert. " And he wentout, laughing in the face of the future minister. 

"That man, now, " muttered he, "was about to grow quite friendly; it is agreat pity I was obliged to cut his company so soon. "

CHAPTER 65. Philosophy of the Heart and Mind

For a man who had seen so many much more dangerous ones, the positionof D'Artagnan with respect to M. Colbert was only comic. D'Artagnan, therefore, did not deny himself the satisfaction of laughing at theexpense of monsieur l'intendant, from the Rue des Petits-Champs to theRue des Lombards. It was a great while since D'Artagnan had laughed solong together. He was still laughing when Planchet appeared, laughinglikewise, at the door of his house; for Planchet, since the returnof his patron, since the entrance of the English guineas, passed thegreater part of his life in doing what D'Artagnan had only done fromRue-Neuve des Petits-Champs to the Rue des Lombards. 

"You are home, then, my dear master?" said Planchet. 

"No, my friend, " replied the musketeer, "I am off and that quickly. Iwill sup with you, go to bed, sleep five hours, and at break of day leapinto my saddle. Has my horse had an extra feed?"

"Eh! my dear master, " replied Planchet, "you know very well that yourhorse is the jewel of the family; that my lads are caressing it all day, and cramming it with sugar, nuts, and biscuits. You ask me if he has hadan extra feed of oats; you should ask if he has not had enough to bursthim. "

"Very well, Planchet, that is all right. Now, then, I pass to whatconcerns me--my supper?"

"Ready. A smoking roast joint, white wine, crayfish and fresh-gatheredcherries. All ready, my master. "

"You are a capital fellow, Planchet; come on, then, let us sup, and Iwill go to bed. "

During supper D'Artagnan observed that Planchet kept rubbing hisforehead, as if to facilitate the issue of some idea closely pent withinhis brain. He looked with an air of kindness at this worthy companion offormer adventures and misadventures, and, clinking glass against glass, "Come, Planchet, " said he, "let us see what it is that gives you so muchtrouble to bring forth. Mordioux! Speak freely, and quickly. "

"Well, this is it, " replied Planchet: "you appear to me to be going onsome expedition or other. "

"I don't say that I am not. "

"Then you have some new idea?"

"That is possible, too, Planchet. "

"Then there will be fresh capital to be ventured? I will lay downfifty thousand livres upon the idea you are about to carry out. " And sosaying, Planchet rubbed his hands one against the other with a rapidityevincing great delight. 

"Planchet, " said D'Artagnan, "there is but one misfortune in it. "

"And what is that?"

"That the idea is not mine. I can risk nothing upon it. "

These words drew a deep sigh from the heart of Planchet. That Avariceis an ardent counselor; she carries away her man, as Satan did Jesus, to the mountain, and when once she has shown to an unfortunate all thekingdoms of the earth, she is able to repose herself, knowing full wellthat she has left her companion, Envy, to gnaw his heart. Planchet hadtasted of riches easily acquired, and was never afterwards likelyto stop in his desires; but, as he had a good heart in spite of hiscovetousness, as he adored D'Artagnan, he could not refrain from makinghim a thousand recommendations, each more affectionate than the others. He would not have been sorry, nevertheless, to have caught a little hintof the secret his master concealed so well; tricks, turns, counsels andtraps were all useless, D'Artagnan let nothing confidential escapehim. The evening passed thus. After supper the portmanteau occupiedD'Artagnan, he took a turn to the stable, patted his horse, and examinedhis shoes and legs, then, having counted over his money, he went tobed, sleeping as if only twenty, because he had neither inquietude norremorse; he closed his eyes five minutes after he had blown out hislamp. Many events might, however, have kept him awake. Thought boiledin his brain, conjectures abounded, and D'Artagnan was a great drawerof horoscopes; but, with that imperturbable phlegm which does morethan genius for the fortune and happiness of men of action, he put offreflection till the next day, for fear, he said, not to be fresh when hewanted to be so. 

The day came. The Rue des Lombards had its share of the caresses ofAurora with the rosy fingers, and D'Artagnan arose like Aurora. He didnot awaken anybody, he placed his portmanteau under his arm, descendedthe stairs without making one of them creak and without disturbing oneof the sonorous snorings in every story from the garret to the cellar, then, having saddled his horse, shut the stable and house doors, he setoff, at a foot-pace, on his expedition to Bretagne. He had done quiteright not to trouble himself with all the political and diplomaticaffairs which solicited his attention; for, in the morning, in freshnessand mild twilight, his ideas developed themselves in purity andabundance. In the first place, he passed before the house of Fouquet, and threw in a large gaping box the fortunate order which, the eveningbefore, he had had so much trouble to recover from the hooked fingers ofthe intendant. Placed in an envelope, and addressed to Fouquet, ithad not even been divined by Planchet, who in divination was equal toCalchas or the Pythian Apollo. D'Artagnan thus sent back the order toFouquet, without compromising himself, and without having thenceforwardany reproaches to make himself. When he had effected this properrestitution, "Now, " said he to himself, "let us inhale much maternalair, much freedom from cares, much health, let us allow the horseZephyr, whose flanks puff as if he had to respire an atmosphere tobreathe, and let us be very ingenious in our little calculations. It istime, " said D'Artagnan, "to form a plan of the campaign, and, accordingto the method of M. Turenne, who has a large head full of all sorts ofgood counsels, before the plan of the campaign it is advisable to drawa striking portrait of the generals to whom we are opposed. In the firstplace, M. Fouquet presents himself. What is M. Fouquet? M. Fouquet, "replied D'Artagnan to himself, "is a handsome man, very much beloved bythe women, a generous man very much beloved by the poets; a man of wit, much execrated by pretenders. Well, now I am neither woman, poet, norpretender: I neither love nor hate monsieur le surintendant. I findmyself, therefore, in the same position in which M. De Turenne foundhimself when opposed to the Prince de Conde at Jargeau, Gien and theFaubourg Saint-Antoine. He did not execrate monsieur le prince, it istrue, but he obeyed the king. Monsieur le prince is an agreeable man, but the king is king. Turenne heaved a deep sigh, called Conde 'Mycousin, ' and swept away his army. Now what does the king wish? Thatdoes not concern me. Now, what does M. Colbert wish? Oh, that's anotherthing. M. Colbert wishes all that M. Fouquet does not wish. Then whatdoes M. Fouquet wish? Oh, that is serious. M. Fouquet wishes preciselyfor all which the king wishes. "

This monologue ended, D'Artagnan began to laugh, whilst making his whipwhistle in the air. He was already on the high road, frightening thebirds in the hedges, listening to the livres chinking and dancing in hisleather pocket, at every step; and, let us confess it, every time thatD'Artagnan found himself in such conditions tenderness was not hisdominant vice. "Come, " said he, "I cannot think the expedition a verydangerous one; and it will fall out with my voyage as with that pieceM. Monk took me to see in London, which was called, I think, 'Much Adoabout Nothing. '"

CHAPTER 66. The Journey

It was perhaps the fiftieth time since the day on which we open thishistory, that this man, with a heart of bronze and muscles of steel, hadleft house and friends, everything, in short, to go in search of fortuneand death. The one--that is to say, death--had constantly retreatedbefore him, as if afraid of him; the other--that is to say, fortune--fora month past only had really made an alliance with him. Although hewas not a great philosopher, after the fashion of either Epicurusor Socrates, he was a powerful spirit, having knowledge of life, andendowed with thought. No one is as brave, as adventurous, or as skillfulas D'Artagnan, without being at the same time inclined to be a dreamer. He had picked up, here and there, some scraps of M. De la Rochefoucauld, worthy of being translated into Latin by MM. De Port Royal, and he hadmade a collection, en passant, in the society of Athos and Aramis, ofmany morsels of Seneca and Cicero, translated by them, and applied tothe uses of common life. That contempt of riches which our Gascon hadobserved as an article of faith during the thirty-five first yearsof his life, had for a long time been considered by him as the firstarticle of the code of bravery. "Article first, " said he, "A man isbrave because he has nothing. A man has nothing because he despisesriches. " Therefore, with these principles, which, as we have said hadregulated the thirty-five first years of his life, D'Artagnan was nosooner possessed of riches, than he felt it necessary to ask himself if, in spite of his riches, he were still brave. To this, for any otherbut D'Artagnan, the events of the Place de Greve might have served asa reply. Many consciences would have been satisfied with them, butD'Artagnan was brave enough to ask himself sincerely and conscientiouslyif he were brave. Therefore to this:--

"But it appears to me that I drew promptly enough and cut and thrustpretty freely on the Place de Greve to be satisfied of my bravery, "D'Artagnan had himself replied. "Gently, captain, that is not an answer. I was brave that day, because they were burning my house, and thereare a hundred, and even a thousand, to speak against one, that if thosegentlemen of the riots had not formed that unlucky idea, their plan ofattack would have succeeded, or, at least, it would not have been I whowould have opposed myself to it. Now, what will be brought against me? Ihave no house to be burnt in Bretagne; I have no treasure there thatcan be taken from me. --No; but I have my skin; that precious skin of M. D'Artagnan, which to him is worth more than all the houses and all thetreasures of the world. That skin to which I cling above everything, because it is, everything considered, the binding of a body whichencloses a heart very warm and ready to fight, and, consequently, tolive. Then, I do desire to live; and, in reality, I live much better, more completely, since I have become rich. Who the devil ever said thatmoney spoiled life! Upon my soul, it is no such thing; on the contrary, it seems as if I absorbed a double quantity of air and sun. Mordioux!what will it be then, if I double that fortune, and if, instead ofthe switch I now hold in my hand, I should ever carry the baton of amarechal? Then I really don't know if there will be, from that momentenough of air and sun for me. In fact, this is not a dream, who thedevil would oppose it, if the king made me a marechal, as his father, King Louis XIII. , made a duke and constable of Albert de Luynes? Am Inot as brave, and much more intelligent, than that imbecile De Vitry?Ah! that's exactly what will prevent my advancement: I have too muchwit. Luckily, if there is any justice in this world, fortune owes memany compensations. She owes me certainly a recompense for all I did forAnne of Austria, and an indemnification for all she has not done for me. Then, at the present, I am very well with a king, and with a king whohas the appearance of determining to reign. May God keep him in thatillustrious road! For, if he is resolved to reign he will want me; andif he wants me, he will give me what he has promised me--warmth andlight; so that I march, comparatively, now, as I marched formerly, --fromnothing to everything. Only the nothing of to-day is the all of formerdays; there has only this little change taken place in my life. Andnow let us see! let us take the part of the heart, as I just now wasspeaking of it. But in truth, I only spoke of it from memory. " And theGascon applied his hand to his breast, as if he were actually seekingthe place where his heart was. 

"Ah! wretch!" murmured he, smiling with bitterness. "Ah! poor mortalspecies! You hoped, for an instant, that you had not a heart, and nowyou find you have one--bad courtier as thou art, --and even one of themost seditious. You have a heart which speaks to you in favor of M. Fouquet. And what is M. Fouquet, when the king is in question?--Aconspirator, a real conspirator, who did not even give himself thetrouble to conceal his being a conspirator; therefore, what a weaponwould you not have against him, if his good grace and his intelligencehad not made a scabbard for that weapon. An armed revolt!--for, in fact, M. Fouquet has been guilty of an armed revolt. Thus, while the kingvaguely suspects M. Fouquet of rebellion, I know it--I could provethat M. Fouquet had caused the shedding of the blood of his majesty'ssubjects. Now, then, let us see? Knowing all that, and holding mytongue, what further would this heart wish in return for a kind actionof M. Fouquet's, for an advance of fifteen thousand livres, for adiamond worth a thousand pistoles, for a smile in which there was asmuch bitterness as kindness?--I save his life. "

"Now, then, I hope, " continued the musketeer, "that this imbecile ofa heart is going to preserve silence, and so be fairly quits with M. Fouquet. Now, then, the king becomes my sun, and as my heart is quitswith M. Fouquet, let him beware who places himself between me and mysun! Forward, for his majesty Louis XIV. !--Forward!"

These reflections were the only impediments which were able to retardthe progress of D'Artagnan. These reflections once made, he increasedthe speed of his horse. But, however perfect his horse Zephyr mightbe, it could not hold out at such a pace forever. The day after hisdeparture from Paris, he was left at Chartres, at the house of an oldfriend D'Artagnan had met with in an hotelier of that city. From thatmoment the musketeer travelled on post-horses. Thanks to this modeof locomotion, he traversed the space separating Chartres fromChateaubriand. In the last of these two cities, far enough from thecoast to prevent any one guessing that D'Artagnan wished to reach thesea--far enough from Paris to prevent all suspicion of his being amessenger from Louis XIV. , whom D'Artagnan had called his sun, withoutsuspecting that he who was only at present a rather poor star in theheaven of royalty, would, one day, make that star his emblem; themessenger of Louis XIV. , we say, quitted the post and purchased a bidetof the meanest appearance, --one of those animals which an officer ofcavalry would never choose, for fear of being disgraced. Exceptingthe color, this new acquisition recalled to the mind of D'Artagnan thefamous orange-colored horse, with which, or rather upon which, he hadmade his first appearance in the world. Truth to say, from the momenthe crossed this new steed, it was no longer D'Artagnan who wastravelling, --it was a good man clothed in an iron-gray justaucorps, brown haut-de-chausses, holding the medium between a priest and alayman; that which brought him nearest to the churchman was, thatD'Artagnan had placed on his head a calotte of threadbare velvet, andover the calotte, a large black hat; no more sword, a stick, hung by acord to his wrist, but to which, he promised himself, as an unexpectedauxiliary, to join, upon occasion, a good dagger, ten inches long, concealed under his cloak. The bidet purchased at Chateaubriandcompleted the metamorphosis; it was called, or rather D'Artagnan calledit, Furet (ferret). 

"If I have changed Zephyr into Furet, " said D'Artagnan, "I must makesome diminutive or other of my own name. So, instead of D'Artagnan, Iwill be Agnan, short; that is a concession which I naturally owe to mygray coat, my round hat, and my rusty calotte. "

Monsieur D'Artagnan traveled, then, pretty easily upon Furet, whoambled like a true butter-woman's pad, and who, with his amble, managedcheerfully about twelve leagues a day, upon four spindle-shanks, ofwhich the practiced eye of D'Artagnan had appreciated the strength andsafety beneath the thick mass of hair which covered them. Joggingalong, the traveler took notes, studied the country, which he traversedreserved and silent, ever seeking the most plausible pretext forreaching Belle-Isle-en-Mer, and for seeing everything without arousingsuspicion. In this manner, he was enabled to convince himself of theimportance the event assumed in proportion as he drew near to it. Inthis remote country, in this ancient duchy of Bretagne, which was notFrance at that period, and is not so even now, the people knew nothingof the king of France. They not only did not know him, but wereunwilling to know him. One face--a single one--floated visibly for themupon the political current. Their ancient dukes no longer ruled them;government was a void--nothing more. In place of the sovereign duke, the seigneurs of parishes reigned without control; and, above theseseigneurs, God, who has never been forgotten in Bretagne. Among thesesuzerains of chateaux and belfries, the most powerful, the richest, andthe most popular, was M. Fouquet, seigneur of Belle-Isle. Even inthe country, even within sight of that mysterious isle, legends andtraditions consecrate its wonders. Every one might not penetrate it: theisle, of an extent of six leagues in length, and six in breadth, wasa seignorial property, which the people had for a long time respected, covered as it was with the name of Retz, so redoubtable in thecountry. Shortly after the erection of this seignory into a marquisate, Belle-Isle passed to M. Fouquet. The celebrity of the isle did not datefrom yesterday; its name, or rather its qualification, is traced back tothe remotest antiquity. The ancients called it Kalonese, from two Greekwords, signifying beautiful isle. Thus at a distance of eighteen hundredyears, it had borne, in another idiom, the same name it still bears. There was, then, something in itself in this property of M. Fouquet's, besides its position of six leagues off the coast of France; a positionwhich makes it a sovereign in its maritime solitude, like a majesticship which disdains roads, and proudly casts anchor in mid-ocean. 

D'Artagnan learnt all this without appearing the least in the worldastonished. He also learnt that the best way to get intelligence was togo to La Roche-Bernard, a tolerably important city at the mouth ofthe Vilaine. Perhaps there he could embark; if not, crossing thesalt marshes, he would repair to Guerande-en-Croisic, to wait for anopportunity to cross over to Belle-Isle. He had discovered, besides, since his departure from Chateaubriand, that nothing would be impossiblefor Furet under the impulsion of M. Agnan, and nothing to M. Agnanthrough the initiative of Furet. He prepared, then, to sup off a tealand a tourteau, in a hotel of La Roche-Bernard, and ordered to bebrought from the cellar, to wash down these two Breton dishes, somecider, which, the moment it touched his lips, he perceived to be moreBreton still. 

CHAPTER 67. How D'Artagnan became acquainted with a Poet, who had turnedPrinter for the sake of printing his own Verses

Before taking his place at table, D'Artagnan acquired, as was hiscustom, all the information he could; but it is an axiom of curiosity, that every man who wishes to question well and fruitfully ought in thefirst place to lay himself open to questions. D'Artagnan sought, then, with his usual skill, a promising questioner in the hostelry of LaRoche-Bernard. At the moment, there were in the house, on the firststory, two travelers either preparing for supper, or at supper itself. D'Artagnan had seen their nags in the stable, and their equipages inthe salle. One traveled with a lackey, undoubtedly a person ofconsideration;--two Perche mares, sleek, sound beasts, were suitablemeans of locomotion. The other, a little fellow, a traveler of meagreappearance, wearing a dusty surtout, dirty linen, and boots more worn bythe pavement than the stirrup, had come from Nantes with a cart drawnby a horse so like Furet in color, that D'Artagnan might have gone ahundred miles without finding a better match. This cart contained diverslarge packets wrapped in pieces of old stuff. 

"That traveler yonder, " said D'Artagnan to himself, "is the man formy money. He will do, he suits me; I ought to do for and suit him; M. Agnan, with the gray doublet and the rusty calotte, is not unworthy ofsupping with the gentleman of the old boots and still older horse. "

This said, D'Artagnan called the host, and desired him to send histeal, tourteau, and cider up to the chamber of the gentleman of modestexterior. He himself climbed, a plate in his hand, the wooden staircasewhich led to the chamber, and began to knock at the door. 

"Come in!" said the unknown. D'Artagnan entered, with a simper on hislips, his plate under his arm, his hat in one hand, his candle in theother. 

"Excuse me, monsieur, " said he, "I am, as you are, a traveler; I know noone in the hotel, and I have the bad habit of losing my spirits whenI eat alone, so that my repast appears a bad one to me, and does notnourish me. Your face, which I saw just now, when you came down tohave some oysters opened, --your face pleased me much. Besides, I haveobserved you have a horse just like mine, and that the host, no doubt onaccount of that resemblance, has placed them side by side in thestable, where they appear to agree amazingly well together. I therefore, monsieur, do not see any reason why the masters should be separated whenthe horses are united. Accordingly, I am come to request the pleasureof being admitted to your table. My name is Agnan, at your service, monsieur, the unworthy steward of a rich seigneur, who wishes topurchase some salt-mines in this country, and sends me to examine hisfuture acquisitions. In truth, monsieur, I should be well pleased ifmy countenance were as agreeable to you as yours is to me; for, upon myhonor, I am quite at your service. "

The stranger, whom D'Artagnan saw for the first time--for before hehad only caught a glimpse of him, --the stranger had black and brillianteyes, a yellow complexion, a brow a little wrinkled by the weight offifty years, bonhomie in his features collectively, but some cunning inhis look. 

"One would say, " thought D'Artagnan, "that this merry fellow has neverexercised more than the upper part of his head, his eyes, and hisbrain. He must be a man of science: his mouth, nose, and chin signifyabsolutely nothing. "

"Monsieur, " replied the latter, with whose mind and person we have beenmaking so free, "you do me much honor; not that I am ever ennuye, for Ihave, " added he, smiling, "a company which amuses me always; but nevermind that, I am very happy to receive you. " But when saying this, theman with the worn boots cast an uneasy look at his table, from whichthe oysters had disappeared, and upon which there was nothing left but amorsel of salt bacon. 

"Monsieur, " D'Artagnan hastened to say, "the host is bringing me up apretty piece of roasted poultry and a superb tourteau. " D'Artagnan hadread in the look of his companion, however rapid it disappeared, thefear of an attack by a parasite: he divined justly. At this opening, the features of the man of modest exterior relaxed; and, as if he hadwatched the moment for his entrance, as D'Artagnan spoke, the hostappeared, bearing the announced dishes. The tourteau and the teal wereadded to the morsel of broiled bacon; D'Artagnan and his guest bowed, sat down opposite to each other, and, like two brothers, shared thebacon and the other dishes. 

"Monsieur, " said D'Artagnan, "you must confess that association is awonderful thing. "

"How so?" replied the stranger, with his mouth full. 

"Well, I will tell you, " replied D'Artagnan. 

The stranger gave a short truce to the movement of his jaws, in order tohear the better. 

"In the first place, " continued D'Artagnan, "instead of one candle, which each of us had, we have two. "

"That is true!" said the stranger, struck with the extreme lucidity ofthe observation. 

"Then I see that you eat my tourteau in preference, whilst I, inpreference, eat your bacon. "

"That is true again. "

"And then, in addition to being better lighted and eating what weprefer, I place the pleasure of your company. "

"Truly, monsieur, you are very jovial, " said the unknown, cheerfully. 

"Yes, monsieur; jovial, as all people are who carry nothing on theirminds, or, for that matter, in their heads. Oh! I can see it is quiteanother sort of thing with you, " continued D'Artagnan; "I can read inyour eyes all sorts of genius. "

"Oh, monsieur!"

"Come, confess one thing. "

"What is that?"

"That you are a learned man. "

"Ma foi! monsieur. "

"Hein?"

"Almost. "

"Come, then!"

"I am an author. "

"There!" cried D'Artagnan, clapping his hands, "I knew I could not bedeceived! It is a miracle!"

"Monsieur----"

"What, shall I have the honor of passing the evening in the society ofan author, of a celebrated author perhaps?"

"Oh!" said the unknown, blushing, "celebrated, monsieur, celebrated isnot the word. "

"Modest!" cried D'Artagnan, transported, "he is modest!" Then, turningtowards the stranger, with a character of blunt bonhomie: "But tellme at least the name of your works, monsieur; for you will please toobserve you have not told me your name, and I have been forced to divineyour genius. "

"My name is Jupenet, monsieur, " said the author. 

"A fine name! a grand name! upon my honor; and I do not know why--pardonme the mistake, if it be one--but surely I have heard that namesomewhere. "

"I have made verses, " said the poet modestly. 

"Ah! that is it, then, I have heard them read. "

"A tragedy. "

"I must have seen it played. "

The poet blushed again, and said: "I do not think that can be the case, for my verses have never been printed. "

"Well, then, it must have been the tragedy which informed me of yourname. "

"You are again mistaken, for MM. The comedians of the Hotel deBourgogne, would have nothing to do with it, " said the poet, with asmile, the receipt for which certain sorts of pride alone knew thesecret. D'Artagnan bit his lips. "Thus, then, you see, monsieur, "continued the poet, "you are in error on my account, and that not beingat all known to you, you have never heard tell of me. "

"Ah! that confounds me. That name, Jupenet, appears to me, nevertheless, a fine name, and quite as worthy of being known as those of MM. Corneille, or Rotrou, or Garnier. I hope, monsieur, you will have thegoodness to repeat to me a part of your tragedy presently, by way ofdessert, for instance. That will be sugared roast meat, --mordioux! Ah!pardon me, monsieur, that was a little oath which escaped me, becauseit is a habit with my lord and master. I sometimes allow myself to usurpthat little oath, as it seems in pretty good taste. I take this libertyonly in his absence, please to observe, for you may understand that inhis presence--but, in truth, monsieur, this cider is abominable; do younot think so? And besides, the pot is of such an irregular shape it willnot stand on the table. "

"Suppose we were to make it level?"

"To be sure; but with what?"

"With this knife. "

"And the teal, with what shall we cut that up? Do you not, by chance, mean to touch the teal?"

"Certainly. "

"Well, then----"

"Wait. "

And the poet rummaged in his pocket, and drew out a piece of brass, oblong, quadrangular, about a line in thickness, and an inch and a halfin length. But scarcely had this little piece of brass seen the light, than the poet appeared to have committed an imprudence, and made amovement to put it back again in his pocket. D'Artagnan perceived this, for he was a man that nothing escaped. He stretched forth his handtowards the piece of brass: "Humph! that which you hold in your hand ispretty; will you allow me to look at it?"

"Certainly, " said the poet, who appeared to have yielded too soon to afirst impulse. "Certainly, you may look at it: but it will be in vainfor you to look at it, " added he, with a satisfied air; "if I were notto tell you its use, you would never guess it. "

D'Artagnan had seized as an avowal the hesitation of the poet, andhis eagerness to conceal the piece of brass which a first movement hadinduced him to take out of his pocket. His attention, therefore, onceawakened on this point, he surrounded himself with a circumspectionwhich gave him a superiority on all occasions. Besides, whatever M. Jupenet might say about it, by a simple inspection of the object, heperfectly well knew what it was. It was a character in printing. 

"Can you guess, now, what this is?" continued the poet. 

"No, " said D'Artagnan, "no, ma foi!"

"Well, monsieur, " said M. Jupenet, "this little piece of metal is aprinting letter. "

"Bah!

"A capital. "

"Stop, stop, stop;" said D'Artagnan, opening his eyes very innocently. 

"Yes, monsieur, a capital; the first letter of my name. "

"And this is a letter, is it?"

"Yes, monsieur. "

"Well, I will confess one thing to you. 

"And what is that?"

"No, I will not, I was going to say something stupid. "

"No, no, " said Master Jupenet, with a patronizing air. 

"Well then, I cannot comprehend, if that is a letter, how you can make aword. "

"A word?"

"Yes, a printed word. "

"Oh, that's very easy. "

"Let me see. "

"Does it interest you?"

"Enormously. "

"Well, I will explain the thing to you. Attend. "

"I am attending. "

"That is it. "

"Good. "

"Look attentively. "

"I am looking. " D'Artagnan, in fact, appeared absorbed in observations. Jupenet drew from his pocket seven or eight other pieces of brasssmaller than the first. 

"Ah, ah, " said D'Artagnan. 

"What!"

"You have, then, a whole printing-office in your pocket. Peste! that iscurious, indeed. "

"Is it not?"

"Good God, what a number of things we learn by traveling. "

"To your health!" said Jupenet, quite enchanted. 

"To yours, mordioux, to yours. But--an instant--not in this cider. Itis an abominable drink, unworthy of a man who quenches his thirst at theHippocrene fountain--is not it so you call your fountain, you poets?"

"Yes, monsieur, our fountain is so called. That comes from two Greekwords--hippos, which means a horse, and----"

"Monsieur, " interrupted D'Artagnan, "you shall drink of a liquor whichcomes from one single French word, and is none the worse for that--fromthe word grape; this cider gives me the heartburn. Allow me to inquireof your host if there is not a good bottle of Beaugency, or of the Cerangrowth, at the back of the large bins in his cellar. "

The host, being sent for, immediately attended. 

"Monsieur, " interrupted the poet, "take care, we shall not have time todrink the wine, unless we make great haste, for I must take advantage ofthe tide to secure the boat. "

"What boat?" asked D'Artagnan. 

"Why the boat which sets out for Belle-Isle!"

"Ah--for Belle-Isle, " said the musketeer, "that is good. "

"Bah! you will have plenty of time, monsieur, " replied the hotelier, uncorking the bottle, "the boat will not leave this hour. "

"But who will give me notice?" said the poet. 

"Your fellow-traveler, " replied the host. 

"But I scarcely know him. "

"When you hear him departing, it will be time for you to go. "

"Is he going to Belle-Isle, likewise, then?"

"The traveler who has a lackey?" asked D'Artagnan. "He is somegentleman, no doubt?"

"I know nothing of him. "

"What!--know nothing of him?"

"No, all I know is, that he is drinking the same wine as you. "

"Peste!--that is a great honor for us, " said D'Artagnan, filling hiscompanion's glass, whilst the host went out. 

"So, " resumed the poet, returning to his dominant ideas, "you never sawany printing done?"

"Never. "

"Well, then, take the letters thus, which compose the word, you see:A B; ma foi! here is an R, two E E, then a G. " And he assembled theletters with a swiftness and skill which did not escape the eye ofD'Artagnan. 

"Abrege, " said he, as he ended. 

"Good!" said D'Artagnan; "here are plenty of letters got together; buthow are they kept so?" And he poured out a second glass for the poet. M. Jupenet smiled like a man who has an answer for everything; then hepulled out--still from his pocket--a little metal ruler, composed of twoparts, like a carpenter's rule, against which he put together, and in aline, the characters, holding them under his left thumb. 

"And what do you call that little metal ruler?" said D'Artagnan, "for, Isuppose, all these things have names. "

"This is called a composing-stick, " said Jupenet; "it is by the aid ofthis stick that the lines are formed. "

"Come, then, I was not mistaken in what I said; you have a press in yourpocket, " said D'Artagnan, laughing with an air of simplicity so stupid, that the poet was completely his dupe. 

"No, " replied he; "but I am too lazy to write, and when I have a versein my head, I print it immediately. That is a labor spared. "

"Mordioux!" thought D'Artagnan to himself, "this must be cleared up. "And under a pretext, which did not embarrass the musketeer, who wasfertile in expedients, he left the table, went downstairs, ran to theshed under which stood the poet's little cart, poked the point of hisponiard into the stuff which enveloped one of the packages, which hefound full of types, like those which the poet had in his pocket. 

"Humph!" said D'Artagnan, "I do not yet know whether M. Fouquet wishesto fortify Belle-Isle; but, at all events, here are some spiritualmunitions for the castle. " Then, enchanted with his rich discovery heran upstairs again, and resumed his place at the table. 

D'Artagnan had learnt what he wished to know. He, however, remained, none the less, face to face with his partner, to the moment when theyheard from the next room symptoms of a person's being about to go out. The printer was immediately on foot; he had given orders for his horseto be got ready. His carriage was waiting at the door. The secondtraveler got into his saddle, in the courtyard, with his lackey. D'Artagnan followed Jupenet to the door; he embarked his cart and horseon board the boat. As to the opulent traveler, he did the same withhis two horses and servant. But all the wit D'Artagnan employed inendeavoring to find out his name was lost--he could learn nothing. Onlyhe took such notice of his countenance, that it was impressed upon hismind forever. D'Artagnan had a great inclination to embark with thetwo travelers, but an interest more powerful than curiosity--that ofsuccess--repelled him from the shore, and brought him back again to thehostelry. He entered with a sigh and went to bed directly in order tobe ready early in the morning with fresh ideas and the sage counsel ofsufficing sleep. 

CHAPTER 68. D'Artagnan continues his Investigations

At daybreak D'Artagnan saddled Furet, who had fared sumptuouslyall night, devouring the remainder of the oats and hay left by hiscompanions. The musketeer sifted all he possibly could out of the host, whom he found cunning, mistrustful, and devoted, body and soul, to M. Fouquet. In order not to awaken the suspicions of this man, he carriedon his fable of being a probable purchaser of some salt-mines. To haveembarked for Belle-Isle at Roche-Bernard would have been to exposehimself still further to comments which had, perhaps, been already made, and would be carried to the castle. Moreover, it was singular that thistraveler and his lackey should have remained a mystery to D'Artagnan, inspite of all the questions addressed by him to the host, who appearedto know him perfectly well. The musketeer then made some inquiriesconcerning the salt-mines, and took the road to the marshes, leavingthe sea on his right, and penetrating into that vast and desolate plainwhich resembles a sea of mud, of which, here and there, a few crestsof salt silver the undulations. Furet walked admirably, with hislittle nervous legs, along the foot-wide causeways which separate thesalt-mines. D'Artagnan, aware of the consequences of a fall, which wouldresult in a cold bath, allowed him to go as he liked, contentinghimself with looking at, on the horizon, three rocks, that rose up likelance-blades from the bosom of the plain, destitute of verdure. Pirial, the bourgs of Batz and Le Croisic, exactly resembling each other, attracted and suspended his attention. If the traveler turned round, thebetter to make his observations, he saw on the other side an horizon ofthree other steeples, Guerande, Le Poulighen, and Saint-Joachim, which, in their circumference, represented a set of skittles, of which he andFuret were but the wandering ball. Pirial was the first little port onhis right. He went thither, with the names of the principal salters onhis lips. At the moment he reached the little port of Pirial, fivelarge barges, laden with stone, were leaving it. It appeared strangeto D'Artagnan, that stones should be leaving a country where none arefound. He had recourse to all the amenity of M. Agnan to learn fromthe people of the port the cause of this singular arrangement. An oldfisherman replied to M. Agnan, that the stones very certainly did notcome from Pirial or the marshes. 

"Where do they come from, then?" asked the musketeer. 

"Monsieur, they come from Nantes and Painboeuf. "

"Where are they going, then?"

"Monsieur, to Belle-Isle. "

"Ah! ah!" said D'Artagnan, in the same tone he had assumed to tellthe printer that his character interested him; "are they building atBelle-Isle, then?"

"Why, yes, monsieur, M. Fouquet has the walls of the castle repairedevery year. "

"Is it in ruins, then?"

"It is old. "

"Thank you. "

"The fact is, " said D'Artagnan to himself, "nothing is more natural;every proprietor has a right to repair his own property. It would belike telling me I was fortifying the Image-de-Notre-Dame, when I wassimply obliged to make repairs. In good truth, I believe false reportshave been made to his majesty, and he is very likely to be in thewrong. "

"You must confess, " continued he then, aloud, and addressing thefisherman--for his part of a suspicious man was imposed upon him by theobject even of his mission--"you must confess, my dear monsieur, thatthese stones travel in a very curious fashion. "

"How so?" said the fisherman

"They come from Nantes or Painboeuf by the Loire, do they not?"

"With the tide. "

"That is convenient, --I don't say it is not, but why do they not gostraight from Saint-Nazaire to Belle-Isle?"

"Eh! because the chalands (barges) are fresh-water boats, and take thesea badly, " replied, the fisherman. 

"That is not sufficient reason. "

"Pardon me, monsieur, one may see that you have never been a sailor, added the fisherman, not without a sort of disdain. 

"Explain that to me, if you please, my good man. It appears to me thatto come from Painboeuf to Pirial, and go from Pirial to Belle-Isle, isas if we went from Roche-Bernard to Nantes, and from Nantes to Pirial. "

"By water that would be the nearest way, " replied the fishermanimperturbably. 

"But there is an elbow?"

The fisherman shook his head. 

"The shortest road from one place to another is a straight line, "continued D'Artagnan. 

"You forget the tide, monsieur. "

"Well! take the tide. "

"And the wind. "

"Well, and the wind. "

"Without doubt, the current of the Loire carries barks almost as far asCroisic. If they want to lie by a little, or to refresh the crew, theycome to Pirial along the coast; from Pirial they find another inversecurrent, which carries them to the Isle-Dumal, two leagues and a half. "

"Granted. "

"There the current of the Vilaine throws them upon another isle, theisle of Hoedic. "

"I agree with that. "

"Well, monsieur, from that isle to Belle-Isle the way is quite straight. The sea broken both above and below, passes like a canal--like a mirrorbetween the two isles; the chalands glide along upon it like ducks uponthe Loire; that's how it is. "

"It does not signify, " said the obstinate M. Agnan; "it is a long wayround. "

"Ah! yes; but M. Fouquet will have it so, " replied, as conclusive, the fisherman, taking off his woolen cap at the enunciation of thatrespected name. 

A look from D'Artagnan, a look as keen and piercing as a sword-blade, found nothing in the heart of the old man but simple confidence--onhis features, nothing but satisfaction and indifference. He said, "M. Fouquet will have it so, " as he would have said, "God has willed it. "

D'Artagnan had already advanced too far in this direction; besides, the chalands being gone, there remained nothing at Pirial but a singlebark--that of the old man, and it did not look fit for sea without greatpreparation. D'Artagnan therefore patted Furet, who as a new proofof his charming character, resumed his march with his feet in thesalt-mines, and his nose to the dry wind, which bends the furze and thebroom of this country. They reached Croisic about five o'clock. 

If D'Artagnan had been a poet, it was a beautiful spectacle: the immensestrand of a league or more, the sea covers at high tide, and which, atthe reflux, appears gray and desolate, strewed with polypi and seaweed, with pebbles sparse and white, like bones in some vast old cemetery. Butthe soldier, the politician, and the ambitious man, had no longer thesweet consolation of looking towards heaven to read there a hope ora warning. A red sky signifies nothing to such people but wind anddisturbance. White and fleecy clouds upon the azure only say that thesea will be smooth and peaceful. D'Artagnan found the sky blue, thebreeze embalmed with saline perfumes, and he said: "I will embark withthe first tide, if it be but in a nutshell. "

At Croisic as at Pirial, he had remarked enormous heaps of stone lyingalong the shore. These gigantic walls, diminished every tide bythe barges for Belle-Isle were, in the eyes of the musketeer, theconsequence and the proof of what he had well divined at Pirial. Was ita wall that M. Fouquet was constructing? Was it a fortification thathe was erecting? To ascertain that he must make fuller observations. D'Artagnan put Furet into a stable; supped, went to bed, and on themorrow took a walk upon the port or rather upon the shingle. Le Croisichas a port of fifty feet, it has a look-out which resembles an enormousbrioche (a kind of cake) elevated on a dish. The flat strand is thedish. Hundreds of barrowsful of earth amalgamated with pebbles, androunded into cones, with sinuous passages between, are look-outs andbrioches at the same time. 

It is so now, and it was so two hundred years ago, only the brioche wasnot so large, and probably there were to be seen no trellises oflath around the brioche, which constitute an ornament, planted likegardes-fous along the passages that wind towards the little terrace. Upon the shingle lounged three or four fishermen talking about sardinesand shrimps. D'Artagnan, with his eyes animated by rough gayety, and asmile upon his lips, approached these fishermen. 

"Any fishing going on to-day?" said he. 

"Yes, monsieur, " replied one of them, "we are only waiting for thetide. "

"Where do you fish, my friends?"

"Upon the coasts, monsieur. "

"Which are the best coasts?"

"Ah, that is all according. The tour of the isles, for example?"

"Yes, but they are a long way off, those isles, are they not?"

"Not very; four leagues. "

"Four leagues! That is a voyage. "

The fisherman laughed in M. Agnan's face. 

"Hear me, then, " said the latter with an air of simple stupidity; fourleagues off you lose sight of land, do you not?"

"Why, not always. "

"Ah, it is a long way--too long, or else I would have asked you to takeme aboard, and to show me what I have never seen. "

"What is that?"

"A live sea-fish. "

"Monsieur comes from the province?" said a fisherman. 

"Yes, I come from Paris. "

The Breton shrugged his shoulders; then:

"Have you ever seen M. Fouquet in Paris?" asked he. 

"Often, " replied D'Artagnan. 

"Often!" repeated the fishermen, closing their circle round theParisian. "Do you know him?"

"A little, he is the intimate friend of my master. "

"Ah!" said the fisherman, in astonishment. 

"And, " said D'Artagnan, "I have seen all his chateaux of Saint-Mande, ofVaux, and his hotel in Paris. "

"Is that a fine place?"

"Superb. "

"It is not so fine a place as Belle-Isle, " said the fisherman. 

"Bah!" cried M. D'Artagnan, breaking into a laugh so loud that heangered all his auditors. 

"It is very plain that you have never seen Belle-Isle, " said the mostcurious of the fishermen. "Do you know that there are six leagues ofit, and that there are such trees on it as cannot be equaled even atNantes-sur-le-Fosse?"

"Trees in the sea!" cried D'Artagnan; "well, I should like to see them. "

"That can be easily done; we are fishing at the Isle de Hoedic--comewith us. From that place you will see, as a Paradise, the black trees ofBelle-Isle against the sky; you will see the white line of the castle, which cuts the horizon of the sea like a blade. "

"Oh, " said D'Artagnan, "that must be very beautiful. But do you knowthere are a hundred belfries at M. Fouquet's chateau of Vaux?"

The Breton raised his head in profound admiration, but he was notconvinced. "A hundred belfries! Ah that may be, but Belle-Isle is finerthan that. Should you like to see Belle-Isle?"

"Is that possible?" asked D'Artagnan. 

"Yes, with permission of the governor. "

"But I do not know the governor. "

"As you know M. Fouquet, you can tell your name. "

"Oh, my friends, I am not a gentleman. "

"Everybody enters Belle-Isle, " continued the fisherman in his strong, pure language, "provided he means no harm to Belle-Isle or its master. "

A slight shudder crept over the body of the musketeer. 

"That is true, " thought he. Then recovering himself, "If I were sure, "said he, "not to be sea-sick. "

"What, upon her?" said the fisherman, pointing with pride to his prettyround-bottomed bark. 

"Well, you almost persuade me, " cried M. Agnan; "I will go and seeBelle-Isle, but they will not admit me. "

"We shall enter, safe enough. "

"You! What for?"

"Why, dame! to sell fish to the corsairs. "

"Ha! Corsairs--what do you mean?"

"Well, I mean that M. Fouquet is having two corsairs built to chase theDutch and the English, and we sell our fish to the crews of those littlevessels. "

"Come, come!" said D'Artagnan to himself--"better and better. Aprinting-press, bastions, and corsairs! Well, M. Fouquet is not anenemy to be despised, as I presumed to fancy. He is worth the trouble oftraveling to see him nearer. "

"We set out at half-past five, " said the fisherman gravely. 

"I am quite ready, and I will not leave you now. " So D'Artagnan saw thefishermen haul their barks to meet the tide with a windlass. The searose, M. Agnan allowed himself to be hoisted on board, not withoutsporting a little fear and awkwardness, to the amusement of the youngbeach-urchins who watched him with their large intelligent eyes. He laidhimself down upon a folded sail, not interfering with anything whilstthe bark prepared for sea; and, with its large, square sail, it wasfairly out within two hours. The fishermen, who prosecuted theiroccupation as they proceeded, did not perceive that their passenger hadnot become pale, neither groaned nor suffered; that in spite of thathorrible tossing and rolling of the bark, to which no hand imparteddirection, the novice passenger had preserved his presence of mind andhis appetite. They fished, and their fishing was sufficiently fortunate. To lines bated with prawn, soles came, with numerous gambols, to bite. Two nets had already been broken by the immense weight of congers andhaddocks; three sea-eels plowed the hold with their slimy folds andtheir dying contortions. D'Artagnan brought them good luck; they toldhim so. The soldier found the occupation so pleasant, that he put hishand to the work--that is to say, to the lines--and uttered roars ofjoy, and mordioux enough to have astonished his musketeers themselvesevery time that a shock given to his line by the captured fish requiredthe play of the muscles of his arm, and the employment of his bestdexterity. The party of pleasure had made him forget his diplomaticmission. He was struggling with a very large conger, and holding fastwith one hand to the side of the vessel, in order to seize with theother the gaping jowl of his antagonist, when the master said to him, "Take care they don't see you from Belle-Isle!"

These words produced the same effect upon D'Artagnan as the hissing ofthe first bullet on a day of battle; he let go of both line and conger, which, dragging each other, returned again to the water. D'Artagnanperceived, within half a league at most, the blue and marked profileof the rocks of Belle-Isle, dominated by the majestic whiteness of thecastle. In the distance, the land with its forests and verdant plains;cattle on the grass. This was what first attracted the attention ofthe musketeer. The sun darted its rays of gold upon the sea, raisinga shining mist round this enchanted isle. Little could be seen of it, owing to this dazzling light, but the salient points; every shadow wasstrongly marked, and cut with bands of darkness the luminous fields andwalls. "Eh! eh!" said D'Artagnan, at the aspect of those masses ofblack rocks, "these are fortifications which do not stand in need of anyengineer to render a landing difficult. How the devil can a landing beeffected on that isle which God has defended so completely?"

"This way, " replied the patron of the bark, changing the sail, andimpressing upon the rudder a twist which turned the boat in thedirection of a pretty little port, quite coquettish, round, and newlybattlemented. 

"What the devil do I see yonder?" said D'Artagnan. 

"You see Leomaria, " replied the fisherman. 

"Well, but there?"

"That is Bragos. "

"And further on?"

"Sanger, and then the palace. "

"Mordioux! It is a world. Ah! there are some soldiers. "

"There are seventeen hundred men in Belle-Isle, monsieur, " replied thefisherman, proudly. "Do you know that the least garrison is of twentycompanies of infantry?"

"Mordioux!" cried D'Artagnan, stamping with his foot. "His Majesty wasright enough. "

They landed. 

CHAPTER 69. In which the Reader, no doubt, will be as astonished asD'Artagnan was to meet an Old Acquaintance

There is always something in a landing, if it be only from the smallestsea-boat--a trouble and a confusion which do not leave the mind theliberty of which it stands in need in order to study at the first glancethe new locality presented to it. The movable bridges, the agitatedsailors, the noise of the water on the pebbles, the cries andimportunities of those who wait upon the shores, are multiplied detailsof that sensation which is summed up in one single result--hesitation. It was not, then, till after standing several minutes on the shore thatD'Artagnan saw upon the port, but more particularly in the interior ofthe isle, an immense number of workmen in motion. At his feet D'Artagnanrecognized the five chalands laden with rough stone he had seen leavethe port of Pirial. The smaller stones were transported to the shoreby means of a chain formed by twenty-five or thirty peasants. The largestones were loaded on trollies which conveyed them in the same directionas the others, that is to say, towards the works of which D'Artagnancould as yet appreciate neither the strength nor the extent. Everywherewas to be seen an activity equal to that which Telemachus observedon his landing at Salentum. D'Artagnan felt a strong inclination topenetrate into the interior; but he could not, under the penalty ofexciting mistrust, exhibit too much curiosity. He advanced then littleby little, scarcely going beyond the line formed by the fishermen on thebeach, observing everything, saying nothing, and meeting all suspicionthat might have been excited with a half-silly question or a polite bow. And yet, whilst his companions carried on their trade, giving or sellingtheir fish to the workmen or the inhabitants of the city, D'Artagnan hadgained ground by degrees, and, reassured by the little attention paid tohim, he began to cast an intelligent and confident look upon the men andthings that appeared before his eyes. And his very first glance fell oncertain movements of earth about which the eye of a soldier could not bemistaken. At the two extremities of the port, in order that their firesshould converge upon the great axis of the ellipsis formed by the basin, in the first place, two batteries had been raised, evidently destinedto receive flank pieces, for D'Artagnan saw the workmen finishing theplatform and making ready the demi-circumference in wood upon whichthe wheels of the pieces might turn to embrace every direction over theepaulement. By the side of each of these batteries other workmen werestrengthening gabions filled with earth, the lining of another battery. The latter had embrasures, and the overseer of the works calledsuccessively men who, with cords, tied the saucissons and cut thelozenges and right angles of turfs destined to retain the matting ofthe embrasures. By the activity displayed in these works, already sofar advanced, they might be considered as finished: they were not yetfurnished with their cannons, but the platforms had their gitesand their madriers all prepared; the earth, beaten carefully, wasconsolidated; and supposing the artillery to be on the island, in lessthan two or three days the port might be completely armed. That whichastonished D'Artagnan, when he turned his eyes from the coast batteriesto the fortifications of the city, was to see that Belle-Isle wasdefended by an entirely new system, of which he had often heard theComte de la Fere speak as a wonderful advance, but of which he had asyet never seen the application. These fortifications belonged neither tothe Dutch method of Marollais, nor to the French method of the ChevalierAntoine de Ville, but to the system of Manesson Mallet, a skillfulengineer, who about six or eight years previously had quitted theservice of Portugal to enter that of France. The works had thispeculiarity, that instead of rising above the earth, as did theancient ramparts destined to defend a city from escalades, they, on thecontrary, sank into it; and what created the height of the walls was thedepth of the ditches. It did not take long to make D'Artagnan perceivethe superiority of such a system, which gives no advantage to cannon. Besides, as the fosses were lower than, or on a level with the sea, these fosses could be instantly inundated by means of subterraneansluices. Otherwise, the works were almost complete, and a group ofworkmen, receiving orders from a man who appeared to be conductor ofthe works, were occupied in placing the last stones. A bridge of planksthrown over the fosses for the greater convenience of the maneuversconnected with the barrows, joined the interior to the exterior. Withan air of simple curiosity D'Artagnan asked if he might be permittedto cross the bridge, and he was told that no order prevented it. Consequently he crossed the bridge, and advanced towards the group. 

This group was superintended by the man whom D'Artagnan had alreadyremarked, and who appeared to be the engineer-in-chief. A plan was lyingopen before him upon a large stone forming a table, and at some pacesfrom him a crane was in action. This engineer, who by his evidentimportance first attracted the attention of D'Artagnan, wore ajustaucorps, which, from its sumptuousness was scarcely in harmony withthe work he was employed in, that rather necessitated the costume of amaster-mason than of a noble. He was a man of immense stature and greatsquare shoulders, and wore a hat covered with feathers. He gesticulatedin the most majestic manner, and appeared, for D'Artagnan only sawhis back, to be scolding the workmen for their idleness and want ofstrength. 

D'Artagnan continued to draw nearer. At that moment the man with thefeathers ceased to gesticulate, and, with his hands placed upon hisknees, was following, half-bent, the effort of six workmen to raise ablock of hewn stone to the top of a piece of timber destined to supportthat stone, so that the cord of the crane might be passed under it. Thesix men, all on one side of the stone, united their efforts to raise itto eight or ten inches from the ground, sweating and blowing, whilst aseventh got ready against there should be daylight enough beneath it toslide in the roller that was to support it. But the stone had alreadytwice escaped from their hands before gaining a sufficient height forthe roller to be introduced. There can be no doubt that every time thestone escaped them, they bounded quickly backwards, to keep theirfeet from being crushed by the refalling stone. Every time, the stone, abandoned by them, sunk deeper into the damp earth, which rendered theoperation more and more difficult. A third effort was followed by nobetter success, but with progressive discouragement. And yet, whenthe six men were bent towards the stone, the man with the feathers hadhimself, with a powerful voice, given the word of command, "Ferme!"which regulates maneuvers of strength. Then he drew himself up. 

"Oh! oh!" said he, "what is all this about? Have I to do with men ofstraw? Corne de boeuf! stand on one side, and you shall see how this isto be done. "

"Peste!" said D'Artagnan, "will he pretend to raise that rock? thatwould be a sight worth looking at. "

The workmen, as commanded by the engineer, drew back with their earsdown, and shaking their heads, with the exception of the one who heldthe plank, who prepared to perform the office. The man with the featherswent up to the stone, stooped, slipped his hands under the face lyingupon the ground, stiffened his Herculean muscles, and without a strain, with a slow motion, like that of a machine, he lifted the end of therock a foot from the ground. The workman who held the plank profited bythe space thus given him, and slipped the roller under the stone. 

"That's the way, " said the giant, not letting the rock fall again, butplacing it upon its support. 

"Mordioux!" cried D'Artagnan, "I know but one man capable of such a featof strength. "

"Hein!" cried the colossus, turning round. 

"Porthos!" murmured D'Artagnan, seized with stupor, "Porthos atBelle-Isle!"

On his part, the man with the feathers fixed his eyes upon the disguisedlieutenant, and, in spite of his metamorphosis, recognized him. "D'Artagnan!" cried he; and the color mounted to his face. "Hush!" saidhe to D'Artagnan. 

"Hush!" in his turn, said the musketeer. In fact if Porthos had justbeen discovered by D'Artagnan, D'Artagnan had just been discovered byPorthos. The interest of the particular secret of each struck them bothat the same instant. Nevertheless the first movement of the two men wasto throw their arms around each other. What they wished to conceal fromthe bystanders, was not their friendship, but their names. But, afterthe embrace, came reflection. 

"What the devil brings Porthos to Belle-Isle, lifting stones?" saidD'Artagnan; only D'Artagnan uttered that question in a low voice. Lessstrong in diplomacy than his friend, Porthos thought aloud. 

"How the devil did you come to Belle-Isle?" asked he of D'Artagnan;"and what do you want to do here?" It was necessary to reply withouthesitation. To hesitate in his answer to Porthos would have been acheck, for which the self-love of D'Artagnan would never have consoleditself. 

"Pardieu! my friend, I am at Belle-Isle because you are. "

"Ah, bah!" said Porthos, visibly stupefied with the argument, andseeking to account for it to himself, with the felicity of deduction weknow to be peculiar to him. 

"Without doubt, " continued D'Artagnan, unwilling to give his friend timeto recollect himself, "I have been to see you at Pierrefonds. "

"Indeed!"

"Yes. "

"And you did not find me there?"

"No, but I found Mouston. "

"Is he well?"

"Peste!"

"Well, but Mouston did not tell you I was here. "

"Why should he not Have I, perchance, deserved to lose his confidence?"

"No, but he did not know it. "

"Well; that is a reason at least that does not offend my self-love. "

"Then how did you manage to find me?"

"My dear friend, a great noble like you always leaves traces behind himon his passage; and I should think but poorly of myself, if I were notsharp enough to follow the traces of my friends. " This explanation, flattering as it was, did not entirely satisfy Porthos. 

"But I left no traces behind me, for I came here disguised, " saidPorthos. 

"Ah! You came disguised did you?" said D'Artagnan. 

"Yes. "

"And how?"

"As a miller. "

"And do you think a great noble, like you, Porthos, can affect commonmanners so as to deceive people?"

"Well, I swear to you, my friend, that I played my part so well thateverybody was deceived. "

"Indeed! so well, that I have not discovered and joined you?"

"Yes; but how did you discover and join me?"

"Stop a bit. I was going to tell you how. Do you imagine Mouston----"

"Ah! it was that fellow, Mouston, " said Porthos, gathering up those twotriumphant arches which served him for eyebrows. 

"But stop, I tell you--it was no fault of Mouston's because he wasignorant of where you were. "

"I know he was; and that is why I am in such haste to understand----"

"Oh! how impatient you are, Porthos. "

"When I do not comprehend, I am terrible. "

"Well, you will understand. Aramis wrote to you at Pierrefonds, did henot?"

"Yes. "

"And he told you to come before the equinox. "

"That is true. "

"Well! that is it, " said D'Artagnan, hoping that this reason wouldmystify Porthos. Porthos appeared to give himself up to a violent mentallabor. 

"Yes, yes, " said he, "I understand. As Aramis told me to come beforethe equinox, you have understood that that was to join him. You theninquired where Aramis was, saying to yourself, 'Where Aramis is, therePorthos will be. ' You have learnt that Aramis was in Bretagne, and yousaid to yourself, 'Porthos is in Bretagne. '"

"Exactly. In good truth, Porthos I cannot tell why you have not turnedconjurer. So you understand that arriving at Roche-Bernard, I heard ofthe splendid fortifications going on at Belle-Isle. The account raisedmy curiosity, I embarked in a fishing boat, without dreaming that youwere here: I came, and I saw a monstrous fine fellow lifting a stoneAjax could not have stirred. I cried out, 'Nobody but the Baron deBracieux could have performed such a feat of strength. ' You heard me, you turned round, you recognized me, we embraced; and, ma foi! if youlike, my dear friend, we will embrace again. "

"Ah! now all is explained, " said Porthos; and he embraced D'Artagnanwith so much friendship as to deprive the musketeer of his breath forfive minutes. 

"Why, you are stronger than ever, " said D'Artagnan, "and still, happily, in your arms. " Porthos saluted D'Artagnan with a gracious smile. Duringthe five minutes D'Artagnan was recovering his breath, he reflected thathe had a very difficult part to play. It was necessary that he alwaysshould question and never reply. By the time his respiration returned, he had fixed his plans for the campaign. 

CHAPTER 70. Wherein the Ideas of D'Artagnan, at first strangely clouded, begin to clear up a little. 

D'Artagnan immediately took the offensive. "Now that I have told you all, dear friend, or rather now you have guessed all, tell me what you aredoing here, covered with dust and mud?"

Porthos wiped his brow, and looked around him with pride. "Why, itappears, " said he, "that you may see what I am doing here. "

"No doubt, no doubt, you lift great stones. "

"Oh! to show these idle fellows what a man is, " said Porthos, withcontempt. "But you understand----"

"Yes, that it is not your place to lift stones, although there are manywhose place it is, who cannot lift them as you do. It was that whichmade me ask you, just now, What are you doing here, baron?"

"I am studying topography, chevalier. "

"You are studying topography?"

"Yes; but you--what are you doing in that common dress?"

D'Artagnan perceived he had committed a fault in giving expression tohis astonishment. Porthos had taken advantage of it, to retort with aquestion. "Why, " said he, "you know I am a bourgeois, in fact; mydress, then, has nothing astonishing in it, since it conforms with mycondition. "

"Nonsense! you are a musketeer. "

"You are wrong, my friend; I have given in my resignation. "

"Bah!"

"Oh, mon Dieu! yes. "

"And have you abandoned the service?"

"I have quitted it. "

"You have abandoned the king?"

"Quite. "

Porthos raised his arms towards heaven, like a man who has heardextraordinary news. "Well, that does confound me, " said he. 

"It is nevertheless true. "

"And what led you to form such a resolution?"

"The king displeased me. Mazarin had disgusted me for a long time, asyou know; so I threw my cassock to the nettles. "

"But Mazarin is dead. "

"I know that well enough, parbleu! Only, at the period of his death, my resignation had been given in and accepted two months. Then, feelingmyself free, I set off for Pierrefonds, to see my friend Porthos. Ihad heard talk of the happy division you had made of your time, and Iwished, for a fortnight, to divide mine after your fashion. "

"My friend, you know that it is not for a fortnight my house is open toyou; it is for a year--for ten years--for life. "

"Thank you, Porthos. "

"Ah! but perhaps you want money--do you?" said Porthos, making somethinglike fifty louis chink in his pocket. "In that case, you know----"

"No, thank you, I am not in want of anything. I placed my savings withPlanchet, who pays me the interest of them. "

"Your savings?"

"Yes, to be sure, " said D'Artagnan: "why should I not put by my savings, as well as another, Porthos?"

"Oh, there is no reason why; on the contrary, I always suspectedyou--that is to say, Aramis always suspected you to have savings. Formy own part, d'ye see, I take no concern about the management of myhousehold; but I presume the savings of a musketeer must be small. "

"No doubt, relative to yourself, Porthos, who are a millionaire; but youshall judge. I had laid by twenty-five thousand livres. "

"That's pretty well, " said Porthos, with an affable air. 

"And, " continued D'Artagnan, "on the twenty-eighth of last month I addedto it two hundred thousand livres more. "

Porthos opened his large eyes, which eloquently demanded of themusketeer, "Where the devil did you steal such a sum as that, my dearfriend?" "Two hundred thousand livres!" cried he, at length. 

"Yes; which, with the twenty-five I had, and twenty thousand I haveabout me, complete the sum of two hundred and forty-five thousandlivres. "

"But tell me, whence comes this fortune?"

"I will tell you all about it presently, dear friend; but as you have, in the first place, many things to tell me yourself, let us have myrecital in its proper order. "

"Bravo!" said Porthos, "then we are both rich. But what can I have torelate to you?"

"You have to relate to me how Aramis came to be named----"

"Ah! bishop of Vannes. "

"That's it, " said D'Artagnan, "bishop of Vannes. Dear Aramis! do youknow how he succeeded so well?"

"Yes, yes; without reckoning that he does not mean to stop there. "

"What! do you mean he will not be contented with violet stockings, andthat he wants a red hat?"

"Hush! that is promised him. "

"Bah! by the king?"

"By somebody more powerful than the king. "

"Ah! the devil! Porthos: what incredible things you tell me, my friend!"

"Why incredible? Is there not always somebody in France more powerfulthan the king?"

"Oh, yes; in the time of King Louis XIII. It was Cardinal Richelieu; inthe time of the Regency it was Cardinal Mazarin. In the time of LouisXIV. It is M. ----"

"Go on. "

"It is M. Fouquet. "

"Jove! you have hit it the first time. "

"So, then, I suppose it is M. Fouquet who has promised Aramis the redhat?"

Porthos assumed an air of reserve. "Dear friend, " said he, "God preserveme from meddling with the affairs of others, above all from revealingsecrets it may be to their interest to keep. When you see Aramis, hewill tell you all he thinks he ought to tell you. "

"You are right, Porthos; and you are quite a padlock for safety. But, torevert to yourself?"

"Yes, " said Porthos. 

"You said just now you came hither to study topography?"

"I did so. "

"Tudieu! my friend, what fine things you will do!"

"How do you mean?"

"Why, these fortifications are admirable. "

"Is that your opinion?"

"Decidedly it is. In truth, to anything but a regular siege, Belle-Isleis absolutely impregnable. "

Porthos rubbed his hands. "That is my opinion, " said he. 

"But who the devil has fortified this paltry little place in thismanner?"

Porthos drew himself up proudly: "Did not I tell you who?"

"No. "

"Do you not suspect?"

"No; all I can say is that he is a man who has studied all the systems, and who appears to me to have stopped at the best. "

"Hush!" said Porthos; "consider my modesty, my dear D'Artagnan. "

"In truth, " replied the musketeer, "can it be you--who--oh!"

"Pray--my dear friend----"

"You who have imagined, traced, and combined between these bastions, these redans, these curtains, these half-moons; and are preparing thatcovered way?"

"I beg you----"

"You who have built that lunette with its retiring angles and itssalient angles?"

"My friend----"

"You who have given that inclination to the openings of your embrasures, by means of which you so effectively protect the men who serve theguns?"

"Eh! mon Dieu! yes. "

"Oh! Porthos, Porthos! I must bow down before you--I must admire you!But you have always concealed from us this superb, this incomparablegenius. I hope, my dear friend, you will show me all this in detail. "

"Nothing more easy. Here lies my original sketch, my plan. "

"Show it me. " Porthos led D'Artagnan towards the stone that served himfor a table, and upon which the plan was spread. At the foot of the planwas written, in the formidable writing of Porthos, writing of which wehave already had occasion to speak:--

"Instead of making use of the square or rectangle, as has been done tothis time, you will suppose your place inclosed in a regular hexagon, this polygon having the advantage of offering more angles than thequadrilateral one. Every side of your hexagon, of which you willdetermine the length in proportion to the dimensions taken upon theplace, will be divided into two parts and upon the middle point you willelevate a perpendicular towards the center of the polygon, which willequal in length the sixth part of the side. By the extremities of eachside of the polygon, you will trace two diagonals, which will cut theperpendicular. These will form the precise lines of your defense. "

"The devil!" said D'Artagnan, stopping at this point of thedemonstration; "why, this is a complete system, Porthos. "

"Entirely, " said Porthos. "Continue. "

"No; I have read enough of it; but, since it is you, my dear Porthos, who direct the works, what need have you of setting down your system soformally in writing?"

"Oh! my dear friend, death!"

"How! death?"

"Why, we are all mortal, are we not?"

"That is true, " said D'Artagnan; "you have a reply for everything, myfriend. " And he replaced the plan upon the stone. 

But however short the time he had the plan in his hands, D'Artagnan hadbeen able to distinguish, under the enormous writing of Porthos, amuch more delicate hand, which reminded him of certain letters toMarie Michon, with which he had been acquainted in his youth. Only theIndia-rubber had passed and repassed so often over this writing that itmight have escaped a less practiced eye than that of our musketeer. 

"Bravo! my friend, bravo!" said D'Artagnan. 

"And now you know all that you want to know, do you not?" said Porthos, wheeling about. 

"Mordioux! yes, only do me one last favor, dear friend!"

"Speak, I am master here. "

"Do me the pleasure to tell me the name of that gentleman who is walkingyonder. "

"Where, there?"

"Behind the soldiers. "

"Followed by a lackey?"

"Exactly. "

"In company with a mean sort of a fellow, dressed in black?"

"Yes, I mean him. "

"That is M. Getard. "

"And who is Getard, my friend?"

"He is the architect of the house. "

"Of what house?"

"Of M. Fouquet's house. "

"Ah! ah!" cried D'Artagnan, "you are of the household of M. Fouquet, then, Porthos?"

"I! what do you mean by that?" said the topographer, blushing to the topof his ears. 

"Why, you say the house, when speaking of Belle-Isle, as if you werespeaking of the chateau of Pierrefonds. "

Porthos bit his lips. "Belle-Isle, my friend, " said he, "belongs to M. Fouquet, does it not?"

"Yes, I believe so. "

"As Pierrefonds belongs to me?"

"I told you I believed so; there are no two words to that. "

"Did you ever see a man there who is accustomed to walk about with aruler in his hand?"

"No; but I might have seen him there, if he really walked there. "

"Well, that gentleman is M. Boulingrin. "

"Who is M. Boulingrin?"

"Now, we are coming to it. If, when this gentleman is walking with aruler in his hand, any one should ask me, --'Who is M. Boulingrin?' Ishould reply: 'He is the architect of the house. ' Well! M. Getard isthe Boulingrin of M. Fouquet. But he has nothing to do with thefortifications, which are my department alone; do you understand? mine, absolutely mine. "

"Ah! Porthos, " cried D'Artagnan, letting his arms fall as a conqueredman gives up his sword; "ah! my friend, you are not only a herculeantopographer, you are, still further, a dialectician of the first water. "

"Is it not powerfully reasoned?" said Porthos: and he puffed and blewlike the conger which D'Artagnan had let slip from his hand. 

"And now, " said D'Artagnan, "that shabby-looking man, who accompanies M. Getard, is he also of the household of M. Fouquet?"

"Oh! yes, " said Porthos, with contempt; "it is one M. Jupenet, orJuponet, a sort of poet. "

"Who is come to establish himself here?"

"I believe so. "

"I thought M. Fouquet had poets enough, yonder--Scudery, Loret, Pellisson, La Fontaine? If I must tell you the truth, Porthos, that poetdisgraces you. "

"Eh!--my friend; but what saves us is that he is not here as a poet. "

"As what, then, is he?"

"As printer. And you make me remember, I have a word to say to thecuistre. "

"Say it, then. "

Porthos made a sign to Jupenet, who perfectly recollected D'Artagnan, and did not care to come nearer; which naturally produced another signfrom Porthos. This was so imperative, he was obliged to obey. As heapproached, "Come hither!" said Porthos. "You only landed yesterday andyou have begun your tricks already. "

"How so, monsieur le baron?" asked Jupenet, trembling. 

"Your press was groaning all night, monsieur, " said Porthos, "and youprevented my sleeping, corne de boeuf!"

"Monsieur----" objected Jupenet, timidly. 

"You have nothing yet to print: therefore you have no occasion to setyour press going. What did you print last night?"

"Monsieur, a light poem of my own composition. "

"Light! no, no, monsieur; the press groaned pitifully beneath it. Let itnot happen again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, monsieur. "

"You promise me?"

"I do, monsieur!"

"Very well; this time I pardon you. Adieu!"

"Well, now we have combed that fellow's head, let us breakfast. "

"Yes, " replied D'Artagnan, "let us breakfast. "

"Only, " said Porthos, "I beg you to observe, my friend, that we haveonly two hours for our repast. "

"What would you have? We will try to make two hours suffice. But whyhave you only two hours?"

"Because it is high tide at one o'clock, and, with the tide, I am goingto Vannes. But, as I shall return tomorrow, my dear friend, you can stayhere; you shall be master, I have a good cook and a good cellar. "

"No, " interrupted D'Artagnan, "better than that. "

"What?"

"You are going to Vannes, you say?"

"To a certainty. "

"To see Aramis?"

"Yes. "

"Well! I came from Paris on purpose to see Aramis. "

"That's true. "

"I will go with you then. "

"Do; that's the thing. "

"Only, I ought to have seen Aramis first, and you after. But manproposes, and God disposes. I have begun with you, and will finish withAramis. "

"Very well!"

"And in how many hours can you go from here to Vannes?"

"Oh! pardieu! in six hours. Three hours by sea to Sarzeau, three hoursby road from Sarzeau to Vannes. "

"How convenient that is! Being so near to the bishopric; do you often goto Vannes?"

"Yes; once a week. But, stop till I get my plan. "

Porthos picked up his plan, folded it carefully, and engulfed it in hislarge pocket. 

"Good!" said D'Artagnan aside; "I think I now know the real engineer whois fortifying Belle-Isle. "

Two hours after, at high tide, Porthos and D'Artagnan set out forSarzeau. 

CHAPTER 71. A Procession at Vannes

The passage from Belle-Isle to Sarzeau was made rapidly enough, thanksto one of those little corsairs of which D'Artagnan had been told duringhis voyage, and which, shaped for fast sailing and destined for thechase, were sheltered at that time in the roadstead of Loc-Maria, whereone of them, with a quarter of its war-crew, performed duty betweenBelle-Isle and the continent. D'Artagnan had an opportunity ofconvincing himself that Porthos, though engineer and topographer, wasnot deeply versed in affairs of state. His perfect ignorance, with anyother, might have passed for well-informed dissimulation. But D'Artagnanknew too well all the folds and refolds of his Porthos, not to finda secret if there were one there; like those regular, minute oldbachelors, who know how to find, with their eyes shut, each book on theshelves of their library and each piece of linen in their wardrobe. So if he had found nothing, our cunning D'Artagnan, in rolling andunrolling his Porthos, it was because, in truth, there was nothing to befound. 

"Be it so, " said D'Artagnan, "I shall get to know more at Vannes in halfan hour than Porthos has discovered at Belle-Isle in two months. Only, in order that I may know something, it is important that Porthos shouldnot make use of the only stratagem I leave at his disposal. He must notwarn Aramis of my arrival. " All the care of the musketeer was then, forthe moment, confined to the watching of Porthos. And let us hasten tosay, Porthos did not deserve all this mistrust. Porthos thought of noevil. Perhaps, on first seeing him, D'Artagnan had inspired him with alittle suspicion, but almost immediately D'Artagnan had reconquered inthat good and brave heart the place he had always occupied, and not theleast cloud darkened the large eye of Porthos, fixed from time to timewith tenderness on his friend. 

On landing, Porthos inquired if his horses were waiting, and soonperceived them at the crossing of the road that winds round Sarzeau, andwhich, without passing through that little city, leads towards Vannes. These horses were two in number, one for M. De Vallon, and one for hisequerry; for Porthos had an equerry since Mouston was only able to usea carriage as a means of locomotion. D'Artagnan expected that Porthoswould propose to send forward his equerry upon one horse to bringback another, and he--D'Artagnan--had made up his mind to oppose thisproposition. But nothing D'Artagnan had expected happened. Porthossimply told the equerry to dismount and await his return at Sarzeau, whilst D'Artagnan would ride his horse; which was arranged. 

"Eh! but you are quite a man of precaution, my dear Porthos, " saidD'Artagnan to his friend, when he found himself in the saddle, upon theequerry's horse. 

"Yes, but this is a kindness on the part of Aramis. I have not my studhere, and Aramis has placed his stables at my disposal. "

"Good horses for bishop's horses, mordioux!" said D'Artagnan. "It istrue, Aramis is a bishop of a peculiar kind. "

"He is a holy man!" replied Porthos, in a tone almost nasal, and withhis eyes raised towards heaven. 

"Then he is much changed, " said D'Artagnan; "you and I have known himpassably profane. "

"Grace has touched him, " said Porthos. 

"Bravo, " said D'Artagnan, "that redoubles my desire to see my dear oldfriend. " And he spurred his horse, which sprang off into a more rapidpace. 

"Peste!" said Porthos, "if we go on at this rate, we shall only take onehour instead of two. "

"To go how far, do you say, Porthos?"

"Four leagues and a half. "

"That will be a good pace. "

"I could have embarked you on the canal, but the devil take rowers andboat-horses! The first are like tortoises; the second like snails; andwhen a man is able to put a good horse between his knees, that horse isbetter than rowers or any other means. "

"You are right; you above all, Porthos, who always look magnificent onhorseback. "

"Rather heavy, my friend; I was weighed the other day. "

"And what do you weigh?"

"Three hundred-weight!" said Porthos, proudly. 

"Bravo!"

"So that you must perceive, I am forced to choose horses whose loins arestraight and wide, otherwise I break them down in two hours. "

"Yes, giant's horses you must have, must you not?"

"You are very polite, my friend, " replied the engineer, withaffectionate majesty. 

"As a case in point, " replied D'Artagnan, "your horse seems to sweatalready. "

"Dame! It is hot! Ah, ah! do you see Vannes now?"

"Yes, perfectly. It is a handsome city, apparently. "

"Charming, according to Aramis, at least, but I think it black; butblack seems to be considered handsome by artists: I am sorry for it. "

"Why so, Porthos?"

"Because I have lately had my chateau of Pierrefonds which was gray withage, plastered white. "

"Humph!" said D'Artagnan, "and white is more cheerful. "

"Yes, but it is less august, as Aramis tells me. Fortunately there aredealers in black as well as white. I will have Pierrefonds replasteredin black; that's all there is about it. If gray is handsome, youunderstand, my friend, black must be superb. "

"Dame!" said D'Artagnan, "that appears logical. "

"Were you never at Vannes, D'Artagnan?"

"Never. "

"Then you know nothing of the city?"

"Nothing. "

"Well, look!" said Porthos, raising himself in his stirrups, which madethe fore-quarters of his horse bend sadly--"do you see that corner, inthe sun, yonder?"

"Yes, I see it plainly. "

"Well, that is the cathedral. "

"Which is called?"

"Saint-Pierre. Now look again--in the faubourg on the left, do you seeanother cross?"

"Perfectly well. "

"That is Saint-Paterne, the parish preferred by Aramis. "

"Indeed!"

"Without doubt. Saint-Paterne, you see, passes for having been the firstbishop of Vannes. It is true that Aramis pretends he was not. But he isso learned that that may be only a paro--a para---"

"A paradox, " said D'Artagnan. 

"Precisely; thank you! my tongue trips, I am so hot. "

"My friend, " said D'Artagnan, "continue your interesting description, Ibeg. What is that large white building with many windows?"

"Oh! that is the college of the Jesuits. Pardieu! you have an apt hand. Do you see, close to the college, a large house with steeples, turrets, built in a handsome Gothic style, as that fool, M. Getard, says?"

"Yes, that is plainly to be seen. Well?"

"Well, that is where Aramis resides. "

"What! does he not reside at the episcopal palace?"

"No, that is in ruins. The palace likewise is in the city, and Aramisprefers the faubourgs. That is why, as I told you, he is partial toSaint-Paterne; Saint-Paterne is in the faubourg. Besides, there are inthis faubourg a mall, a tennis-court, and a house of Dominicans. Look, that where the handsome steeple rises to the heavens. "

"Well?"

"Next, you see the faubourg is like a separate city, it has its walls, its towers, its ditches; the quay is upon it likewise, and the boatsland at the quay. If our little corsair did not draw eight feet ofwater, we could have come full sail up to Aramis's windows. "

"Porthos, Porthos, " cried D'Artagnan, "you are a well of knowledge, aspring of ingenious and profound reflections. Porthos, you no longersurprise me, you confound me. "

"Here we are, " said Porthos, turning the conversation with his usualmodesty. 

"And high time we were, " thought D'Artagnan, "for Aramis's horse ismelting away like a steed of ice. "

They entered almost at the same instant the faubourg; but scarcely hadthey gone a hundred paces when they were surprised to find the streetsstrewed with leaves and flowers. Against the old walls of Vannes hungthe oldest and the strangest tapestries of France. From over balconiesfell long white sheets stuck all over with bouquets. The streets weredeserted; it was plain the entire population was assembled on one point. The blinds were closed, and the breeze penetrated into the houses underthe hangings, which cast long, black shades between their places ofissue and the walls. Suddenly, at the turning of a street, chantsstruck the ears of the newly arrived travelers. A crowd in holiday garbappeared through the vapors of incense which mounted to the heavens inblue fleeces, and clouds of rose-leaves fluttered as high as the firststories. Above all heads were to be seen the cross and banners, thesacred symbols of religion. Then, beneath these crosses and banners, as if protected by them, walked a whole world of young girls clothedin white, crowned with corn-flowers. At the two sides of the street, inclosing the cortege, marched the guards of the garrison, carryingbouquets in the barrels of their muskets and on the points of theirlances. This was the procession. 

Whilst D'Artagnan and Porthos were looking on with critical glances, which disguised an extreme impatience to get forward, a magnificent daisapproached preceded by a hundred Jesuits and a hundred Dominicans, andescorted by two archdeacons, a treasurer, a penitent and twelve canons. A singer with a thundering voice--a man certainly picked out from allthe voices of France, as was the drum-major of the imperial guard fromall the giants of the empire--escorted by four other chanters, whoappeared to be there only to serve him as an accompaniment, made the airresound, and the windows of the houses vibrate. Under the dais appeareda pale and noble countenance with black eyes, black hair streaked withthreads of white, a delicate, compressed mouth, a prominent and angularchin. His head, full of graceful majesty, was covered with the episcopalmitre, a headdress which gave it, in addition to the character ofsovereignty, that of asceticism and evangelic meditation. 

"Aramis!" cried the musketeer, involuntarily, as this lofty countenancepassed before him. The prelate started at the sound of the voice. Heraised his large black eyes, with their long lashes, and turned themwithout hesitation towards the spot whence the exclamation proceeded. At a glance, he saw Porthos and D'Artagnan close to him. On his part, D'Artagnan, thanks to the keenness of his sight, had seen all, seizedall. The full portrait of the prelate had entered his memory, never toleave it. One thing had particularly struck D'Artagnan. On perceivinghim, Aramis had colored, then he had concentrated under his eyelids thefire of the look of the master, and the indefinable affection ofthe friend. It was evident that Aramis had asked himself thisquestion:--"Why is D'Artagnan with Porthos, and what does he wantat Vannes?" Aramis comprehended all that was passing in the mind ofD'Artagnan, on turning his look upon him again, and seeing that he hadnot lowered his eyes. He knew the acuteness and intelligence of hisfriend, he feared to let him divine the secret of his blush and hisastonishment. He was still the same Aramis, always having a secret toconceal. Therefore, to put an end to his look of an inquisitor which itwas necessary to get rid of at all events, as, at any price, a generalextinguishes a battery which annoys him, Aramis stretched forth hisbeautiful white hand, upon which sparkled the amethyst of the pastoralring; he cut the air with sign of the cross, and poured out hisbenediction upon his two friends. Perhaps thoughtful and absent, D'Artagnan, impious in spite of himself, might not have bent beneaththis holy benediction; but Porthos saw his distraction, and layinghis friendly hand upon the back of his companion, he crushed him downtowards the earth. D'Artagnan was forced to give way; indeed, he waslittle short of being flat on the ground. In the meantime Aramis hadpassed. D'Artagnan, like Antaeus, had only touched the ground, and heturned towards Porthos, almost angry. But there was no mistaking theintention of the brave Hercules; it was a feeling of religious proprietythat had influenced him. Besides, speech with Porthos, instead ofdisguising his thought, always completed it. 

"It is very polite of him, " said he, "to have given his benediction tous alone. Decidedly, he is a holy man, and a brave man. " Less convincedthan Porthos, D'Artagnan made no reply. 

"Observe, my friend, " continued Porthos, "he has seen us; and, insteadof continuing to walk on at the simple pace of the procession, as hedid just now, --see, what a hurry he is in; do you see how the cortegeis increasing its speed? He is eager to join us and embrace us, is thatdear Aramis. "

"That is true, " replied D'Artagnan, aloud. --Then to himself:--"It isequally true he has seen me, the fox, and will have time to preparehimself to receive me. "

But the procession had passed; the road was free. D'Artagnan and Porthoswalked straight up to the episcopal palace, which was surrounded by anumerous crowd anxious to see the prelate return. D'Artagnan remarkedthat this crowd was composed principally of citizens and militarymen. He recognized in the nature of these partisans the address of hisfriend. Aramis was not the man to seek for a useless popularity. Hecared very little for being beloved by people who could be of no serviceto him. Women, children, and old men, that is to say, the cortege ofordinary pastors, was not the cortege for him. 

Ten minutes after the two friends had passed the threshold of thepalace, Aramis returned like a triumphant conqueror; the soldierspresented arms to him as to a superior; the citizens bowed to him as toa friend and a patron, rather than as a head of the Church. There wassomething in Aramis resembling those Roman senators who had theirdoors always surrounded by clients. At the foot of the prison, he had aconference of half a minute with a Jesuit, who, in order to speak to himmore secretly, passed his head under the dais. He then re-entered hispalace; the doors closed slowly, and the crowd melted away, whilstchants and prayers were still resounding abroad. It was a magnificentday. Earthly perfumes were mingled with the perfumes of the air and thesea. The city breathed happiness, joy, and strength. D'Artagnanfelt something like the presence of an invisible hand which had, all-powerfully, created this strength, this joy, this happiness, andspread everywhere these perfumes. 

"Oh! oh!" said he, "Porthos has got fat; but Aramis is grown taller. "

CHAPTER 72. The Grandeur of the Bishop of Vannes

Porthos and D'Artagnan had entered the bishop's residence by a privatedoor, as his personal friends. Of course, Porthos served D'Artagnan asguide. The worthy baron comported himself everywhere rather as if hewere at home. Nevertheless, whether it was a tacit acknowledgment of thesanctity of the personage of Aramis and his character, or the habit ofrespecting him who imposed upon him morally, a worthy habit which hadalways made Porthos a model soldier and an excellent companion; for allthese reasons, say we, Porthos preserved in the palace of His Greatnessthe Bishop of Vannes a sort of reserve which D'Artagnan remarked atonce, in the attitude he took with respect to the valets and officers. And yet this reserve did not go so far as to prevent his askingquestions. Porthos questioned. They learned that His Greatness hadjust returned to his apartment and was preparing to appear in familiarintimacy, less majestic than he had appeared with his flock. Aftera quarter of an hour, which D'Artagnan and Porthos passed in lookingmutually at each other with the white of their eyes, and turning theirthumbs in all the different evolutions which go from north to south, adoor of the chamber opened and His Greatness appeared, dressed in theundress, complete, of a prelate. Aramis carried his head high, like aman accustomed to command: his violet robe was tucked up on one side, and his white hand was on his hip. He had retained the fine mustache, and the lengthened royale of the time of Louis XIII. He exhaled, onentering, that delicate perfume which, among elegant men and womenof high fashion, never changes, and appears to be incorporated in theperson, of whom it has become the natural emanation. In this caseonly, the perfume had retained something of the religious sublimity ofincense. It no longer intoxicated, it penetrated; it no longer inspireddesire, it inspired respect. Aramis, on entering the chamber did nothesitate an instant; and without pronouncing one word, which, whateverit might be, would have been cold on such an occasion, he went straightup to the musketeer, so well disguised under the costume of M. Agnan, and pressed him in his arms with a tenderness which the most distrustfulcould not have suspected of coldness or affectation. 

D'Artagnan, on his part, embraced him with equal ardor. Porthos pressedthe delicate hand of Aramis in his immense hands, and D'Artagnanremarked that His Greatness gave him his left hand, probably from habit, seeing that Porthos already ten times had been near injuring his fingerscovered with rings, by pounding his flesh in the vise of his fist. Warned by the pain, Aramis was cautious, and only presented flesh to bebruised, and not fingers to be crushed, against gold or the angles ofdiamonds. 

Between two embraces, Aramis looked D'Artagnan in the face, offered hima chair, sitting down himself in the shade, observing that the lightfell full upon the face of his interlocutor. This maneuver, familiar todiplomatists and women, resembles much the advantage of the guard which, according to their skill or habit, combatants endeavor to take on theground at a duel. D'Artagnan was not the dupe of this maneuver, but hedid not appear to perceive it. He felt himself caught; but, precisely, because he was caught he felt himself on the road to discovery, andit little imported to him, old condottiere as he was, to be beaten inappearance, provided he drew from his pretended defeat the advantages ofvictory. Aramis began the conversation. 

"Ah! dear friend! my good D'Artagnan, " said he, "what an excellentchance!"

"It is a chance, my reverend companion, " said D'Artagnan, "that I willcall friendship. I seek you, as I always have sought you, when I hadany grand enterprise to propose to you, or some hours of liberty to giveyou. "

"Ah! indeed, " said Aramis, without explosion, "you have been seekingme?"

"Eh! yes, he has been seeking you, Aramis, " said Porthos, "and the proofis that he has unharbored me at Belle-Isle. That is amiable, is it not?"

"Ah! yes, " said Aramis, "at Belle-Isle! certainly!"

"Good!" said D'Artagnan; "there is my booby Porthos, without thinking ofit, has fired the first cannon of attack. "

"At Belle-Isle!" said Aramis, "in that hole, in that desert! That iskind, indeed!"

"And it was I who told him you were at Vannes, " continued Porthos, inthe same tone. 

D'Artagnan armed his mouth with a finesse almost ironical. 

"Yes, I knew, but I was willing to see, " replied he. 

"To see what?"

"If our old friendship still held out, if, on seeing each other, ourhearts, hardened as they are by age, would still let the old cry of joyescape, which salutes the coming of a friend. "

"Well, and you must have been satisfied, " said Aramis. 

"So, so. "

"How is that?"

"Yes, Porthos said hush! and you----"

"Well! and I?"

"And you gave me your benediction. "

"What would you have, my friend?" said Aramis, smiling; "that is themost precious thing that a poor prelate, like me, has to give. "

"Indeed, my dear friend!"

"Doubtless. "

"And yet they say at Paris that the bishopric of Vannes is one of thebest in France. "

"Ah! you are now speaking of temporal wealth, " said Aramis, with acareless air. 

"To be sure, I wish to speak of that; I hold by it, on my part. "

"In that case, let me speak of it, " said Aramis, with a smile. 

"You own yourself to be one of the richest prelates in France?"

"My friend, since you ask me to give you an account, I will tell youthat the bishopric of Vannes is worth about twenty thousand livres ayear, neither more nor less. It is a diocese which contains a hundredand sixty parishes. "

"That is very pretty, " said D'Artagnan. 

"It is superb!" said Porthos. 

"And yet, " resumed D'Artagnan, throwing his eyes over Aramis, "you don'tmean to bury yourself here forever?"

"Pardon me. Only I do not admit the word bury. "

"But it seems to me, that at this distance from Paris a man is buried, or nearly so. "

"My friend, I am getting old, " said Aramis; "the noise and bustle ofa city no longer suit me. At fifty-seven we ought to seek calm andmeditation. I have found them here. What is there more beautiful, and stern at the same time, than this old Armorica. I find here, dearD'Artagnan, all that is opposite to what I formerly loved, and that iswhat must happen at the end of life, which is opposite to the beginning. A little of my odd pleasure of former times still comes to salute mehere, now and then, without diverting me from the road of salvation. Iam still of this world, and yet every step that I take brings me nearerto God. "

"Eloquent, wise and discreet; you are an accomplished prelate, Aramis, and I offer you my congratulations. "

"But, " said Aramis, smiling, "you did not come here only for the purposeof paying me compliments. Speak; what brings you hither! May it be that, in some fashion or other, you want me?"

"Thank God, no, my friend, " said D'Artagnan, "it is nothing of thatkind. --I am rich and free. "

"Rich!" exclaimed Aramis. 

"Yes, rich for me; not for you or Porthos, understand. I have an incomeof about fifteen thousand livres. "

Aramis looked at him suspiciously. He could not believe--particularlyon seeing his friend in such humble guise--that he had made so fine afortune. Then D'Artagnan, seeing that the hour of explanations was come, related the history of his English adventures. During the recital hesaw, ten times, the eyes of the prelate sparkle, and his slender fingerswork convulsively. As to Porthos, it was not admiration he manifestedfor D'Artagnan; it was enthusiasm, it was delirium. When D'Artagnan hadfinished, "Well!" said Aramis. 

"Well!" said D'Artagnan, "you see, then, I have in England friends andproperty, in France a treasure. If your heart tells you so, I offer themto you. That is what I came here for. "

However firm was his look, he could not this time support the look ofAramis. He allowed, therefore, his eye to stray upon Porthos--like thesword which yields to too powerful a pressure, and seeks another road. 

"At all events, " said the bishop, "you have assumed a singular travelingcostume, old friend. "

"Frightful! I know it is. You may understand why I would not travel as acavalier or a noble; since I became rich, I am miserly. "

"And you say, then, you came to Belle-Isle?" said Aramis, withouttransition. 

"Yes, " replied D'Artagnan; "I knew I should find you and Porthos there. "

"Find me!" cried Aramis. "Me! for the last year past I have not oncecrossed the sea. "

"Oh, " said D'Artagnan, "I should never have supposed you such ahousekeeper. "

"Ah, dear friend, I must tell you that I am no longer the Aramis offormer times. Riding on horseback is unpleasant to me; the sea fatiguesme. I am a poor, ailing priest, always complaining, always grumbling, and inclined to the austerities which appear to accord with oldage, --preliminary parlayings with death. I linger, my dear D'Artagnan, Ilinger. "

"Well, that is all the better, my friend, for we shall probably beneighbors soon. "

"Bah!" said Aramis with a degree of surprise he did not even seek todissemble. "You my neighbor!"

"Mordioux! yes. "

"How so?"

"I am about to purchase some very profitable salt-mines, which aresituated between Pirial and Croisic. Imagine, my friend, a clear profitof twelve per cent. Never any deficiency, never any idle expenses; theocean, faithful and regular, brings every twelve hours its contingencyto my coffers. I am the first Parisian who has dreamt of such aspeculation. Do not say anything about it, I beg of you, and in a shorttime we will communicate on the matter. I am to have three leagues ofcountry for thirty thousand livres. "

Aramis darted a look at Porthos, as if to ask if all this were true, if some snare were not concealed beneath this outward indifference. But soon, as if ashamed of having consulted this poor auxiliary, hecollected all his forces for a fresh assault and new defense. "I heardthat you had had some difference with the court but that you had comeout of it as you know how to get through everything, D'Artagnan, withthe honors of war. "

"I!" said the musketeer, with a burst of laughter that did not concealhis embarrassment, for, from these words, Aramis was not unlikely to beacquainted with his last relations with the king. "I! Oh, tell me allabout that, pray, Aramis?"

"Yes, it was related to me, a poor bishop, lost in the middle of theLandes, that the king had taken you as the confidant of his amours. "

"With whom?"

"With Mademoiselle de Mancini. "

D'Artagnan breathed freely again. "Ah! I don't say no to that, " repliedhe. 

"It appears that the king took you one morning over the bridge of Bloisto talk with his lady-love. "

"That's true, " said D'Artagnan. "And you know that, do you? Well, then, you must know that the same day I gave in my resignation!"

"What, sincerely?"

"Nothing more so. "

"It was after that, then, that you went to the Comte de la Fere's?"

"Yes. "

"Afterwards to me?"

"Yes. "

"And then Porthos?"

"Yes. "

"Was it in order to pay us a simple visit?"

"No, I did not know you were engaged, and I wished to take you with meinto England. "

"Yes, I understand; and then you executed alone, wonderful man as youare, what you wanted to propose to us all four. I suspected you hadsomething to do with that famous restoration, when I learned that youhad been seen at King Charles's receptions, and that he appeared totreat you like a friend, or rather like a person to whom he was under anobligation. "

"But how the devil did you learn all that?" asked D'Artagnan, who beganto fear that the investigation of Aramis had extended further than hewished. 

"Dear D'Artagnan, " said the prelate, "my friendship resembles, in adegree, the solicitude of that night watch whom we have in the littletower of the mole, at the extremity of the quay. That brave man, everynight, lights a lantern to direct the barks that come from sea. He isconcealed in his sentry-box, and the fishermen do not see him; but hefollows them with interest; he divines them; he calls them; he attractsthem into the way to the port. I resemble this watcher: from time totime some news reaches me, and recalls to my remembrance all those Iloved. Then I follow the friends of old days over the stormy ocean ofthe world, I, a poor watcher, to whom God has kindly given the shelterof a sentry-box. "

"Well, what did I do when I came from England?"

"Ah! there, " replied Aramis, "you get beyond my depth. I know nothing ofyou since your return. D'Artagnan, my eyes are dim. I regretted you didnot think of me. I wept over your forgetfulness. I was wrong. I see youagain, and it is a festival, a great festival, I assure you, solemnly!How is Athos?"

"Very well, thank you. "

"And our young pupil, Raoul?"

"He seems to have inherited the skill of his father, Athos, and thestrength of his tutor, Porthos. "

"And on what occasion have you been able to judge of that?"

"Eh! mon Dieu! on the eve of my departure from Paris. "

"Indeed! tell me all about it!"

"Yes; there was an execution at the Greve, and in consequence of thatexecution, a riot. We happened by accident, to be in the riot; and inthis riot we were obliged to have recourse to our swords. And he didwonders. "

"Bah! what did he do?"

"Why, in the first place, he threw a man out of the window, as he wouldhave flung a sack full of flock. "

"Come, that's pretty well, " said Porthos. 

"Then he drew, and cut and thrust away, as we fellows used to do in thegood old times. "

"And what was the cause of this riot?" said Porthos. 

D'Artagnan remarked upon the face of Aramis a complete indifference tothis question of Porthos. "Why, " said he, fixing his eyes upon Aramis, "on account of two farmers of the revenues, friends of M. Fouquet, whomthe king forced to disgorge their plunder, and then hanged them. "

A scarcely perceptible contraction of the prelate's brow showed that hehad heard D'Artagnan's reply. 

"Oh, oh!" said Porthos; "and what were the names of these friends of M. Fouquet?"

"MM. D'Eymeris and Lyodot, " said D'Artagnan. "Do you know those names, Aramis?"

"No, " said the prelate, disdainfully; "they sound like the names offinanciers. "

"Exactly; so they were. "

"Oh! M. Fouquet allows his friends to be hanged, then, " said Porthos. 

"And why not?" said Aramis. "Why, it seems to me----"

"If these culprits were hanged, it was by order of the king. Now M. Fouquet, although superintendent of the finances, has not, I believe, the right of life and death. "

"That may be, " said Porthos; "but in the place of M. Fouquet----"

Aramis was afraid Porthos was about to say something awkward, sointerrupted him. "Come, D'Artagnan, " said he; "this is quite enoughabout other people, let us talk a little about you. "

"Of me you know all that I can tell you. On the contrary let me hear alittle about you, Aramis. "

"I have told you, my friend. There is nothing of Aramis left in me. "

"Nor of the Abbe d'Herblay even?"

"No, not even of him. You see a man whom Providence has taken by thehand, whom he has conducted to a position that he could never have daredeven to hope for. "

"Providence?" asked D'Artagnan. 

"Yes. "

"Well, that is strange! I was told it was M. Fouquet. "

"Who told you that?" cried Aramis, without being able, with all thepower of his will, to prevent the color rising to his cheeks. 

"Ma foi! why, Bazin!"

"The fool!"

"I do not say he is a man of genius, it is true; but he told me so; andafter him, I repeat it to you. "

"I have never seen M. Fouquet, " replied Aramis with a look as pure andcalm as that of a virgin who has never told a lie. 

"Well, but if you had seen him and known him, there is no harm in that, "replied D'Artagnan. "M. Fouquet is a very good sort of a man. "

"Humph!"

"A great politician. " Aramis made a gesture of indifference. 

"An all-powerful minister. "

"I only hold to the king and the pope. "

"Dame! listen then, " said D'Artagnan, in the most natural toneimaginable. "I said that because everybody here swears by M. Fouquet. The plain is M. Fouquet's; the salt-mines I am about to buy areM. Fouquet's; the island in which Porthos studies topography is M. Fouquet's; the galleys are M. Fouquet's. I confess, then, that nothingwould have surprised me in your enfeoffment, or rather in that of yourdiocese, to M. Fouquet. He is a different master from the king, that isall; but quite as powerful as Louis. "

"Thank God! I am not vassal to anybody; I belong to nobody, and amentirely my own master, " replied Aramis, who, during this conversation, followed with his eye every gesture of D'Artagnan, every glance ofPorthos. But D'Artagnan was impassible and Porthos motionless; thethrusts aimed so skillfully were parried by an able adversary; not onehit the mark. Nevertheless, both began to feel the fatigue of such acontest and the announcement of supper was well received by everybody. Supper changed the course of conversation. Besides, they felt that, upontheir guard as each one had been, they could neither of them boast ofhaving the advantage. Porthos had understood nothing of what had beenmeant. He had held himself motionless, because Aramis had made him asign not to stir. Supper for him, was nothing but supper; but thatwas quite enough for Porthos. The supper, then, went off very well. D'Artagnan was in high spirits. Aramis exceeded himself in kindaffability. Porthos ate like old Pelops. Their talk was of war, finance, the arts, and love. Aramis played astonishment at every word ofpolitics. D'Artagnan risked. This long series of surprises increasedthe mistrust of D'Artagnan, as the eternal indifference of D'Artagnanprovoked the suspicions of Aramis. At length D'Artagnan, designedly, uttered the name of Colbert; he had reserved that stroke for the last. 

"Who is this Colbert?" asked the bishop. 

"Oh! come, " said D'Artagnan to himself, "that is too strong! We must becareful, mordioux! we must be careful. "

And he then gave Aramis all the information respecting M. Colbert hecould desire. The supper, or rather, the conversation, was prolongedtill one o'clock in the morning between D'Artagnan and Aramis. At teno'clock precisely, Porthos had fallen asleep in his chair and snoredlike an organ. At midnight he woke up and they sent him to bed. "Hum!"said he, "I was near falling asleep; but that was all very interestingyou were talking about. "

At one o'clock Aramis conducted D'Artagnan to the chamber destined forhim, which was the best in the episcopal residence. Two servants wereplaced at his command. "To-morrow, at eight o'clock, " said he, takingleave of D'Artagnan, "we will take, if agreeable to you, a ride onhorseback with Porthos. "

"At eight o'clock!" said D'Artagnan, "so late?"

"You know that I require seven hours, sleep. " said Aramis. 

"That is true. "

"Good-night, dear friend!" And he embraced the musketeer cordially. 

D'Artagnan allowed him to depart; then, as soon as the door closed, "Good!" cried he, "at five o'clock I will be on foot. "

This determination being made, he went to bed and quietly "put two andtwo together, " as people say. 

CHAPTER 73. In which Porthos begins to be sorry for having come withD'Artagnan

Scarcely had D'Artagnan extinguished his taper, when Aramis, who hadwatched through his curtains the last glimmer of light in his friend'sapartment, traversed the corridor on tiptoe, and went to Porthos's room. The giant, who had been in bed nearly an hour and a half, lay grandlystretched out on the down bed. He was in that happy calm of the firstsleep, which, with Porthos, resisted the noise of bells or the report ofcannon; his head swam in that soft oscillation which reminds us of thesoothing movement of a ship. In a moment Porthos would have begun todream. The door of the chamber opened softly under the delicate pressureof the hand of Aramis. The bishop approached the sleeper. A thick carpetdeadened the sound of his steps, besides which Porthos snored in amanner to drown all noise. He laid one hand on his shoulder--"Rouse, "said he, "wake up, my dear Porthos. " The voice of Aramis was soft andkind, but it conveyed more than a notice, --it conveyed an order. Hishand was light, but it indicated a danger. Porthos heard the voice andfelt the hand of Aramis, even in the depth of his sleep. He started up. "Who goes there?" cried he, in his giant's voice. 

"Hush! hush! It is I, " said Aramis. 

"You, my friend? And what the devil do you wake me for?"

"To tell you that you must set off directly. "

"Set off?"

"Yes. "

"Where for?"

"For Paris. "

Porthos bounded up in his bed, and then sank back again, fixing hisgreat eyes in agitation upon Aramis. 

"For Paris?"

"Yes. "

"A hundred leagues?" said he. 

"A hundred and four, " replied the bishop. 

"Oh! mon Dieu!" sighed Porthos, lying down again, like children whocontend with their bonne to gain an hour or two more sleep. 

"Thirty hours' riding, " said Aramis, firmly. "You know there are goodrelays. "

Porthos pushed out one leg, allowing a groan to escape him. 

"Come, come! my friend, " insisted the prelate with a sort of impatience. 

Porthos drew the other leg out of the bed. "And is it absolutelynecessary that I should go, at once?"

"Urgently necessary. "

Porthos got upon his feet, and began to shake both walls and floors withhis steps of a marble statue. 

"Hush! hush! for the love of Heaven, my dear Porthos!" said Aramis, "youwill wake somebody. "

"Ah! that's true, " replied Porthos, in a voice of thunder, "I forgotthat; but be satisfied, I am on guard. " And so saying, he let fall abelt loaded with his sword and pistols, and a purse, from which thecrowns escaped with a vibrating and prolonged noise. This noise made theblood of Aramis boil, whilst it drew from Porthos a formidable burst oflaughter. "How droll that is!" said he, in the same voice. 

"Not so loud, Porthos, not so loud. "

"True, true!" and he lowered his voice a half-note. 

"I was going to say, " continued Porthos, "that it is droll that we arenever so slow as when we are in a hurry, and never make so much noise aswhen we wish to be silent. "

"Yes, that is true, but let us give the proverb the lie, Porthos; let usmake haste, and hold our tongue. "

"You see I am doing my best, " said Porthos, putting on his haut dechausses. 

"Very well. "

"This is something in haste?"

"It is more than that, it is serious, Porthos. "

"Oh, oh!"

"D'Artagnan has questioned you, has he not?"

"Questioned me?"

"Yes, at Belle-Isle?"

"Not the least in the world. "

"Are you sure of that, Porthos?"

"Parbleu!"

"It is impossible. Recollect yourself. "

"He asked me what I was doing, and I told him studying topography. Iwould have made use of another word which you employed one day. "

"'Castrametation'?"

"Yes, that's it, but I never could recollect it. "

"All the better. What more did he ask you?"

"Who M. Getard was. "

"Next?"

"Who M. Jupenet was. "

"He did not happen to see our plan of fortifications, did he?"

"Yes. "

"The devil he did!"

"But don't be alarmed, I had rubbed out your writing with India-rubber. It was impossible for him to suppose you had given me any advice inthose works. "

"Ay, but our friend has phenomenally keen eyes. "

"What are you afraid of?"

"I fear that everything is discovered, Porthos; the matter is, then, toprevent a great misfortune. I have given orders to my people to closeall the gates and doors. D'Artagnan will not be able to get out beforedaybreak. Your horse is ready saddled; you will gain the first relay;by five o'clock in the morning you will have traversed fifteen leagues. Come!"

Aramis then assisted Porthos to dress, piece by piece, with as muchcelerity as the most skillful valet de chambre could have done. Porthos, half stupefied, let him do as he liked, and confounded himself inexcuses. When he was ready, Aramis took him by the hand, and led him, making him place his foot with precaution on every step of the stairs, preventing him running against doorframes, turning him this way andthat, as if Aramis had been the giant, and Porthos the dwarf. Soul setfire to and animated matter. A horse was waiting, ready saddled, in thecourtyard. Porthos mounted. Then Aramis himself took the horse by thebridle, and led him over some dung spread in the yard, with the evidentintention of suppressing noise. He, at the same time, held tight thehorse's nose, to prevent him neighing. When arrived at the outward gate, drawing Porthos towards him, who was going off without even asking himwhat for: "Now friend Porthos, now; without drawing bridle, till youget to Paris, " whispered he in his ears; "eat on horseback, drink onhorseback, sleep on horseback, but lose not a minute. "

"That's enough, I will not stop. "

"This letter to M. Fouquet; cost what it may, he must have it to-morrowbefore mid-day. "

"He shall. "

"And do not forget one thing, my friend. "

"What is that?"

"That you are riding out on a hunt for your brevet of duc and peer. "

"Oh! oh!" said Porthos, with his eyes sparkling; "I will do it intwenty-four hours, in that case. "

"Try. "

"Then let go the bridle--and forward, Goliath!"

Aramis did let go, not the bridle, but the horse's nose. Porthosreleased his hand, clapped spurs to his horse, which set off at agallop. As long as he could distinguish Porthos through the darkness, Aramis followed him with his eyes: when he was completely out of sight, he re-entered the yard. Nothing had stirred in D'Artagnan's apartment. The valet placed on watch at the door had neither seen any light, norheard any noise. Aramis closed his door carefully, sent the lackey tobed, and quickly sought his own. D'Artagnan really suspected nothing, therefore thought he had gained everything, when he awoke in themorning, about halfpast four. He ran to the window in his shirt. The window looked out upon the court. Day was dawning. The court wasdeserted; the fowls, even, had not left their roosts. Not a servantappeared. Every door was closed. 

"Good! all is still, " said D'Artagnan to himself. "Never mind: I amup first in the house. Let us dress; that will be so much done. " AndD'Artagnan dressed himself. But, this time, he endeavored not to giveto the costume of M. Agnan that bourgeoise and almost ecclesiasticalrigidity he had affected before; he managed, by drawing his belttighter, by buttoning his clothes in a different fashion, and by puttingon his hat a little on one side, to restore to his person a little ofthat military character, the absence of which had surprised Aramis. Thisbeing done, he made free, or affected to make free with his host, andentered his chamber without ceremony. Aramis was asleep or feigned tobe so. A large book lay open upon his night-desk, a wax-light was stillburning in its silver sconce. This was more than enough to proveto D'Artagnan the quiescence of the prelate's night, and the goodintentions of his waking. The musketeer did to the bishop precisely asthe bishop had done to Porthos--he tapped him on the shoulder. EvidentlyAramis pretended to sleep; for, instead of waking suddenly, he who sleptso lightly required a repetition of the summons. 

"Ah! ah! is that you?" said he, stretching his arms. "What an agreeablesurprise! Ma foi! Sleep had made me forget I had the happiness topossess you. What o'clock is it?"

"I do not know, " said D'Artagnan, a little embarrassed. "Early, Ibelieve. But, you know, that devil of a habit of waking with the daysticks to me still. "

"Do you wish that we should go out so soon?" asked Aramis. "It appearsto me to be very early. "

"Just as you like. "

"I thought we had agreed not to get on horseback before eight. "

"Possibly; but I had so great a wish to see you, that I said to myself, the sooner the better. "

"And my seven hours, sleep!" said Aramis: "Take care; I had reckonedupon them, and what I lose of them I must make up. "

"But it seems to me that, formerly, you were less of a sleeper thanthat, dear friend; your blood was alive, and you were never to be foundin bed. "

"And it is exactly on account of what you tell me that I am so fond ofbeing there now. "

"Then you confess that it is not for the sake of sleeping that you haveput me off till eight o'clock. "

"I have been afraid you would laugh at me, if I told you the truth. "

"Tell me, notwithstanding. "

"Well, from six to eight, I am accustomed to perform my devotions. "

"Your devotions?"

"Yes. "

"I did not believe a bishop's exercises were so severe. "

"A bishop, my friend, must sacrifice more to appearance than a simplecleric. "

"Mordioux! Aramis, that is a word which reconciles me with yourgreatness. To appearances! That is a musketeer's word, in good truth!Vivent les apparences, Aramis!"

"Instead of felicitating me upon it, pardon me, D'Artagnan. It is a verymundane word which I had allowed to escape me. "

"Must I leave you, then?"

"I want time to collect my thoughts, my friend, and for my usualprayers. "

"Well, I leave you to them; but on account of that poor pagan, D'Artagnan, abridge them for once, I beg; I thirst for speech with you. "

"Well, D'Artagnan, I promise you that within an hour and a half----"

"An hour and a half of devotions! Eh! my friend, be as reasonable withme as you can. Let me have the best bargain possible. "

Aramis began to laugh. 

"Still agreeable, still young, still gay, " said he. "You have come intomy diocese to set me quarrelling with grace. "

"Bah!"

"And you know well that I was never able to resist your seductions; youwill cost me my salvation, D'Artagnan. "

D'Artagnan bit his lips. 

"Well, " said he, "I will take the sin on my own head, favor me with onesimple Christian sign of the cross, favor me with one pater, and we willpart. "

"Hush!" said Aramis, "we are already no longer alone, I hear strangerscoming up. "

"Well, dismiss them. "

"Impossible, I made an appointment with them yesterday; it is theprincipal of the college of the Jesuits, and the superior of theDominicans. "

"Your staff? Well, so be it. "

"What are you going to do?"

"I will go and wake Porthos, and remain in his company till you havefinished the conference. "

Aramis did not stir, his brow remained unbent, he betrayed himself by nogesture or word; "Go, " said he, as D'Artagnan advanced to the door. "Apropos, do you know where Porthos sleeps?"

"No, but I will inquire. "

"Take the corridor, and open the second door on the left. "

"Thank you! au revoir. " And D'Artagnan departed in the direction pointedout by Aramis. 

Ten minutes had not passed away when he came back. He found Aramisseated between the superior of the Dominicans and the principal of thecollege of the Jesuits, exactly in the same situation as he had foundhim formerly in the auberge at Crevecoeur. This company did not at allterrify the musketeer. 

"What is it?" said Aramis, quietly. "You have apparently something tosay to me, my friend. "

"It is, " replied D'Artagnan, fixing his eyes upon Aramis, "it is thatPorthos is not in his apartment. "

"Indeed, " said Aramis, calmly; "are you sure?"

"Pardieu! I came from his chamber. "

"Where can he be, then?"

"That is what I am asking you. "

"And have not you inquired?"

"Yes, I have. "

"And what answer did you get?"

"That Porthos, often walking out in a morning, without saying anything, had probably gone out. "

"What did you do, then?"

"I went to the stables, " replied D'Artagnan, carelessly. 

"What to do?"

"To see if Porthos had departed on horseback. "

"And?" interrogated the bishop. 

"Well, there is a horse missing, stall No. 3, Goliath. "

All this dialogue, it may be easily understood, was not exempt froma certain affectation on the part of the musketeer, and a perfectcomplaisance on the part of Aramis. 

"Oh! I guess how it is, " said Aramis, after having considered for amoment, "Porthos is gone out to give us a surprise. "

"A surprise?"

"Yes, the canal which goes from Vannes to the sea abounds in teal andsnipes; that is Porthos's favorite sport, and he will bring us back adozen for breakfast. "

"Do you think so?" said D'Artagnan. 

"I am sure of it. Where else can he be? I would lay a wager he took agun with him. "

"Well, that is possible, " said D'Artagnan. 

"Do one thing, my friend. Get on horseback, and join him. "

"You are right, " said D'Artagnan, "I will. "

"Shall I go with you?"

"No, thank you; Porthos is a rather remarkable man: I will inquire as Igo along. "

"Will you take an arquebuse?"

"Thank you. "

"Order what horse you like to be saddled. "

"The one I rode yesterday, on coming from Belle-Isle. "

"So be it: use the horse as your own. "

Aramis rang, and gave orders to have the horse M. D'Artagnan had chosen, saddled. 

D'Artagnan followed the servant charged with the execution of thisorder. When arrived at the door, the servant drew on one side to allowM. D'Artagnan to pass; and at that moment he caught the eye of hismaster. A knitting of the brow gave the intelligent spy to understandthat all should be given to D'Artagnan he wished. D'Artagnan got intothe saddle, and Aramis heard the steps of his horse on the pavement. Aninstant after, the servant returned. 

"Well?" asked the bishop. 

"Monseigneur, he has followed the course of the canal, and is goingtowards the sea, " said the servant. 

"Very well!" said Aramis. 

In fact, D'Artagnan, dismissing all suspicion, hastened towards theocean, constantly hoping to see in the Landes, or on the beach, thecolossal profile of Porthos. He persisted in fancying he could trace ahorse's steps in every puddle. Sometimes he imagined he heard the reportof a gun. This illusion lasted three hours; during two of which he wentforward in search of his friend--in the last he returned to the house. 

"We must have crossed, " said he, "and I shall find them waiting for meat table. "

D'Artagnan was mistaken. He no more found Porthos at the palace than hehad found him on the sea-shore. Aramis was waiting for him at the top ofthe stairs, looking very much concerned. 

"Did my people not find you, my dear D'Artagnan?" cried he, as soon ashe caught sight of the musketeer. 

"No; did you send any one after me?"

"I am deeply concerned, my friend, deeply, to have induced you tomake such a useless search, but, about seven o'clock, the almoner ofSaint-Paterne came here. He had met Du Vallon, who was going away, andwho being unwilling to disturb anybody at the palace, had charged himto tell me that, fearing M. Getard would play him some ill turn in hisabsence, he was going to take advantage of the morning tide to make atour to Belle-Isle. "

"But tell me, Goliath has not crossed the four leagues of sea, I shouldthink. "

"There are full six, " said Aramis. 

"That makes it less probable still. "

"Therefore, my friend, " said Aramis, with one of his blandest smiles, "Goliath is in the stable, well pleased, I will answer for it, thatPorthos is no longer on his back. " In fact, the horse had been broughtback from the relay by the direction of the prelate, from whom no detailescaped. D'Artagnan appeared as well satisfied as possible with theexplanation. He entered upon a part of dissimulation which agreedperfectly with the suspicions that arose more and more strongly in hismind. He breakfasted between the Jesuit and Aramis, having the Dominicanin front of him, and smiling particularly at the Dominican, whose jolly, fat face pleased him much. The repast was long and sumptuous; excellentSpanish wine, fine Morbihan oysters, exquisite fish from the mouth ofthe Loire, enormous prawns from Paimboeuf, and delicious game from themoors, constituted the principal part of it. D'Artagnan ate much, anddrank but little. Aramis drank nothing, unless it was water. After therepast, --

"You offered me an arquebuse, " said D'Artagnan. 

"I did. "

"Lend it me, then. "

"Are you going shooting?"

"Whilst waiting for Porthos, it is the best thing I can do, I think. "

"Take which you like from the trophy. "

"Will you not come with me?"

"I would with great pleasure; but, alas! my friend, sporting isforbidden to bishops. "

"Ah!" said D'Artagnan, "I did not know that. "

"Besides, " continued Aramis, "I shall be busy till mid-day. "

"I shall go alone, then?" said D'Artagnan. 

"I am sorry to say you must; but come back to dinner. "

"Pardieu! the eating at your house is too good to make me think of notcoming back. " And thereupon D'Artagnan quitted his host, bowed to theguests, and took his arquebuse; but instead of shooting, went straightto the little port of Vannes. He looked in vain to observe if anybodysaw him; he could discern neither thing nor person. He engaged a littlefishing boat for twenty-five livres, and set off at half-past eleven, convinced that he had not been followed; and that was true, he had notbeen followed; only a Jesuit brother, placed in the top of the steepleof his church, had not, since the morning, by the help of an excellentglass, lost sight of one of his steps. At three-quarters past eleven, Aramis was informed that D'Artagnan was sailing towards Belle-Isle. Thevoyage was rapid; a good north north-east wind drove him towards theisle. As he approached, his eyes were constantly fixed upon the coast. He looked to see if, upon the shore or upon the fortifications thebrilliant dress and vast stature of Porthos should stand out against aslightly clouded sky; but his search was vain. He landed without havingseen anything; and learnt from the first soldier interrogated by him, that M. Du Vallon had not yet returned from Vannes. Then, without losingan instant, D'Artagnan ordered his little bark to put its head towardsSarzeau. We know that the wind changes with the different hours of theday. The breeze had veered from the north north-east to the south-east:the wind, then, was almost as good for the return to Sarzeau, as it hadbeen for the voyage to Belle-Isle. In three hours D'Artagnan had touchedthe continent, two hours more sufficed for his ride to Vannes. In spiteof the rapidity of his passage, what D'Artagnan endured of impatienceand anger during that short passage, the deck alone of the vessel, uponwhich he stamped backwards and forwards for three hours, could testify. He made but one bound from the quay whereon he landed to the episcopalpalace. He thought to terrify Aramis by the promptitude of his return;he wished to reproach him with his duplicity, and yet with reserve;but with sufficient spirit, nevertheless, to make him feel all theconsequences of it, and force from him a part of his secret He hoped, in short--thanks to that heat of expression which is to secrets what thecharge with the bayonet is to redoubts--to bring the mysterious Aramisto some manifestation or other. But he found, in the vestibule of thepalace, the valet de chambre, who closed the passage, while smiling uponhim with a stupid air. 

"Monseigneur?" cried D'Artagnan, endeavoring to put him aside with hishand. Moved for an instant the valet resumed his station. 

"Monseigneur?" said he. 

"Yes, to be sure; do you not know me, imbecile?"

"Yes, you are the Chevalier d'Artagnan. "

"Then let me pass. "

"It is of no use. "

"Why of no use?"

"Because His Greatness is not at home. "

"What! His Greatness is not at home? where is he then?"

"Gone. "

"Gone?"

"Yes. "

"Whither?"

"I don't know; but perhaps he tells monsieur le chevalier. "

"And how? where? in what fashion?"

"In this letter, which he gave me for monsieur le chevalier. " And thevalet de chambre drew a letter from his pocket. 

"Give it me, then, you rascal, " said D'Artagnan, snatching it from hishand. "Oh, yes, " continued he, at the first line, "yes, I understand;"and he read:--

"Dear Friend, --An affair of the most urgent nature calls me to a distantparish of my diocese. I hoped to see you again before I set out; but Ilose that hope in thinking that you are going, no doubt, to remain twoor three days at Belle-Isle, with our dear Porthos. Amuse yourself aswell as you can; but do not attempt to hold out against him at table. This is a counsel I might have given even to Athos, in his mostbrilliant and best days. Adieu, dear friend; believe that I regretgreatly not having better, and for a longer time, profited by yourexcellent company. "

"Mordioux!" cried D'Artagnan. "I am tricked. Ah! blockhead, brute, triple fool that I am! But those laugh best who laugh last. Oh, duped, duped like a monkey, cheated with an empty nutshell!" And with a heartyblow bestowed upon the nose of the smirking valet de chambre, he madeall haste out of the episcopal palace. Furet, however good a trotter, was not equal to present circumstances. D'Artagnan therefore took thepost, and chose a horse which he soon caused to demonstrate, withgood spurs and a light hand, that deer are not the swiftest animals innature. 

CHAPTER 74. In which D'Artagnan makes all Speed, Porthos snores, andAramis counsels

From thirty to thirty-five hours after the events we have just related, as M. Fouquet, according to his custom, having interdicted his door, wasworking in the cabinet of his house at Saint-Mande, with which we arealready acquainted, a carriage, drawn by four horses steaming withsweat, entered the court at full gallop. This carriage was, probably, expected, for three or four lackeys hastened to the door, which theyopened. Whilst M. Fouquet rose from his bureau and ran to the window, a man got painfully out of the carriage descending with difficulty thethree steps of the door, leaning upon the shoulders of the lackeys. He had scarcely uttered his name, when the valet upon whom he was notleaning sprang up the perron, and disappeared in the vestibule. This manwent to inform his master; but he had no occasion to knock at the door:Fouquet was standing on the threshold. 

"Monseigneur, the Bishop of Vannes, " said he. 

"Very well!" replied his master. 

Then, leaning over the banister of the staircase, of which Aramis wasbeginning to ascend the first steps, --

"Ah, dear friend!" said he, "you, so soon!"

"Yes; I, myself, monsieur! but bruised, battered, as you see. "

"Oh! my poor friend, " said Fouquet, presenting him his arm, on whichAramis leant, whilst the servants drew back respectfully. 

"Bah!" replied Aramis, "it is nothing, since I am here; the principalthing was that I should get here, and here I am. "

"Speak quickly, " said Fouquet, closing the door of the cabinet behindAramis and himself. 

"Are we alone?"

"Yes, perfectly. "

"No one observes us?--no one can hear us?"

"Be satisfied; nobody. "

"Is M. Du Vallon arrived?"

"Yes. "

"And you have received my letter?"

"Yes. The affair is serious, apparently, since it necessitates yourattendance in Paris, at a moment when your presence was so urgentelsewhere. "

"You are right, it could not be more serious. "

"Thank you! thank you! What is it about? But, for God's sake! beforeanything else, take time to breathe, dear friend. You are so pale, youfrighten me. "

"I am really in great pain. But, for Heaven's sake, think nothing aboutme. Did M. Du Vallon tell you nothing, when he delivered the letter toyou?"

"No; I heard a great noise; I went to the window; I saw at the footof the perron, a sort of horseman of marble; I went down, he held theletter out to me, and his horse fell down dead. "

"But he?"

"He fell with the horse; he was lifted, and carried to an apartment. Having read the letter, I went up to him, in hopes of obtaining moreample information; but he was asleep, and, after such a fashion, that itwas impossible to wake him. I took pity on him; I gave orders that hisboots should be cut from off his legs, and that he should be left quiteundisturbed. "

"So far well; now, this is the question in hand, monseigneur. You haveseen M. D'Artagnan in Paris, have you not?"

"Certes, and think him a man of intelligence, and even a man of heart;although he did bring about the death of our dear friends, Lyodot andD'Eymeris. "

"Alas! yes, I heard of that. At Tours I met the courier who was bringingme the letter from Gourville, and the dispatches from Pellisson. Haveyou seriously reflected on that event, monsieur?"

"Yes. "

"And in it you perceived a direct attack upon your sovereignty?"

"And do you believe it to be so?"

"Oh, yes, I think so. "

"Well, I must confess, that sad idea occurred to me likewise. "

"Do not blind yourself, monsieur, in the name of Heaven! Listenattentively to me, --I return to D'Artagnan. "

"I am all attention. "

"Under what circumstances did you see him?"

"He came here for money. "

"With what kind of order?"

"With an order from the king. "

"Direct?"

"Signed by his majesty. "

"There, then! Well, D'Artagnan has been to Belle-Isle; he was disguised;he came in the character of some sort of an intendant, charged by hismaster to purchase salt-mines. Now, D'Artagnan has no other master butthe king: he came, then, sent by the king. He saw Porthos. "

"Who is Porthos?"

"I beg your pardon, I made a mistake. He saw M. Du Vallon at Belle-Isle;and he knows, as well as you and I do, that Belle-Isle is fortified. "

"And you think that the king sent him there?" said Fouquet, pensively. 

"I certainly do. "

"And D'Artagnan, in the hands of the king, is a dangerous instrument?"

"The most dangerous imaginable. "

"Then I formed a correct opinion of him at the first glance. "

"How so?"

"I wished to attach him to myself. "

"If you judged him to be the bravest, the most acute, and the mostadroit man in France, you judged correctly. "

"He must be had then, at any price. "

"D'Artagnan?"

"Is not that your opinion?"

"It may be my opinion, but you will never get him. "

"Why?"

"Because we have allowed the time to go by. He was dissatisfied with thecourt, we should have profited by that; since that, he has passed intoEngland; there he powerfully assisted in the restoration, there hegained a fortune, and, after all, he returned to the service of theking. Well, if he has returned to the service of the king, it is becausehe is well paid in that service. "

"We will pay him even better, that is all. "

"Oh! monsieur, excuse me; D'Artagnan has a high respect for his word, and where that is once engaged he keeps it. "

"What do you conclude, then?" said Fouquet, with great inquietude. 

"At present, the principal thing is to parry a dangerous blow. "

"And how is it to be parried?"

"Listen. "

"But D'Artagnan will come and render an account to the king of hismission. "

"Oh, we have time enough to think about that. "

"How so? You are much in advance of him, I presume?"

"Nearly ten hours. "

"Well, in ten hours----"

Aramis shook his pale head. "Look at these clouds which flit acrossthe heavens; at these swallows which cut the air. D'Artagnan movesmore quickly than the clouds or the birds; D'Artagnan is the wind whichcarries them. "

"A strange man!"

"I tell you, he is superhuman, monsieur. He is of my own age, and I haveknown him these five-and-thirty years. "

"Well?"

"Well, listen to my calculation, monsieur. I sent M. Du Vallon off toyou two hours after midnight. M. Du Vallon was eight hours in advance ofme, when did M. Du Vallon arrive?"

"About four hours ago. "

"You see, then, that I gained four upon him; and yet Porthos is astaunch horseman, and he has left on the road eight dead horses, whosebodies I came to successively. I rode post fifty leagues; but I have thegout, the gravel, and what else I know not; so that fatigue kills me. I was obliged to dismount at Tours; since that, rolling along in acarriage, half dead, sometimes overturned, drawn upon the sides, andsometimes on the back of the carriage, always with four spiritedhorses at full gallop, I have arrived--arrived, gaining four hours uponPorthos; but, see you, D'Artagnan does not weigh three hundred-weight, as Porthos does; D'Artagnan has not the gout and gravel, as I have; heis not a horseman, he is a centaur. D'Artagnan, look you, set out forBelle-Isle when I set out for Paris; and D'Artagnan, notwithstanding myten hours, advance, D'Artagnan will arrive within two hours after me. "

"But, then, accidents?"

"He never meets with accidents. "

"Horses may fail him. "

"He will run as fast as a horse. "

"Good God! what a man!"

"Yes, he is a man whom I love and admire. I love him because he is good, great, and loyal; I admire him because he represents in my eyes theculminating point of human power; but, whilst loving and admiring him, Ifear him, and am on my guard against him. Now then, I resume, monsieur;in two hours D'Artagnan will be here; be beforehand with him. Go to theLouvre, and see the king, before he sees D'Artagnan. "

"What shall I say to the king?"

"Nothing; give him Belle-Isle. "

"Oh! Monsieur d'Herblay! Monsieur d'Herblay, " cried Fouquet, "whatprojects crushed all at once!"

"After one project that has failed, there is always another project thatmay lead to fortune; we should never despair. Go, monsieur, and go atonce. "

"But that garrison, so carefully chosen, the king will change itdirectly. "

"That garrison, monsieur, was the king's when it entered Belle-Isle;it is yours now; it is the same with all garrisons after a fortnight'soccupation. Let things go on, monsieur. Do you see any inconvenience inhaving an army at the end of a year, instead of two regiments? Doyou not see that your garrison of today will make you partisans at LaRochelle, Nantes, Bordeaux, Toulouse--in short, wherever they may besent to? Go to the king, monsieur; go; time flies, and D'Artagnan, whilewe are losing time, is flying, like an arrow, along the high-road. "

"Monsieur d'Herblay, you know that each word from you is a germ whichfructifies in my thoughts. I will go to the Louvre. "

"Instantly, will you not?"

"I only ask time to change my dress. "

"Remember that D'Artagnan has no need to pass through Saint-Mande; butwill go straight to the Louvre; that is cutting off an hour from theadvantage that yet remains to us. "

"D'Artagnan may have everything except my English horses. I shall beat the Louvre in twenty-five minutes. " And, without losing a second, Fouquet gave orders for his departure. 

Aramis had only time to say to him, "Return as quickly as you go; for Ishall await you impatiently. "

Five minutes after, the superintendent was flying along the road toParis. During this time Aramis desired to be shown the chamber in whichPorthos was sleeping. At the door of Fouquet's cabinet he was folded inthe arms of Pellisson, who had just heard of his arrival, and had lefthis office to see him. Aramis received, with that friendly dignity whichhe knew so well how to assume, these caresses, respectful as earnest;but all at once stopping on the landing-place, "What is that I hear upyonder?"

There was, in fact, a hoarse, growling kind of noise, like the roar ofa hungry tiger, or an impatient lion. "Oh, that is nothing, " saidPellisson, smiling. 

"Well; but----"

"It is M. Du Vallon snoring. "

"Ah! true, " said Aramis. "I had forgotten. No one but he is capableof making such a noise. Allow me, Pellisson, to inquire if he wantsanything. "

"And you will permit me to accompany you?"

"Oh, certainly;" and both entered the chamber. Porthos was stretchedupon the bed; his face was violet rather than red; his eyes wereswelled; his mouth was wide open. The roaring which escaped from thedeep cavities of his chest made the glass of the windows vibrate. Tothose developed and clearly defined muscles starting from his face, tohis hair matted with sweat, to the energetic heaving of his chin andshoulders, it was impossible to refuse a certain degree of admiration. Strength carried to this point is semi-divine. The Herculean legs andfeet of Porthos had, by swelling, burst his stockings; all the strengthof his huge body was converted into the rigidity of stone. Porthos movedno more than does the giant of granite which reclines upon the plains ofAgrigentum. According to Pellisson's orders, his boots had been cut off, for no human power could have pulled them off. Four lackeys had triedin vain, pulling at them as they would have pulled capstans; and yet allthis did not awaken him. They had hacked off his boots in fragments, andhis legs had fallen back upon the bed. They then cut off the rest ofhis clothes, carried him to a bath, in which they let him soak aconsiderable time. They then put on him clean linen, and placed him ina well-warmed bed--the whole with efforts and pains which might haveroused a dead man, but which did not make Porthos open an eye, orinterrupt for a second the formidable diapason of his snoring. Aramiswished on his part, with his nervous nature, armed with extraordinarycourage, to outbrave fatigue, and employ himself with Gourville andPellisson, but he fainted in the chair in which he had persistedsitting. He was carried into the adjoining room, where the repose of bedsoon soothed his failing brain. 

CHAPTER 75. In which Monsieur Fouquet acts

In the meantime Fouquet was hastening to the Louvre, at the best speedof his English horses. The king was at work with Colbert. All at oncethe king became thoughtful. The two sentences of death he had signedon mounting his throne sometimes recurred to his memory; they were twoblack spots which he saw with his eyes open; two spots of blood which hesaw when his eyes were closed. "Monsieur, " said he, rather sharply, tothe intendant; "it sometimes seems to me that those two men you made mecondemn were not very great culprits. "

"Sire, they were picked out from the herd of the farmers of thefinanciers, which wanted decimating. "

"Picked out by whom?"

"By necessity, sire, " replied Colbert, coldly. 

"Necessity!--a great word, " murmured the young king. 

"A great goddess, sire. "

"They were devoted friends of the superintendent, were they not?"

"Yes, sire; friends who would have given up their lives for MonsieurFouquet. "

"They have given them, monsieur, " said the king. 

"That is true;--but uselessly, by good luck, --which was not theirintention. "

"How much money had these men fraudulently obtained?"

"Ten millions, perhaps; of which six have been confiscated. "

"And is that money in my coffers?" said the king with a certain air ofrepugnance. 

"It is there, sire; but this confiscation, whilst threatening M. Fouquet, has not touched him. "

"You conclude, then, M. Colbert----"

"That if M. Fouquet has raised against your majesty a troop of factiousrioters to extricate his friends from punishment, he will raise an armywhen he has in turn to extricate himself from punishment. "

The king darted at his confidant one of those looks which resemble thelivid fire of a flash of lightning, one of those looks which illuminatethe darkness of the basest consciences. "I am astonished, " said he, "that, thinking such things of M. Fouquet, you did not come to give meyour counsels thereupon. "

"Counsels upon what, sire?"

"Tell me, in the first place, clearly and precisely, what you think, M. Colbert. "

"Upon what subject, sire?"

"Upon the conduct of M. Fouquet. "

"I think, sire, that M. Fouquet, not satisfied with attracting all themoney to himself, as M. Mazarin did, and by that means depriving yourmajesty of one part of your power, still wishes to attract to himselfall the friends of easy life and pleasure--of what idlers call poetry, and politicians, corruption. I, think that, by holding the subjectsof your majesty in pay, he trespasses upon the royal prerogative, andcannot, if this continues so, be long in placing your majesty among theweak and the obscure. "

"How would you qualify all these projects, M. Colbert?"

"The projects of M. Fouquet, sire?"

"Yes. "

"They are called crimes of lese majeste. "

"And what is done to criminals guilty of lese majeste?"

"They are arrested, tried, and punished. "

"You are quite sure that M. Fouquet has conceived the idea of the crimeyou impute to him?"

"I can say more, sire, there is even a commencement of the execution ofit. "

"Well, then, I return to that which I was saying, M. Colbert. "

"And you were saying, sire?"

"Give me counsel. "

"Pardon me, sire, but in the first place, I have something to add. "

"Say--what?"

"An evident, palpable, material proof of treason. "

"And what is that?"

"I have just learnt that M. Fouquet is fortifying Belle-Isle. "

"Ah, indeed!"

"Yes, sire. "

"Are you sure?"

"Perfectly. Do you know, sire, what soldiers there are in Belle-Isle?"

"No, ma foi! Do you?"

"I am ignorant, likewise, sire; I should therefore propose to yourmajesty to send somebody to Belle-Isle?"

"Who?"

"Me, for instance. "

"And what would you do at Belle-Isle?"

"Inform myself whether, after the example of the ancient feudal lords, M. Fouquet was battlementing his walls. "

"And with what purpose could he do that?"

"With the purpose of defending himself some day against his king. "

"But, if it be thus, M. Colbert, " said Louis, "we must immediately do asyou say; M. Fouquet must be arrested. "

"That is impossible. "

"I thought I had already told you, monsieur, that I suppressed that wordin my service. "

"The service of your majesty cannot prevent M. Fouquet from beingsurintendant-general. "

"Well?"

"That, in consequence of holding that post, he has for him all theparliament, as he has all the army by his largesses, literature by hisfavors, and the noblesse by his presents. "

"That is to say, then, that I can do nothing against M. Fouquet?"

"Absolutely nothing, --at least at present, sire. "

"You are a sterile counselor, M. Colbert. "

"Oh, no, sire; for I will not confine myself to pointing out the perilto your majesty. "

"Come, then, where shall we begin to undermine this Colossus; let ussee;" and his majesty began to laugh bitterly. 

"He has grown great by money; kill him by money, sire. "

"If I were to deprive him of his charge?"

"A bad means, sire. "

"The good--the good, then?"

"Ruin him, sire, that is the way. 

"But how?"

"Occasions will not be wanting, take advantage of all occasions. "

"Point them out to me. "

"Here is one at once. His royal highness Monsieur is about to bemarried; his nuptials must be magnificent. That is a good occasion foryour majesty to demand a million of M. Fouquet. M. Fouquet, whopays twenty thousand livres down when he need not pay more than fivethousand, will easily find that million when your majesty demands it. "

"That is all very well; I will demand it, " said Louis. 

"If your majesty will sign the ordonnance I will have the money gottogether myself. " And Colbert pushed a paper before the king, andpresented a pen to him. 

At that moment the usher opened the door and announced monsieur lesurintendant. Louis turned pale. Colbert let the pen fall, and drewback from the king, over whom he extended his black wings like an evilspirit. The superintendent made his entrance like a man of the court, to whom a single glance was sufficient to make him appreciate thesituation. That situation was not very encouraging for Fouquet, whatevermight be his consciousness of strength. The small black eye of Colbert, dilated by envy, and the limpid eye of Louis XIV. , inflamed by anger, signalled some pressing danger. Courtiers are, with regard to courtrumors, like old soldiers, who distinguish through the blasts of windand bluster of leaves the sound of the distant steps of an armed troop. They can, after having listened, tell pretty nearly how many men aremarching, how many arms resound, how many cannons roll. Fouquet had thenonly to interrogate the silence which his arrival had produced; he foundit big with menacing revelations. The king allowed him time enough toadvance as far as the middle of the chamber. His adolescent modestycommanded this forbearance of the moment. Fouquet boldly seized theopportunity. 

"Sire, " said he, "I was impatient to see your majesty. "

"What for?" asked Louis. 

"To announce some good news to you. "

Colbert, minus grandeur of person, less largeness of heart, resembledFouquet in many points. He had the same penetration, the same knowledgeof men; moreover, that great power of self-compression which gives tohypocrites time to reflect, and gather themselves up to take a spring. He guessed that Fouquet was going to meet the blow he was about to dealhim. His eyes glittered ominously. 

"What news?" asked the king. Fouquet placed a roll of papers on thetable. 

"Let your majesty have the goodness to cast your eyes over this work, "said he. The king slowly unfolded the paper. 

"Plans?" said he. 

"Yes, sire. "

"And what are these plans?"

"A new fortification, sire. "

"Ah, ah!" said the king, "you amuse yourself with tactics andstrategies, then, M. Fouquet?"

"I occupy myself with everything that may be useful to the reign of yourmajesty, " replied Fouquet. 

"Beautiful descriptions!" said the king, looking at the design. 

"Your majesty comprehends, without doubt, " said Fouquet, bending overthe paper; "here is the circle of the walls, here are the forts, therethe advanced works. "

"And what do I see here, monsieur?"

"The sea. "

"The sea all round?"

"Yes, sire. "

"And what is, then, the name of this place of which you show me theplan?"

"Sire, it is Belle-Isle-en-Mer, " replied Fouquet with simplicity. 

At this word, at this name, Colbert made so marked a movement, that theking turned round to enforce the necessity for reserve. Fouquet didnot appear to be the least in the world concerned by the movement ofColbert, or the king's signal. 

"Monsieur, " continued Louis, "you have then fortified Belle-Isle?"

"Yes, sire; and I have brought the plan and the accounts to yourmajesty, " replied Fouquet, "I have expended sixteen hundred thousandlivres in this operation. "

"What to do?" replied Louis, coldly, having taken the initiative from amalicious look of the intendant. 

"For an aim very easy to seize, " replied, Fouquet. "Your majesty was oncool terms with Great Britain. "

"Yes; but since the restoration of King Charles II. I have formed analliance with him. "

"A month since, sire, your majesty has truly said; but it is more thansix months since the fortifications of Belle-Isle were begun. "

"Then they have become useless. "

"Sire, fortifications are never useless. I fortified Belle-Isle againstMM. Monk and Lambert and all those London citizens who were playing atsoldiers. Belle-Isle will be ready fortified against the Dutch, againstwhom either England or your majesty cannot fail to make war. "

The king was again silent, and looked askant at Colbert. "Belle-Isle, Ibelieve, " added Louis, "is yours, M. Fouquet?"

"No, sire. "

"Whose then?"

"Your majesty's. "

Colbert was seized with as much terror as if a gulf had opened beneathhis feet. Louis started with admiration, either at the genius or thedevotion of Fouquet. 

"Explain yourself, monsieur, " said he. 

"Nothing more easy, sire; Belle-Isle is one of my estates; I havefortified it at my own expense. But as nothing in the world can opposea subject making an humble present to his king, I offer your majesty theproprietorship of the estate, of which you will leave me the usufruct. Belle-Isle, as a place of war, ought to be occupied by the king. Yourmajesty will be able, henceforth, to keep a safe garrison there. "

Colbert felt almost sinking down upon the floor. To keep himself fromfalling, he was obliged to hold by the columns of the wainscoting. 

"This is a piece of great skill in the art of war that you haveexhibited here, monsieur, " said Louis. 

"Sire, the initiative did not come from me, " replied Fouquet: "manyothers have inspired me with it. The plans themselves have been made byone of the most distinguished engineers. "

"His name?"

"M. Du Vallon. "

"M. Du Vallon?" resumed Louis, "I do not know him. It is much to belamented, M. Colbert, " continued he, "that I do not know the names ofthe men of talent who do honor to my reign. " And while saying thesewords he turned towards Colbert. The latter felt himself crushed, thesweat flowed from his brow, no word presented itself to his lips, hesuffered an inexpressible martyrdom. "You will recollect that name, "added Louis XIV. 

Colbert bowed, but was paler than his ruffles of Flemish lace. Fouquetcontinued:

"The masonries are of Roman concrete; the architects amalgamated it forme after the best accounts of antiquity. "

"And the cannon?" asked Louis. 

"Oh! sire, that concerns your majesty; it did not become me to placecannon in my own house, unless your majesty had told me it was yours. "

Louis began to float, undetermined between the hatred which this sopowerful man inspired him with, and the pity he felt for the other, so cast down, who seemed to him the counterfeit of the former. But theconsciousness of his kingly duty prevailed over the feelings of the man, and he stretched out his finger to the paper. 

"It must have cost you a great deal of money to carry these plans intoexecution, " said he. 

"I believe I had the honor of telling your majesty the amount. "

"Repeat it if you please, I have forgotten it. "

"Sixteen hundred thousand livres. "

"Sixteen hundred thousand livres! you are enormously rich, monsieur. "

"It is your majesty who is rich, since Belle-Isle is yours. "

"Yes, thank you; but however rich I may be, M. Fouquet----" The kingstopped. 

"Well, sire?" asked the superintendent. 

"I foresee the moment when I shall want money. "

"You, sire? And at what moment, then?"

"To-morrow, for example. "

"Will your majesty do me the honor to explain yourself?"

"My brother is going to marry the English Princess. "

"Well, sire?"

"Well, I ought to give the bride a reception worthy of the granddaughterof Henry IV. "

"That is but just, sire. "

"Then I shall want money. "

"No doubt. "

"I shall want----" Louis hesitated. The sum he was going to demandwas the same that he had been obliged to refuse Charles II. He turnedtowards Colbert, that he might give the blow. 

"I shall want, to-morrow----" repeated he, looking at Colbert. 

"A million, " said the latter, bluntly; delighted to take his revenge. 

Fouquet turned his back upon the intendant to listen to the king. He didnot turn round, but waited till the king repeated, or rather murmured, "A million. "

"Oh! sire, " replied Fouquet disdainfully, "a million! What will yourmajesty do with a million?"

"It appears to me, nevertheless----" said Louis XIV. 

"That is not more than is spent at the nuptials of one of the most pettyprinces of Germany. "

"Monsieur!"

"Your majesty must have two millions at least. The horses alone wouldrun away with five hundred thousand livres. I shall have the honor ofsending your majesty sixteen hundred thousand livres this evening. "

"How, " said the king, "sixteen hundred thousand livres?"

"Look, sire, " replied Fouquet, without even turning towards Colbert, "Iknow that wants four hundred thousand livres of the two millions. Butthis monsieur of l'intendance" (pointing over his shoulder to Colbertwho, if possible, became paler, behind him) "has in his coffers ninehundred thousand livres of mine. "

The king turned round to look at Colbert. 

"But----" said the latter. 

"Monsieur, " continued Fouquet, still speaking indirectly to Colbert, "monsieur has received a week ago sixteen hundred thousand livres; hehas paid a hundred thousand livres to the guards, sixty-four thousandlivres to the hospitals, twenty-five thousand to the Swiss, a hundredand thirty thousand for provisions, a thousand for arms, ten thousandfor accidental expenses; I do not err, then, in reckoning upon ninehundred thousand livres that are left. " Then turning towards Colbert, like a disdainful head of office towards his inferior, "Take care, monsieur, " said he, "that those nine hundred thousand livres be remittedto his majesty this evening, in gold. "

"But, " said the king, "that will make two millions five hundred thousandlivres. "

"Sire, the five hundred thousand livres over will serve as pocket moneyfor his Royal Highness. You understand, Monsieur Colbert, this eveningbefore eight o'clock. "

And with these words, bowing respectfully to the king, thesuperintendent made his exit backwards, without honoring with a singlelook the envious man, whose head he had just half shaved. 

Colbert tore his ruffles to pieces in his rage, and bit his lips tillthey bled. 

Fouquet had not passed the door of the cabinet, when an usher pushing byhim, exclaimed: "A courier from Bretagne for his majesty. "

"M. D'Herblay was right, " murmured Fouquet, pulling out his watch; "anhour and fifty-five minutes. It was quite true. "

CHAPTER 76. In which D'Artagnan finishes by at length placing his Handupon his Captain's Commission

The reader guesses beforehand whom the usher preceded in announcingthe courier from Bretagne. This messenger was easily recognized. It wasD'Artagnan, his clothes dusty, his face inflamed, his hair dripping withsweat, his legs stiff; he lifted his feet painfully at every step, onwhich resounded the clink of his blood-stained spurs. He perceivedin the doorway he was passing through, the superintendent coming out. Fouquet bowed with a smile to him who, an hour before, was bringing himruin and death. D'Artagnan found in his goodness of heart, and in hisinexhaustible vigor of body, enough presence of mind to rememberthe kind reception of this man; he bowed then, also, much more frombenevolence and compassion, than from respect. He felt upon his lips theword which had so many times been repeated to the Duc de Guise: "Fly. "But to pronounce that word would have been to betray his cause; to speakthat word in the cabinet of the king, and before an usher, would havebeen to ruin himself gratuitously, and could save nobody. D'Artagnanthen contented himself with bowing to Fouquet and entered. At thismoment the king floated between the joy the last words of Fouquet hadgiven him, and his pleasure at the return of D'Artagnan. Without being acourtier, D'Artagnan had a glance as sure and as rapid as if he had beenone. He read, on his entrance, devouring humiliation on the countenanceof Colbert. He even heard the king say these words to him;--

"Ah! Monsieur Colbert, you have then nine hundred thousand livres atthe intendance?" Colbert, suffocated, bowed, but made no reply. Allthis scene entered into the mind of D'Artagnan, by the eyes and ears, atonce. 

The first word of Louis to his musketeer, as if he wished it to contrastwith what he was saying at the moment, was a kind "good day. " His secondwas to send away Colbert. The latter left the king's cabinet, pallid andtottering, whilst D'Artagnan twisted up the ends of his mustache. 

"I love to see one of my servants in this disorder, " said the king, admiring the martial stains upon the clothes of his envoy. 

"I thought, sire, my presence at the Louvre was sufficiently urgent toexcuse my presenting myself thus before you. "

"You bring me great news, then, monsieur?"

"Sire, the thing is this, in two words: Belle-Isle is fortified, admirably fortified; Belle-Isle has a double enciete, a citadel, twodetached forts; its ports contain three corsairs; and the side batteriesonly await their cannon. "

"I know all that, monsieur, " replied the king. 

"What! your majesty knows all that?" replied the musketeer, stupefied. 

"I have the plan of the fortifications of Belle-Isle, " said the king. 

"Your majesty has the plan?"

"Here it is. "

"It is really correct, sire: I saw a similar one on the spot. "

D'Artagnan's brow became clouded. 

"Ah! I understand all. Your majesty did not trust to me alone, but sentsome other person, " said he in a reproachful tone. 

"Of what importance is the manner, monsieur, in which I have learnt whatI know, so that I know it?"

"Sire, sire, " said the musketeer, without seeking even to conceal hisdissatisfaction; "but I must be permitted to say to your majesty, thatit is not worth while to make me use such speed, to risk twentytimes the breaking of my neck, to salute me on my arrival withsuch intelligence. Sire, when people are not trusted, or are deemedinsufficient, they should scarcely be employed. " And D'Artagnan, witha movement perfectly military, stamped with his foot, and left upon thefloor dust stained with blood. The king looked at him, inwardly enjoyinghis first triumph. 

"Monsieur, " said he, at the expiration of a minute, "not only isBelle-Isle known to me, but, still further, Belle-Isle is mine. "

"That is well! that is well, sire, I ask but one thing more, " repliedD'Artagnan. --"My discharge. "

"What! your discharge?"

"Without doubt I am too proud to eat the bread of the king withoutearning it, or rather by gaining it badly. --My discharge, sire!"

"Oh, oh!"

"I ask for my discharge, or I will take it. "

"You are angry, monsieur?"

"I have reason, mordioux! Thirty-two hours in the saddle, I ride nightand day, I perform prodigies of speed, I arrive stiff as the corpse of aman who has been hung--and another arrives before me! Come, sire, I am afool!--My discharge, sire!"

"Monsieur d'Artagnan, " said Louis, leaning his white hand upon the dustyarm of the musketeer, "what I tell you will not at all affect that whichI promised you. A king's word given must be kept. " And the king goingstraight to his table, opened a drawer, and took out a folded paper. "Here is your commission of captain of musketeers; you have won it, Monsieur d'Artagnan. "

D'Artagnan opened the paper eagerly, and scanned it twice. He couldscarcely believe his eyes. 

"And this commission is given you, " continued the king, "not only onaccount of your journey to Belle-Isle, but, moreover, for your braveintervention at the Place de Greve. There, likewise, you served mevaliantly. "

"Ah, ah!" said D'Artagnan, without his self-command being able toprevent a blush from mounting to his eyes--"you know that also, sire?"

"Yes, I know it. "

The king possessed a piercing glance and an infallible judgment, when itwas his object to read men's minds. "You have something to say, " saidhe to the musketeer, "something to say which you do not say. Come, speakfreely, monsieur; you know that I told you, once for all, that you areto be always quite frank with me. "

"Well, sire! what I have to say is this, that I would prefer being madecaptain of musketeers for having charged a battery at the head of mycompany, or taken a city, than for causing two wretches to be hung. "

"Is this quite true you tell me?"

"And why should your majesty suspect me of dissimulation, I ask?"

"Because I know you well, monsieur; you cannot repent of having drawnyour sword for me. "

"Well, in that your majesty is deceived, and greatly; yes, I do repentof having drawn my sword on account of the results that action produced;the poor men who were hung, sire, were neither your enemies nor mine;and they could not defend themselves. "

The king preserved silence for a moment. "And your companion, M. D'Artagnan, does he partake of your repentance?"

"My companion?"

"Yes, you were not alone, I have been told. "

"Alone, where?"

"At the Place de Greve. "

"No, sire, no, " said D'Artagnan, blushing at the idea that the kingmight have a suspicion that he, D'Artagnan, had wished to engross tohimself all the glory that belonged to Raoul; "no, mordioux! and as yourmajesty says, I had a companion, and a good companion, too. "

"A young man?"

"Yes, sire; a young man. Oh! your majesty must accept my compliments, you are as well informed of things out of doors as things within. It isM. Colbert who makes all these fine reports to the king. "

"M. Colbert has said nothing but good of you, M. D'Artagnan, and hewould have met with a bad reception if he had come to tell me anythingelse. "

"That is fortunate!"

"But he also said much good of that young man. "

"And with justice, " said the musketeer. 

"In short, it appears that this young man is a fire-eater, " said Louis, in order to sharpen the sentiment which he mistook for envy. 

"A fire-eater! Yes, sire, " repeated D'Artagnan, delighted on his part todirect the king's attention to Raoul. 

"Do you not know his name?"

"Well, I think----"

"You know him then?"

"I have known him nearly five-and-twenty years, sire. "

"Why, he is scarcely twenty-five years old!" cried the king. 

"Well, sire! I have known him ever since he was born, that is all. "

"Do you affirm that?"

"Sire, " said D'Artagnan, "your majesty questions me with a mistrust inwhich I recognize another character than your own. M. Colbert, who hasso well informed you, has he not forgotten to tell you that this youngman is the son of my most intimate friend?"

"The Vicomte de Bragelonne?"

"Certainly, sire. The father of the Vicomte de Bragelonne is M. LeComte de la Fere, who so powerfully assisted in the restoration of kingCharles II. Bragelonne comes of a valiant race, sire. "

"Then he is the son of that nobleman who came to me, or rather to M. Mazarin, on the part of King Charles II. , to offer me his alliance?"

"Exactly, sire. "

"And the Comte de la Fere is a great soldier, say you?"

"Sire, he is a man who has drawn his sword more times for the king, yourfather, than there are, at present, months in the happy life of yourmajesty. "

It was Louis XIV. Who now bit his lip. 

"That is well, M. D'Artagnan, very well! And M. Le Comte de la Fere isyour friend, say you?"

"For about forty years; yes, sire. Your majesty may see that I do notspeak to you of yesterday. "

"Should you be glad to see this young man, M. D'Artagnan?"

"Delighted, sire. "

The king touched his bell, and an usher appeared. "Call M. DeBragelonne, " said the king. 

"Ah! ah! he is here?" said D'Artagnan. 

"He is on guard to-day, at the Louvre, with the company of the gentlemenof monsieur le prince. "

The king had scarcely ceased speaking, when Raoul presented himself, and, on seeing D'Artagnan, smiled on him with that charming smile whichis only found upon the lips of youth. 

"Come, come, " said D'Artagnan, familiarly, to Raoul, "the king willallow you to embrace me; only tell his majesty you thank him. "

Raoul bowed so gracefully, that Louis, to whom all superior qualitieswere pleasing when they did not overshadow his own, admired his beauty, strength and modesty. 

"Monsieur, " said the king, addressing Raoul, "I have asked monsieurle prince to be kind enough to give you up to me; I have received hisreply, and you belong to me from this morning. Monsieur le prince was agood master, but I hope you will not lose by the exchange. "

"Yes, yes, Raoul, be satisfied; the king has some good in him, " saidD'Artagnan, who had fathomed the character of Louis, and who playedwith his self-love, within certain limits; always observing, be itunderstood, the proprieties and flattering, even when he appeared to bebantering. 

"Sire, " said Bragelonne, with a voice soft and musical, and with thenatural and easy elocution he inherited from his father, "sire, it isnot from to-day that I belong to your majesty. "

"Oh! no, I know, " said the king, "you mean your enterprise of the Greve. That day, you were truly mine, monsieur. "

"Sire, it is not of that day I would speak; it would not become meto refer to so paltry a service in the presence of such a man as M. D'Artagnan. I would speak of a circumstance which created an epoch in mylife, and which consecrated me, from the age of sixteen, to the devotedservice of your majesty. "

"Ah! ah!" said the king, "what was that circumstance? Tell me, monsieur. "

"This is it, sire. --When I was setting out on my first campaign, that isto say, to join the army of monsieur le prince, M. Le Comte de la Ferecame to conduct me as far as Saint-Denis, where the remains of KingLouis XIII. Wait, upon the lowest steps of the funeral basilique, asuccessor, whom God will not send him, I hope, for many years. Thenhe made me swear upon the ashes of our masters, to serve royalty, represented by you--incarnate in you, sire--to serve it in word, inthought, and in action. I swore, and God and the dead were witnesses tomy oath. During ten years, sire, I have not so often as I desired hadoccasion to keep it. I am a soldier of your majesty, and nothing else;and, on calling me nearer to you, I do not change my master, I onlychange my garrison. "

Raoul was silent, and bowed. Louis still listened after he had donespeaking. 

"Mordioux!" cried D'Artagnan, "that was well spoken! was it not, yourmajesty? A good race! a noble race!"

"Yes, " murmured the agitated king, without, however, daring to manifesthis emotion, for it had no other cause than contact with a natureintrinsically noble. "Yes, monsieur, you say truly:--wherever you were, you were the king's. But in changing your garrison, believe me you willfind an advancement of which you are worthy. "

Raoul saw that this ended what the king had to say to him. And withthe perfect tact which characterized his refined nature, he bowed andretired. 

"Is there anything else, monsieur, of which you have to inform me?" saidthe king, when he found himself again alone with D'Artagnan. 

"Yes, sire, and I kept that news for the last, for it is sad, and willclothe European royalty in mourning. "

"What do you tell me?"

"Sire, in passing through Blois, a word, a sad word, echoed from thepalace, struck my ear. "

"In truth, you terrify me, M. D'Artagnan. "

"Sire, this word was pronounced to me by a piqueur, who wore crape onhis arm. "

"My uncle, Gaston of Orleans, perhaps. "

"Sire, he has rendered his last sigh. "

"And I was not warned of it!" cried the king, whose royal susceptibilitysaw an insult in the absence of this intelligence. 

"Oh! do not be angry, sire, " said D'Artagnan; "neither the couriersof Paris, nor the couriers of the whole world, can travel with yourservant; the courier from Blois will not be here these two hours, and herides well, I assure you, seeing that I only passed him on the thitherside of Orleans. "

"My uncle Gaston, " murmured Louis, pressing his hand to his brow, andcomprising in those three words all that his memory recalled of thatsymbol of opposing sentiments. 

"Eh! yes, sire, it is thus, " said D'Artagnan, philosophically replyingto the royal thought, "it is thus the past flies away. "

"That is true, monsieur, that is true; but there remains for us, thankGod! the future; and we will try to make it not too dark. "

"I feel confidence in your majesty on that head, " said D'Artagnan, bowing, "and now----"

"You are right, monsieur; I had forgotten the hundred leagues you havejust ridden. Go, monsieur, take care of one of the best of soldiers, andwhen you have reposed a little, come and place yourself at my disposal. "

"Sire, absent or present, I am always yours. "

D'Artagnan bowed and retired. Then, as if he had only come fromFontainebleau, he quickly traversed the Louvre to rejoin Bragelonne. 

CHAPTER 77. A Lover and his Mistress

Whilst the wax-lights were burning in the castle of Blois, around theinanimate body of Gaston of Orleans, that last representative of thepast; whilst the bourgeois of the city were thinking out his epitaph, which was far from being a panegyric; whilst madame the dowager, nolonger remembering that in her young days she had loved that senselesscorpse to such a degree as to fly the paternal palace for his sake, was making, within twenty paces of the funeral apartment, her littlecalculations of interest and her little sacrifices of pride; otherinterests and other prides were in agitation in all the parts of thecastle into which a living soul could penetrate. Neither the lugubrioussounds of the bells, nor the voices of the chanters, nor the splendor ofthe waxlights through the windows, nor the preparations for the funeral, had power to divert the attention of two persons, placed at a windowof the interior court---a window that we are acquainted with, andwhich lighted a chamber forming part of what were called the littleapartments. For the rest, a joyous beam of the sun, for the sun appearedto care little for the loss France had just suffered; a sunbeam, we say, descended upon them, drawing perfumes from the neighboring flowers, andanimating the walls themselves. These two persons, so occupied, not bythe death of the duke, but by the conversation which was the consequenceof that death, were a young woman and a young man. The latter personage, a man of from twenty-five to twenty-six years of age, with a miensometimes lively and sometimes dull, making good use of two large eyes, shaded with long eye-lashes, was short of stature and swart of skin; hesmiled with an enormous, but well-furnished mouth, and his pointed chin, which appeared to enjoy a mobility nature does not ordinarily grant tothat portion of the countenance, leant from time to time very lovinglytowards his interlocutrix, who, we must say did not always draw back sorapidly as strict propriety had a right to require. The young girl--weknow her, for we have already seen her, at that very same window by thelight of that same sun--the young girl presented a singular mixture ofshyness and reflection; she was charming when she laughed, beautifulwhen she became serious; but, let us hasten to say, she was morefrequently charming than beautiful. These two appeared to have attainedthe culminating point of a discussion--half-bantering, half-serious. 

"Now, Monsieur Malicorne, " said the young girl, "does it, at length, please you that we should talk reasonably?"

"You believe that that is very easy, Mademoiselle Aure, " repliedthe young man. "To do what we like, when we can only do what we areable----"

"Good! there he is bewildered in his phrases. "

"Who, I?"

"Yes, you quit that lawyer's logic, my dear. "

"Another impossibility. Clerk I am, Mademoiselle de Montalais. "

"Demoiselle I am, Monsieur Malicorne. "

"Alas, I know it well, and you overwhelm me by your rank; so I will sayno more to you. "

"Well, no, I don't overwhelm you; say what you have to tell me--say--it, I insist upon it. "

"Well, I obey you. "

"That is truly fortunate. "

"Monsieur is dead. "

"Ah, peste! there's news! And where do you come from, to be able to tellus that?"

"I come from Orleans, mademoiselle. "

"And is that all the news you bring?"

"Ah, no; I am come to tell you that Madame Henrietta of England iscoming to marry the king's brother. "

"Indeed, Malicorne, you are insupportable with your news of the lastcentury. Now, mind, if you persist in this bad habit of laughing atpeople, I will have you turned out. "

"Oh!"

"Yes; for really you exasperate me. "

"There, there. Patience, mademoiselle. "

"You want to make yourself of consequence; I know well enough why. Go!"

"Tell me, and I will answer you frankly, yes, if the thing be true. "

"You know that I am anxious to have that commission of lady of honor, which I have been foolish enough to ask of you, and you do not use yourcredit. "

"Who, I?" Malicorne cast down his eyes, joined his hands, and assumedhis sullen air. "And what credit can the poor clerk of a procurer have, pray?"

"Your father has not twenty thousand livres a year for nothing, M. Malicorne. "

"A provincial fortune, Mademoiselle de Montalais. "

"Your father is not in the secrets of monsieur le prince for nothing. "

"An advantage which is confined to lending monseigneur money. "

"In a word, you are not the most cunning young fellow in the provincefor nothing. "

"You flatter me "

"Who, I?"

"Yes, you. "

"How so?"

"Since I maintain that I have no credit, and you maintain I have. "

"Well, then, --my commission?"

"Well, --your commission?"

"Shall I have it, or shall I not?"

"You shall have it. "

"Ay, but when?"

"When you like. "

"Where is it, then?"

"In my pocket. "

"How--in your pocket?"

"Yes. "

And, with a smile, Malicorne drew from his pocket a letter, upon whichmademoiselle seized as a prey, and which she read eagerly. As she read, her face brightened. 

"Malicorne, " cried she, after having read it, "in truth, you are a goodlad. "

"What for, mademoiselle?"

"Because you might have been paid for this commission, and you havenot. " And she burst into a loud laugh, thinking to put the clerk out ofcountenance; but Malicorne sustained the attack bravely. 

"I do not understand you, " said he. It was now Montalais who wasdisconcerted in her turn. "I have declared my sentiments to you, "continued Malicorne. "You have told me three times, laughing all thewhile, that you did not love me; you have embraced me once withoutlaughing, and that is all I want. "

"All?" said the proud and coquettish Montalais, in a tone through whichwounded pride was visible. 

"Absolutely all, mademoiselle, " replied Malicorne. 

"Ah!"--And this monosyllable indicated as much anger as the young manmight have expected gratitude. He shook his head quietly. 

"Listen, Montalais, " said he, without heeding whether that familiaritypleased his mistress or not; "let us not dispute about it. "

"And why not?"

"Because during the year which I have known you, you might have had meturned out of doors twenty times if I did not please you. "

"Indeed; and on what account should I have had you turned out?"

"Because I had been sufficiently impertinent for that. "

"Oh, that, --yes, that's true. "

"You see plainly that you are forced to avow it, " said Malicorne. 

"Monsieur Malicorne!"

"Don't let us be angry; if you have retained me, then it has not beenwithout cause. "

"It is not, at least, because I love you, " cried Montalais. 

"Granted. I will even say that, at this moment, I am certain that youhate me. "

"Oh, you have never spoken so truly. "

"Well, on my part I detest you. "

"Ah! I take the act. "

"Take it. You find me brutal and foolish; on my part I find you have aharsh voice, and your face is too often distorted with anger. At thismoment you would allow yourself to be thrown out of that window ratherthan allow me to kiss the tip of your finger; I would precipitate myselffrom the top of the balcony rather than touch the hem of your robe. But, in five minutes, you will love me, and I shall adore you. Oh, it is justso. "

"I doubt it. "

"And I swear it. "

"Coxcomb!"

"And then, that is not the true reason. You stand in need of me, Aure, and I of you. When it pleases you to be gay, I make you laugh; when itsuits me to be loving, I look at you. I have given you a commissionof lady of honor which you wished for; you will give me, presently, something I wish for. "

"I will?"

"Yes, you will; but, at this moment, my dear Aure, I declare to you thatI wish for absolutely nothing, so be at ease. "

"You are a frightful man, Malicorne; I was going to rejoice at gettingthis commission, and thus you quench my joy. "

"Good; there is no time lost, --you will rejoice when I am gone. "

"Go, then; and after----"

"So be it; but in the first place, a piece of advice. "

"What is it?"

"Resume your good-humor, --you are ugly when you pout. "

"Coarse!"

"Come, let us tell the truth to each other, while we are about it. "

"Oh, Malicorne! Bad-hearted man!"

"Oh, Montalais! Ungrateful girl!"

The young man leant with his elbow upon the window-frame; Montalaistook a book and opened it. Malicorne stood up, brushed his hat with hissleeve; smoothed down his black doublet, --Montalais, though pretendingto read, looked at him out of the corner of her eye. 

"Good!" cried she, furious, "he has assumed his respectful air--and hewill pout for a week. "

"A fortnight, mademoiselle, " said Malicorne, bowing. 

Montalais lifted up her little doubled fist. "Monster!" said she; "oh!that I were a man!"

"What would you do to me?"

"I would strangle you. "

"Ah! very well, then, " said Malicorne; "I believe I begin to desiresomething. "

"And what do you desire, Monsieur Demon? That I should lose my soul fromanger?"

Malicorne was rolling his hat respectfully between his fingers; but, allat once, he let fall his hat, seized the young girl by the shoulders, pulled her towards him and sealed her mouth with two lips that werevery warm, for a man pretending to so much indifference. Aure would havecried out, but the cry was stifled in the kiss. Nervous and, apparently, angry, the young girl pushed Malicorne against the wall. 

"Good!" said Malicorne, philosophically, "that's enough for six weeks. Adieu, mademoiselle, accept my very humble salutation. " And he madethree steps towards the door. 

"Well! no, --you shall not go!" cried, Montalais, stamping with herlittle foot. "Stay where you are! I order you!"

"You order me?"

"Yes; am I not mistress?"

"Of my heart and soul, without doubt. "

"A pretty property! ma foi! The soul is silly and the heart dry. "

"Beware, Montalais, I know you, " said Malicorne; "you are going to fallin love with your humble servant. "

"Well, yes!" said she, hanging round his neck with childish indolence, rather than with loving abandonment. "Well, yes! for I must thank you atleast. "

"And for what?"

"For the commission, is it not my whole future?"

"And mine. "

Montalais looked at him. 

"It is frightful, " said she, "that one can never guess whether you arespeaking seriously or not. "

"I cannot speak more seriously. I was going to Paris, --you are goingthere, --we are going there. "

"And so it was for that motive only you have served me, selfish fellow!"

"What would you have me say, Aure? I cannot live without you. "

"Well! in truth, it is just so with me; you are, nevertheless, it mustbe confessed, a very bad-hearted young man. "

"Aure, my dear Aure, take care! if you take to calling names again, youknow the effect they produce upon me, and I shall adore you. " And sosaying, Malicorne drew the young girl a second time towards him. But atthat instant a step resounded on the staircase. The young people were soclose, that they would have been surprised in the arms of each other, ifMontalais had not violently pushed Malicorne, with his back againstthe door, just then opening. A loud cry, followed by angry reproaches, immediately resounded. It was Madame de Saint-Remy who uttered the cryand the angry words. The unlucky Malicorne almost crushed her betweenthe wall and the door she was coming in at. 

"It is again that good-for-nothing!" cried the old lady. "Always here!"

"Ah, madame!" replied Malicorne, in a respectful tone; "it is eight longdays since I was here. "

CHAPTER 78. In which we at length see the true Heroine of this Historyappear

Behind Madame de Saint-Remy stood Mademoiselle de la Valliere. She heardthe explosion of maternal anger, and as she divined the cause of it, she entered the chamber trembling, and perceived the unlucky Malicorne, whose woeful countenance might have softened or set laughing whoeverobserved it coolly. He had promptly intrenched himself behind a largechair, as if to avoid the first attacks of Madame de Saint-Remy; he hadno hopes of prevailing with words, for she spoke louder than he, andwithout stopping; but he reckoned upon the eloquence of his gestures. The old lady would neither listen to nor see anything; Malicorne hadlong been one of her antipathies. But her anger was too great not tooverflow from Malicorne on his accomplice. Montalais had her turn. 

"And you, mademoiselle; you may be certain I shall inform madame of whatis going on in the apartment of one of her ladies of honor!"

"Oh, dear mother!" cried Mademoiselle de la Valliere, "for mercy's sake, spare----"

"Hold your tongue, mademoiselle, and do not uselessly trouble yourselfto intercede for unworthy people; that a young maid of honor like youshould be subjected to a bad example is, certes, a misfortune greatenough; but that you should sanction it by your indulgence is what Iwill not allow. "

"But in truth, " said Montalais, rebelling again, "I do not know underwhat pretense you treat me thus. I am doing no harm, I suppose?"

"And that great good-for-nothing, mademoiselle, " resumed Madame deSaint-Remy, pointing to Malicorne, "is he here to do any good, I askyou?"

"He is neither here for good nor harm, madame; he comes to see me, thatis all. "

"It is all very well! all very well!" said the old lady. "Her royalhighness shall be informed of it, and she will judge. "

"At all events, I do not see why, " replied Montalais, "it should beforbidden M. Malicorne to have intentions towards me, if his intentionsare honorable. "

"Honorable intentions with such a face!" cried Madame de Saint-Remy. 

"I thank you in the name of my face, madame, " said Malicorne. 

"Come, my daughter, come, " continued Madame de Saint-Remy; "we willgo and inform madame that at the very moment she is weeping for herhusband, at the moment when we are all weeping for a master in thisold castle of Blois, the abode of grief, there are people who amusethemselves with flirtations!"

"Oh!" cried both the accused, with one voice. 

"A maid of honor! a maid of honor!" cried the old lady, lifting herhands towards heaven. 

"Well! it is there you are mistaken, madame, " said Montalais, highlyexasperated; "I am no longer a maid of honor, of madame's at least. "

"Have you given in your resignation, mademoiselle? That is well! Icannot but applaud such a determination, and I do applaud it. "

"I do not give in my resignation, madame; I take another service, --thatis all. "

"In the bourgeoisie or in the robe?" asked Madame de Saint-Remy, disdainfully. 

"Please to learn, madame, that I am not a girl to serve eitherbourgeoises or robines, and that instead of the miserable court at whichyou vegetate, I am going to reside in a court almost royal. "

"Ha, ha! a royal court, " said Madame de Saint-Remy, forcing a laugh; "aroyal court! What think you of that, my daughter?"

And she turned round towards Mademoiselle de la Valliere, whom she wouldby main force have dragged away from Montalais, and who, instead ofobeying the impulse of Madame de Saint-Remy, looked first at her motherand then at Montalais with her beautiful conciliatory eyes. 

"I did not say a royal court, madame, " replied Montalais; "becauseMadame Henrietta of England, who is about to become the wife of S. A. R. Monsieur, is not a queen. I said almost royal, and I spoke correctly, since she will be sister-in-law to the king. "

A thunderbolt falling upon the castle of Blois would not have astonishedMadame de Saint-Remy more than the last sentence of Montalais. 

"What do you say? of Son Altesse Royale Madame Henrietta?" stammered outthe old lady. 

"I say I am going to belong to her household, as maid of honor, that iswhat I say. "

"As maid of honor!" cried, at the same time, Madame de Saint-Remy withdespair, and Mademoiselle de la Valliere with delight. 

"Yes, madame, as maid of honor. "

The old lady's head sank down as if the blow had been too severe forher. But, almost immediately recovering herself, she launched a lastprojectile at her adversary. 

"Oh! oh!" said she, "I have heard of many of these sorts of promisesbeforehand, which often lead people to flatter themselves with wildhopes, and at the last moment, when the time comes to keep the promises, and have the hopes realized, they are surprised to see the great creditupon which they reckoned vanish like smoke. "

"Oh! madame, the credit of my protector is incontestable and hispromises are as good as deeds. "

"And would it be indiscreet to ask you the name of this powerfulprotector?"

"Oh! mon Dieu! no! it is that gentleman there, " said Montalais, pointing to Malicorne, who, during this scene, had preserved the mostimperturbable coolness, and the most comic dignity. 

"Monsieur!" cried Madame de Saint-Remy, with an explosion of hilarity, "monsieur is your protector! Is the man whose credit is so powerful, andwhose promises are as good as deeds, Monsieur Malicorne?"

Malicorne bowed. 

As to Montalais, as her sole reply, she drew the brevet from her pocket, and showed it to the old lady. 

"Here is the brevet, " said she. 

At once all was over. As soon as she had cast a rapid glance overthis fortunate brevet, the good lady clasped her hands, an unspeakableexpression of envy and despair contracted her countenance, and shewas obliged to sit down to avoid fainting. Montalais was not maliciousenough to rejoice extravagantly at her victory, or to overwhelm theconquered enemy, particularly when that enemy was the mother of herfriend; she used then, but did not abuse, her triumph. Malicorne wasless generous; he assumed noble poses in his fauteuil, and stretchedhimself out with a familiarity which, two hours earlier, would havedrawn upon him threats of a caning. 

"Maid of honor to the young madame!" repeated Madame de Saint-Remy, still but half convinced. 

"Yes, madame, and through the protection of M. Malicorne, moreover. "

"It is incredible!" repeated the old lady: "is it not incredible, Louise?" But Louise did not reply; she was sitting, thoughtful, almostsad; passing one hand over her beautiful brow she sighed heavily. 

"Well, but, monsieur, " said Madame de Saint-Remy, all at once, "how didyou manage to obtain this post?"

"I asked for it, madame. "

"Of whom?"

"One of my friends. "

"And have you friends sufficiently powerful at court to give you suchproofs of their credit?"

"It appears so. "

"And may one ask the name of these friends?"

"I did not say I had many friends, madame, I said I had one friend. "

"And that friend is called?"

"Peste! madame, you go too far! When one has a friend as powerful asmine, we do not publish his name in that fashion, in open day, in orderthat he may be stolen from us. "

"You are right, monsieur, to be silent as to that name; for I think itwould be pretty difficult for you to tell it. "

"At all events, " said Montalais, "if the friend does not exist, thebrevet does, and that cuts short the question. "

"Then, I conceive, " said Madame de Saint-Remy, with the gracious smileof the cat who is going to scratch, "when I found monsieur here justnow----"

"Well?"

"He brought you the brevet. "

"Exactly, madame, you have guessed rightly. "

"Well, then, nothing can be more moral or proper. "

"I think so, madame. "

"And I have been wrong, as it appears, in reproaching you, mademoiselle. "

"Very wrong, madame; but I am so accustomed to your reproaches, that Ipardon you these. "

"In that case, let us begone, Louise; we have nothing to do but toretire. Well!"

"Madame!" said La Valliere, starting, "did you speak?"

"You do not appear to be listening, my child. "

"No, madame, I was thinking. "

"About what?"

"A thousand things. "

"You bear me no ill-will, at least, Louise?" cried Montalais, pressingher hand. 

"And why should I, my dear Aure?" replied the girl in a voice soft as aflute. 

"Dame!" resumed Madame de Saint-Remy; "if she did bear you a littleill-will, poor girl, she could not be much blamed. "

"And why should she bear me ill-will, good gracious?"

"It appears to me that she is of as good a family, and as pretty asyou. "

"Mother! mother!" cried Louise. 

"Prettier a hundred times, madame--not of a better family; but that doesnot tell me why Louise should bear me ill-will. "

"Do you think it will be very amusing for her to be buried alive atBlois, when you are going to shine at Paris?"

"But, madame, it is not I who prevent Louise following me thither; onthe contrary, I should certainly be most happy if she came there. "

"But it appears that M. Malicorne, who is all-powerful at court----"

"Ah! so much the worse, madame, " said Malicorne, "every one for himselfin this poor world. "

"Malicorne! Malicorne!" said Montalais. Then stooping towards the youngman:--

"Occupy Madame de Saint-Remy, either in disputing with her, or makingit up with her; I must speak to Louise. " And, at the same time, a softpressure of the hand recompensed Malicorne for his future obedience. Malicorne went grumbling towards Madame de Saint-Remy, whilst Montalaissaid to her friend, throwing one arm around her neck:--

"What is the matter? Tell me. Is it true that you would not love me if Iwere to shine, as your mother says?"

"Oh, no!" said the young girl, with difficulty restraining her tears;"on the contrary, I rejoice at your good fortune. "

"Rejoice! why, one would say you are ready to cry!"

"Do people never weep except from envy?"

"Oh! yes, I understand; I am going to Paris, and that word Paris recallsto your mind a certain cavalier----"

"Aure!"

"A certain cavalier who formerly lived near Blois, and who now residesat Paris. "

"In truth, I know not what ails me, but I feel stifled. "

"Weep, then, weep, as you cannot give me a smile!"

Louise raised her sweet face, which the tears, rolling down one afterthe other, illumined like diamonds. 

"Come, confess, " said Montalais. 

"What shall I confess?"

"What makes you weep; people don't weep without cause. I am your friend;whatever you would wish me to do, I will do. Malicorne is more powerfulthan you would think. Do you wish to go to Paris?"

"Alas!" sighed Louise. 

"Do you wish to come to Paris?"

"To remain here alone, in this old castle, I who have enjoyed thedelightful habit of listening to your songs, of pressing your hand, ofrunning about the park with you. Oh! how I shall be ennuyee! how quicklyI shall die!"

"Do you wish to come to Paris?"

Louise breathed another sigh. 

"You do not answer me. "

"What would you that I should reply?"

"Yes or no; that is not very difficult I think. "

"Oh! you are very fortunate, Montalais!"

"That is to say you would like to be in my place. "

Louise was silent. 

"Little obstinate thing!" said Montalais; "did ever any one keep hersecrets from her friend thus? But confess that you would like to come toParis, confess that you are dying with the wish to see Raoul again?"

"I cannot confess that. "

"Then you are wrong. "

"In what way?"

"Because----do you see this brevet?"

"To be sure I do. "

"Well, I would have got you a similar one. "

"By whose means?"

"Malicorne's. "

"Aure, are you telling the truth? Is that possible?"

"Malicorne is there; and what he has done for me, he surely can do foryou. "

Malicorne had heard his name pronounced twice; he was delightedat having an opportunity of coming to a conclusion with Madame deSaint-Remy, and he turned round:--

"What is the question, mademoiselle?"

"Come hither, Malicorne, " said Montalais, with an imperious gesture. Malicorne obeyed. 

"A brevet like this, " said Montalais. 

"How so?"

"A brevet like this; that is plain enough. 

"But----"

"I want one--I must have one!"

"Oh! oh! you must have one!"

"Yes. "

"It is impossible, is it not, M. Malicorne?" said Louise, with hersweet, soft voice. 

"If it is for you, mademoiselle----"

"For me. Yes, Monsieur Malicorne, it would be for me. "

"And if Mademoiselle de Montalais asks it at the same time----"

"Mademoiselle de Montalais does not ask it, she requires it. "

"Well! we will endeavor to obey you, mademoiselle. "

"And you will have her named?"

"We will try. "

"No evasive answers. Louise de la Valliere shall be maid of honor toMadame Henrietta within a week. "

"How you talk!"

"Within a week, or else----"

"Well! or else?"

"You may take back your brevet, Monsieur Malicorne; I will not leave myfriend. "

"Dear Montalais!"

"That is right. Keep your brevet, Mademoiselle de la Valliere shall be amaid of honor. "

"Is that true?"

"Quite true. "

"I may then hope to go to Paris?"

"Depend upon it. "

"Oh! Monsieur Malicorne, what joy!" cried Louise, clapping her hands, and bounding with pleasure. 

"Little dissembler!" said Montalais, "try again to make me believe youare not in love with Raoul. "

Louise blushed like a rose in June, but instead of replying, she ran andembraced her mother. "Madame, " said she, "do you know that M. Malicorneis going to have me appointed maid of honor?"

"M. Malicorne is a prince in disguise, " replied the old lady, "he isall-powerful, seemingly. "

"Should you also like to be maid of honor?" asked Malicorne of Madamede Saint-Remy. "Whilst I am about it, I might as well get everybodyappointed. "

And upon that he went away, leaving the poor lady quite disconcerted. 

"Humph!" murmured Malicorne as he descended the stairs, --"Humph! theregoes another note of a thousand livres! but I must get through as wellas I can; my friend Manicamp does nothing for nothing. "

CHAPTER 79. Malicorne and Manicamp

The introduction of these two new personages into this history and thatmysterious affinity of names and sentiments, merit some attention on thepart of both historian and reader. We will then enter into some detailsconcerning Messieurs Malicorne and Manicamp. Malicorne we know, had madethe journey to Orleans in search of the brevet destined for Mademoisellede Montalais, the arrival of which had produced such a strong feelingat the castle of Blois. At that moment, M. De Manicamp was at Orleans. A singular person was this M. De Manicamp; a very intelligent youngfellow, always poor, always needy, although he dipped his hand freelyinto the purse of M. Le Comte de Guiche, one of the best furnishedpurses of the period. M. Le Comte de Guiche had had, as the companionof his boyhood, this De Manicamp, a poor gentleman, vassal-born, of thehouse of Grammont. M. De Manicamp, with his tact and talent, had createdhimself a revenue in the opulent family of the celebrated marechal. Fromhis infancy he had, with calculation beyond his age, lent his nameand complaisance to the follies of the Comte de Guiche. If his noblecompanion had stolen some fruit destined for Madame la Marechale, if hehad broken a mirror, or put out a dog's eye, Manicamp declared himselfguilty of the crime committed, and received the punishment, which wasnot made the milder for falling on the innocent. But this was the waythis system of abnegation was paid for: instead of wearing such meanhabiliments as his paternal fortunes entitled him to, he was able toappear brilliant, superb, like a young noble of fifty thousand livres ayear. It was not that he was mean in character or humble in spirit; no, he was a philosopher, or rather he had the indifference, the apathy, theobstinacy which banish from man every sentiment of the supernatural. Hissole ambition was to spend money. But, in this respect, the worthy M. DeManicamp was a gulf. Three or four times every year he drained the Comtede Guiche, and when the Comte de Guiche was thoroughly drained, when hehad turned out his pockets and his purse before him, when he declaredthat it would be at least a fortnight before paternal munificence wouldrefill those pockets and that purse, Manicamp lost all his energy, hewent to bed, remained there, ate nothing and sold his handsome clothes, under the pretense that, remaining in bed, he did not want them. Duringthis prostration of mind and strength, the purse of the Comte de Guichewas getting full again, and when once filled, overflowed into that of DeManicamp, who bought new clothes, dressed himself again, and recommencedthe same life he had followed before. The mania of selling his newclothes for a quarter of what they were worth had rendered our herosufficiently celebrated in Orleans, a city where, in general, we shouldbe puzzled to say why he came to pass his days of penitence. Provincialdebauches, petits-maitres of six hundred livres a year, shared thefragments of his opulence. 

Among the admirers of these splendid toilettes, our friend Malicornewas conspicuous; he was the son of a syndic of the city, of whom M. De Conde, always needy as a De Conde, often borrowed money at enormousinterest. M. Malicorne kept the paternal money-chest; that is tosay, that in those times of easy morals, he had made for himself, byfollowing the example of his father, and lending at high interest forshort terms, a revenue of eighteen hundred livres, without reckoningsix hundred livres furnished by the generosity of the syndic, so thatMalicorne was the king of the gay youth of Orleans, having two thousandfour hundred livres to scatter, squander, and waste on follies of everykind. But, quite contrary to Manicamp, Malicorne was terribly ambitious. He loved from ambition; he spent money out of ambition; and he wouldhave ruined himself for ambition. Malicorne had determined to rise, atwhatever price it might cost, and for this, at whatever price it didcost, he had given himself a mistress and a friend. The mistress, Mademoiselle de Montalais, was cruel as regarded love; but she was ofa noble family, and that was sufficient for Malicorne. The friend hadlittle or no friendship, but he was the favorite of the Comte deGuiche, himself the friend of Monsieur, the king's brother, and that wassufficient for Malicorne. Only, in the chapter of charges, Mademoisellede Montalais cost per annum:--ribbons, gloves, and sweets, a thousandlivres. De Manicamp cost--money lent, never returned--from twelve tofifteen hundred livres per annum. So that there was nothing left forMalicorne. Ah! yes, we are mistaken; there was left the paternal strongbox. He employed a mode of proceeding, upon which he preserved the mostprofound secrecy, and which consisted in advancing to himself from thecoffers of the syndic, half a dozen year's profits, that is to say, fifteen thousand livres, swearing to himself--observe, quite tohimself--to repay this deficiency as soon as an opportunity shouldpresent itself. 

The opportunity was expected to be the concession of a good post in thehousehold of Monsieur, when that household would be established at theperiod of his marriage. This juncture had arrived, and the household wasabout to be established. A good post in the family of a prince of theblood, when it is given by the credit, and on the recommendation ofa friend, like the Comte de Guiche, is worth at least twelve thousandlivres per annum; and by the means which M. Malicorne had taken tomake his revenues fructify, twelve thousand livres might rise to twentythousand. Then, when once an incumbent of this post, he would marryMademoiselle de Montalais. Mademoiselle de Montalais, of a half noblefamily, not only would be dowered, but would ennoble Malicorne. But, inorder that Mademoiselle de Montalais, who had not a large patrimonialfortune, although an only daughter, should be suitably dowered, it wasnecessary that she should belong to some great princess, as prodigal asthe dowager Madame was covetous. And in order that the wife should notbe of one party whilst the husband belonged to the other, a situationwhich presents serious inconveniences, particularly with characters likethose of the future consorts--Malicorne had imagined the idea ofmaking the central point of union the household of Monsieur, the king'sbrother. Mademoiselle de Montalais would be maid of honor to Madame. M. Malicorne would be officer to Monsieur. 

It is plain the plan was formed by a clear head; it is plain, also, that it had been bravely executed. Malicorne had asked Manicamp to ask abrevet of maid of honor of the Comte de Guiche; and the Comte de Guichehad asked this brevet of Monsieur, who had signed it without hesitation. The constructive plan of Malicorne--for we may well suppose thatthe combinations of a mind as active as his were not confined to thepresent, but extended to the future--the constructive plan of Malicorne, we say, was this:--To obtain entrance into the household of MadameHenrietta for a woman devoted to himself, who was intelligent, young, handsome, and intriguing; to learn, by means of this woman, all thefeminine secrets of the young household, whilst he, Malicorne, and hisfriend Manicamp, should, between them, know all the male secrets of theyoung community. It was by these means that a rapid and splendid fortunemight be acquired at one and the same time. Malicorne was a vile name;he who bore it had too much wit to conceal this truth from himself; butan estate might be purchased; and Malicorne of some place, or even DeMalicorne itself, for short, would ring more nobly on the ear. 

It was not improbable that a most aristocratic origin might be hunted upby the heralds for this name of Malicorne; might it not come from someestate where a bull with mortal horns had caused some great misfortune, and baptized the soil with the blood it had spilt? Certes, this planpresented itself bristling with difficulties: but the greatest of allwas Mademoiselle de Montalais herself. Capricious, variable, close, giddy, free, prudish, a virgin armed with claws, Erigone stained withgrapes, she sometimes overturned, with a single dash of her whitefingers, or with a single puff from her laughing lips, the edifice whichhad exhausted Malicorne's patience for a month. 

Love apart, Malicorne was happy; but this love, which he could not helpfeeling, he had the strength to conceal with care; persuaded that at thelest relaxing of the ties by which he had bound his Protean female, thedemon would overthrow him and laugh at him. He humbled his mistress bydisdaining her. Burning with desire, when she advanced to tempt him, he had the art to appear ice, persuaded that if he opened his arms, shewould run away laughing at him. On her side, Montalais believed shedid not love Malicorne; whilst, on the contrary, in reality she did. Malicorne repeated to her so often his protestation of indifference, that she finished sometimes, by believing him; and then she believedshe detested Malicorne. If she tried to bring him back by coquetry, Malicorne played the coquette better than she could. But what madeMontalais hold to Malicorne in an indissoluble fashion, was thatMalicorne always came cram full of fresh news from the court and thecity; Malicorne always brought to Blois a fashion, a secret, or aperfume; that Malicorne never asked for a meeting, but, on the contrary, required to be supplicated to receive the favors he burned to obtain. On her side Montalais was no miser with stories. By her means Malicornelearnt all that passed at Blois, in the family of the dowager Madame;and he related to Manicamp tales that made him ready to die withlaughing, which the latter, out of idleness, took ready-made to M. DeGuiche, who carried them to Monsieur. 

Such, in two words, was the woof of petty interests and pettyconspiracies which united Blois with Orleans and Orleans with Paris;and which was about to bring into the last named city, where she was toproduce so great a revolution, the poor little La Valliere, who was farfrom suspecting, as she returned joyfully, leaning on the arm of hermother, for what a strange future she was reserved. As to the goodman, Malicorne--we speak of the syndic of Orleans--he did not see moreclearly into the present than others did into the future; and had nosuspicion as he walked, every day, between three and five o'clock, afterhis dinner, upon the Place Sainte-Catherine, in his gray coat, cutafter the fashion of Louis XIII. And his cloth shoes with great knots ofribbon, that it was he who was paying for all those bursts of laughter, all those stolen kisses, all those whisperings, all those littlekeepsakes, and all those bubble projects which formed a chainof forty-five leagues in length, from the palais of Blois to thePalais-Royal. 

CHAPTER 80. Manicamp and Malicorne

Malicorne, then, left Blois, as we have said, and went to find hisfriend Manicamp, then in temporary retreat in the city of Orleans. Itwas just at the moment when that young nobleman was employed in sellingthe last decent clothing he had left. He had, a fortnight beforeextorted from the Comte de Guiche a hundred pistoles, all he had, toassist in equipping him properly to go and meet Madame, on her arrivalat Havre. He had drawn from Malicorne, three days before, fiftypistoles, the price of the brevet obtained for Montalais. He had then noexpectation of anything else, having exhausted all his resources, withthe exception of selling a handsome suit of cloth and satin, embroideredand laced with gold, which had been the admiration of the court. But tobe able to sell this suit, the last he had left--as we have been forcedto confess to the reader--Manicamp had been obliged to take to his bed. No more fire, no more pocket-money, no more walking-money, nothing butsleep to take the place of repasts, companies and balls. It has beensaid--"he who sleeps, dines;" but it has never been affirmed--he whosleeps, plays--or he who sleeps, dances. Manicamp, reduced to thisextremity of neither playing nor dancing, for a week at least, was, consequently, very sad; he was expecting a usurer, and saw Malicorneenter. A cry of distress escaped him. 

"Eh! what!" said he, in a tone which nothing can describe, "is that youagain, dear friend?"

"Humph! you are very polite!" said Malicorne. 

"Ay, but look you, I was expecting money, and, instead of money, I seeyou. "

"And suppose I brought you some money?"

"Oh! that would be quite another thing. You are very welcome, my dearfriend!"

And he held out his hand, not for the hand of Malicorne, but for thepurse. Malicorne pretended to be mistaken, and gave him his hand. 

"And the money?" said Manicamp. 

"My dear friend, if you wish to have it, earn it. "

"What must be done for it?"

"Earn it, parbleu!"

"And after what fashion?"

"Oh! that is rather trying, I warn you. "

"The devil!"

"You must get out of bed, and go immediately to M. Le Comte de Guiche. "

"I get out!" said Manicamp, stretching himself in his bed, complacently, "oh, no, thank you!"

"You have sold all your clothes?"

"No, I have one suit left, the handsomest even, but I expect apurchaser. "

"And the chausses?"

"Well, if you look, you will see them on that chair. "

"Very well! since you have some chausses and a pourpoint left, put yourlegs into the first and your back into the other; have a horse saddled, and set off. "

"Not I. "

"And why not?"

"Mordieu! don't you know, then, that M. De Guiche is at Etampes?"

"No, I thought he was at Paris. You will then only have fifteen leaguesto go, instead of thirty. "

"You are a wonderfully clever fellow! If I were to ride fifteen leaguesin these clothes, they would never be fit to put on again; and, insteadof selling them for thirty pistoles, I should be obliged to takefifteen. "

"Sell them for what you like, but I must have a second commission ofmaid of honor. "

"Good! for whom? Is Montalais doubled then?"

"Vile fellow!--It is you who are doubled. You swallow up twofortunes--mine, and that of M. Le Comte de Guiche. "

"You should say, that of M. Le Comte de Guiche and yours. "

"That is true; honor where it is due; but I return to my brevet. "

"And you are wrong. "

"Prove me that. "

"My friend, there will only be twelve maids of honor for madame, I havealready obtained for you what twelve hundred women are trying for, andfor that I was forced to employ all my diplomacy. "

"Oh! yes, I know you have been quite heroic, my dear friend. "

"We know what we are about, " said Manicamp. 

"To whom do you tell that? When I am king, I promise you one thing. "

"What? To call yourself Malicorne the first?"

"No; to make you superintendent of my finances; but that is not thequestion now. "

"Unfortunately. "

"The present affair is to procure for me a second place of maid ofhonor. "

"My friend, if you were to promise me the price of heaven, I woulddecline to disturb myself at this moment. " Malicorne chinked the moneyin his pocket. 

"There are twenty pistoles here, " said Malicorne. 

"And what would you do with twenty pistoles, mon Dieu!"

"Well!" said Malicorne, a little angrily, "suppose I were to add them tothe five hundred you already owe me?"

"You are right, " replied Manicamp, stretching out his hand again, "andfrom that point of view I can accept them. Give them to me. "

"An instant, what the devil! it is not only holding out your hand thatwill do; if I give you the twenty pistoles, shall I have my brevet?"

"To be sure you shall. "

"Soon?"

"To-day. "

"Oh! take care! Monsieur de Manicamp; you undertake much, and I do notask that. Thirty leagues in a day is too much, you would kill yourself. "

"I think nothing impossible when obliging a friend. "

"You are quite heroic. "

"Where are the twenty pistoles?"

"Here they are, " said Malicorne, showing them. 

"That's well. "

"Yes, but my dear M. Manicamp, you would consume them in post-horsesalone!"

"No, no, make yourself easy on that score. "

"Pardon me. Why, it is fifteen leagues from this place to Etampes?"

"Fourteen. "

"Well! fourteen be it; fourteen leagues makes seven posts; at twentysous the post, seven livres; seven livres the courier, fourteen; as manyfor coming back, twenty-eight! as much for bed and supper, that makessixty livres this complaisance would cost. "

Manicamp stretched himself like a serpent in his bed, and fixing his twogreat eyes upon Malicorne, "You are right, " said he; "I could not returnbefore to-morrow;" and he took the twenty pistoles. 

"Now, then, be off!"

"Well, as I cannot be back before to-morrow, we have time. "

"Time for what?"

"Time to play. "

"What do you wish to play with?

"Your twenty pistoles, pardieu!"

"No; you always win. "

"I will wager them, then. "

"Against what?"

"Against twenty others. "

"And what shall be the object of the wager?"

"This. We have said it was fourteen leagues to Etampes?"

"Yes. "

"And fourteen leagues back?

"Doubtless. "

"Well; for these twenty-eight leagues you cannot allow less thanfourteen hours?"

"That is agreed. "

"One hour to find the Comte de Guiche. 

"Go on. "

"And an hour to persuade him to write a letter to Monsieur. "

"Just so. "

"Sixteen hours in all?"

"You reckon as well as M. Colbert. "

"It is now twelve o'clock. "

"Half-past. "

"Hein!--you have a handsome watch!"

"What were you saying?" said Malicorne, putting his watch quickly backinto his fob. 

"Ah! true; I was offering to lay you twenty pistoles against these youhave lent me, that you will have the Comte de Guiche's letter in----"

"How soon?"

"In eight hours. "

"Have you a winged horse, then?"

"That is no matter. Will you bet?"

"I shall have the comte's letter in eight hours?"

"Yes. "

"In hand?"

"In hand. "

"Well, be it so; I lay, " said Malicorne, curious to know how this sellerof clothes would get through. 

"Is it agreed?"

"It is. "

"Pass me the pen, ink, and paper. 

"Here they are. "

"Thank you. "

Manicamp raised himself with a sigh, and leaning on his left elbow, inhis best hand, traced the following lines:--

"Good for an order for a place of maid of honor to Madame, which M. LeComte de Guiche will take upon him to obtain at sight. 

"De Manicamp. "

This painful task accomplished, he laid himself down in bed again. 

"Well!" asked Malicorne, "what does this mean?"

"That means that if you are in a hurry to have the letter from the Comtede Guiche for Monsieur, I have won my wager. "

"How the devil is that?"

"That is transparent enough, I think; you take that paper. "

"Well?"

"And you set out instead of me. "

"Ah!"

"You put your horses to their best speed. "

"Good!"

"In six hours you will be at Etampes; in seven hours you have the letterfrom the comte, and I shall have won my wager without stirring from mybed, which suits me and you too, at the same time, I am very sure. "

"Decidedly, Manicamp, you are a great man. "

"Hein! I know that. "

"I am to start then for Etampes?"

"Directly. "

"I am to go to the Comte de Guiche with this order?"

"He will give you a similar one for Monsieur. "

"Monsieur will approve?"

"Instantly. "

"And I shall have my brevet?"

"You will. "

"Ah!"

"Well, I hope I behave genteely?"

"Adorably. "

"Thank you. "

"You do as you please, then, with the Comte de Guiche, Malicorne?"

"Except making money of him--everything?"

"Diable! the exception is annoying; but then, if instead of asking himfor money, you were to ask----"

"What?"

"Something important. "

"What do you call important?"

"Well! suppose one of your friends asked you to render him a service?"

"I would not render it to him. "

"Selfish fellow!"

"Or at least I would ask him what service he would render me inexchange. "

"Ah! that, perhaps, is fair. Well, that friend speaks to you. "

"What, you, Malicorne?"

"Yes; I. "

"Ah! ah! you are rich, then?"

"I have still fifty pistoles left. "

"Exactly the sum I want. Where are those fifty pistoles?"

"Here, " said Malicorne, slapping his pocket. 

"Then speak, my friend; what do you want?"

Malicorne took up the pen, ink, and paper again, and presented them allto Manicamp. "Write!" said he. 

"Dictate!"

"An order for a place in the household of Monsieur. "

"Oh!" said Manicamp, laying down the pen, "a place in the household ofMonsieur for fifty pistoles?"

"You mistook me, my friend; you did not hear plainly. "

"What did you say, then?"

"I said five hundred. "

"And the five hundred?"

"Here they are. "

Manicamp devoured the rouleau with his eyes; but this time Malicorneheld it at a distance. 

"Eh! what do you say to that? Five hundred pistoles. "

"I say it is for nothing, my friend, " said Manicamp, taking up the penagain, "and you exhaust my credit. Dictate. "

Malicorne continued:

"Which my friend the Comte de Guiche will obtain for my friendMalicorne. "

"That's it, " said Manicamp. 

"Pardon me, you have forgotten to sign. "

"Ah! that is true. The five hundred pistoles?"

"Here are two hundred and fifty of them. "

"And the other two hundred and fifty?"

"When I am in possession of my place. "

Manicamp made a face. 

"In that case give me the recommendation back again. "

"What to do?"

"To add two words to it. "

"Two words?"

"Yes, two words only. "

"What are they?"

"In haste. "

Malicorne returned the recommendation; Manicamp added the words. 

"Good, " said Malicorne, taking back the paper. 

Manicamp began to count out the pistoles. 

"There want twenty, " said he. 

"How so?"

"The twenty I have won. "

"In what way?"

"By laying that you would have the letter from the Comte de Guiche ineight hours. "

"Ah! that's fair, " and he gave him the twenty pistoles. 

Manicamp began to scoop up his gold by handfuls, and pour it in cascadesupon his bed. 

"This second place, " murmured Malicorne, whilst drying his paper, "which, at the first glance appears to cost me more than the first, but----" He stopped, took up the pen in his turn, and wrote toMontalais:--

"Mademoiselle, --Announce to your friend that her commission will not belong before it arrives; I am setting out to get it signed: that will betwenty-eight leagues I shall have gone for the love of you. "

Then with his sardonic smile, taking up the interrupted sentence:--"Thisplace, " said he, "at the first glance, appears to cost more than thefirst; but--the benefit will be, I hope, in proportion with theexpense, and Mademoiselle de la Valliere will bring me back more thanMademoiselle de Montalais, or else, --or else my name is not Malicorne. Farewell, Manicamp, " and he left the room. 

CHAPTER 81. The Courtyard of the Hotel Grammont

On Malicorne's arrival at Orleans, he was informed that the Comte deGuiche had just set out for Paris. Malicorne rested himself for a coupleof hours, and then prepared to continue his journey. He reached Parisduring the night, and alighted at a small hotel, where, in his previousjourneys to the capital, he had been accustomed to put up, and ateight o'clock the next morning presented himself at the Hotel Grammont. Malicorne arrived just in time, for the Comte de Guiche was on the pointof taking leave of Monsieur before setting out for Havre, where theprincipal members of the French nobility had gone to await Madame'sarrival from England. Malicorne pronounced the name of Manicamp and wasimmediately admitted. He found the Comte de Guiche in the courtyardof the Hotel Grammont, inspecting his horses, which his trainers andequerries were passing in review before him. The count, in the presenceof his tradespeople and of his servants, was engaged in praising orblaming, as the case seemed to deserve, the appointments, horses, andharness that were being submitted to him; when, in the midst of thisimportant occupation, the name of Manicamp was announced. 

"Manicamp!" he exclaimed, "let him enter by all means. " And he advanceda few steps toward the door. 

Malicorne slipped through the half-open door, and looking at the Comtede Guiche, who was surprised to see a face he did not recognize, insteadof the one he expected, said: "Forgive me, monsieur le comte, but Ibelieve a mistake has been made. M. Manicamp himself was announced toyou, instead of which it is only an envoy from him. "

"Ah!" exclaimed De Guiche, coldly, "and what do you bring me?"

"A letter, monsieur le comte. " Malicorne handed him the first document, and narrowly watched the count's face, who, as he read it began tolaugh. 

"What!" he exclaimed, "another maid of honor? Are all the maids of honorin France, then, under his protection?"

Malicorne bowed. "Why does he not come himself?" he inquired. 

"He is confined to his bed. "

"The deuce! he has no money then, I suppose, " said De Guiche, shrugginghis shoulders. "What does he do with his money?"

Malicorne made a movement, to indicate that upon this subject he was asignorant as the count himself. "Why does he not make use of his credit, then?" continued De Guiche. 

"With regard to that, I think----"

"What?"

"That Manicamp has credit with no one but yourself, monsieur le comte!"

"He will not be at Havre, then?" Whereupon Malicorne made anothermovement. 

"But every one will be there. "

"I trust, monsieur le comte, that he will not neglect so excellent anopportunity. "

"He should be at Paris by this time. "

"He will take the direct road perhaps to make up for lost time. "

"Where is he now?"

"At Orleans. "

"Monsieur, " said De Guiche, "you seem to me a man of very good taste. "

Malicorne was wearing some of Manicamp's old-new clothes. He bowed inreturn, saying, "You do me a very great honor, monsieur le comte. "

"Whom have I the pleasure of addressing?"

"My name is Malicorne, monsieur. "

"M. De Malicorne, what do you think of these pistol-holsters?"

Malicorne was a man of great readiness, and immediately understood theposition of affairs. Besides, the "de" which had been prefixed to hisname, raised him to the rank of the person with whom he was conversing. He looked at the holsters with the air of a connoisseur and said, without hesitation: "Somewhat heavy, monsieur. "

"You see, " said De Guiche to the saddler, "this gentleman, whounderstands these matters well, thinks the holsters heavy, a complaint Ihad already made. " The saddler was full of excuses. 

"What do you think, " asked De Guiche, "of this horse, which I have justpurchased?"

"To look at it, it seems perfect, monsieur le comte; but I must mount itbefore I give you my opinion. "

"Do so, M. De Malicorne, and ride him round the court two or threetimes. "

The courtyard of the hotel was so arranged, that whenever there was anyoccasion for it, it could be used as a riding-school. Malicorne, withperfect ease, arranged the bridle and snaffle-reins, placed his lefthand on the horse's mane, and, with his foot in the stirrup, raisedhimself and seated himself in the saddle. At first, he made the horsewalk the whole circuit of the court-yard at a foot-pace; next at a trot;lastly at a gallop. He then drew up close to the count, dismounted, andthrew the bridle to a groom standing by. "Well, " said the count, "whatdo you think of it, M. De Malicorne?"

"This horse, monsieur le comte, is of the Mecklenburg breed. In lookingwhether the bit suited his mouth, I saw that he was rising seven, thevery age when the training of a horse intended for a charger shouldcommence. The forehand is light. A horse which holds its head high, itis said, never tires his rider's hand. The withers are rather low. Thedrooping of the hindquarters would almost make me doubt the purity ofits German breed, and I think there is English blood in him. He standswell on his legs, but he trots high, and may cut himself, which requiresattention to be paid to his shoeing. He is tractable; and as I made himturn round and change his feet, I found him quick and ready in doingso. "

"Well said, M. De Malicorne, " exclaimed the comte; "you are a judge ofhorses, I perceive;" then, turning towards him again, he continued, "Youare most becomingly dressed, M. De Malicorne. That is not a provincialcut, I presume. Such a style of dress is not to be met with at Tours orOrleans. "

"No, monsieur le comte; my clothes were made at Paris. "

"There is no doubt about that. But let us resume our own affair. Manicamp wishes for the appointment of a second maid of honor. "

"You perceive what he has written, monsieur le comte. "

"For whom was the first appointment?"

Malicorne felt the color rise in his face as he answered hurriedly. 

"A charming maid of honor, Mademoiselle de Montalais. "

"Ah, ah! you are acquainted with her?"

"We are affianced, or nearly so. "

"That is quite another thing, then; a thousand compliments, " exclaimedDe Guiche, upon whose lips a courtier's jest was already fitting, butto whom the word "affianced, " addressed by Malicorne with respect toMademoiselle de Montalais, recalled the respect due to women. 

"And for whom is the second appointment destined?" asked De Guiche, "isit for anyone to whom Manicamp may happen to be affianced? In that caseI pity her, poor girl! for she will have a sad fellow for a husband. "

"No, monsieur le comte, the second appointment is for Mademoiselle de laBaume le Blanc de la Valliere. "

"Unknown, " said De Guiche. 

"Unknown? yes, monsieur, " said Malicorne, smiling in his turn. 

"Very good. I will speak to Monsieur about it. By the by, she is ofgentle birth?"

"She belongs to a very good family and is maid of honor to Madame. "

"That's well. Will you accompany me to Monsieur?"

"Most certainly, if I may be permitted the honor. "

"Have you your carriage?"

"No; I came here on horseback. "

"Dressed as you are?"

"No, monsieur; I posted from Orleans, and I changed my traveling suitfor the one I have on, in order to present myself to you. "

"True, you already told me you had come from Orleans;" saying which hecrumpled Manicamp's letter in his hand, and thrust it in his pocket. 

"I beg your pardon, " said Malicorne, timidly; "but I do not think youhave read all. "

"Not read all, do you say?"

"No, there were two letters in the same envelope. "

"Oh! are you sure?"

"Quite sure. "

"Let us look, then, " said the count, as he opened the letter again. 

"Ah! you are right, " he said, opening the paper which he had not yetread. 

"I suspected it, " he continued--"another application for an appointmentunder Monsieur. This Manicamp is a regular vampire:--he is carrying on atrade in it. "

"No, monsieur le comte, he wishes to make a present of it. "

"To whom?"

"To myself, monsieur. "

"Why did you not say so at once, my dear M. Mauvaisecorne?"

"Malicorne, monsieur le comte. "

"Forgive me; it is the Latin that bothers me--that terrible mine ofetymologies. Why the deuce are young men of family taught Latin? Malaand mauvaise--you understand it is the same thing. You will forgive me, I trust, M. De Malicorne. "

"Your kindness affects me much, monsieur: but it is a reason why Ishould make you acquainted with one circumstance without any delay. "

"What is it?"

"That I was not born a gentleman. I am not without courage, and notaltogether deficient in ability; but my name is Malicorne simply. "

"You appear to me, monsieur!" exclaimed the count, looking at the astuteface of his companion, "to be a most agreeable man. Your face pleasesme, M. Malicorne, and you must possess some indisputably excellentqualities to have pleased that egotistical Manicamp. Be candid, and tellme whether you are not some saint descended upon the earth. "

"Why so?"

"For the simple reason that he makes you a present of anything. Did younot say that he intended to make you a present of some appointment inthe king's house

"I beg your pardon, count; but, if I succeed in obtaining theappointment, you, and not he, will have bestowed it on me. "

"Besides, he will not have given it to you for nothing, I suppose. Stay, I have it;--there is a Malicorne at Orleans, who lends money to theprince. "

"I think that must be my father, monsieur. "

"Ah! the prince has the father, and that terrible dragon of a Manicamphas the son. Take care, monsieur, I know him. He will fleece youcompletely. "

"The only difference is, that I lend without interest, " said Malicorne, smiling. 

"I was correct in saying you were either a saint or very much resembledone. M. Malicorne, you shall have the post you want, or I will forfeitmy name. "

"Ah! monsieur le comte, what a debt of gratitude shall I not owe you?"said Malicorne, transported. 

"Let us go to the prince, my dear M. Malicorne. " And De Guiche proceededtoward the door, desiring Malicorne to follow him. At the very momentthey were about to cross the threshold, a young man appeared on theother side. He was from twenty-four to twenty-five years of age, of palecomplexion, bright eyes and brown hair and eyebrows. 

"Good-day, " he said, suddenly, almost pushing De Guiche back into thecourtyard again. 

"Is that you, De Wardes?--What! and booted, spurred, and whip in hand, too?"

"The most befitting costume for a man about to set off for Havre. There will be no one left in Paris tomorrow. " And hereupon he salutedMalicorne with great ceremony, whose handsome dress gave him theappearance of a prince. 

"M. Malicorne, " said De Guiche to his friend. De Wardes bowed. 

"M. De Wardes, " said Guiche to Malicorne, who bowed in return. "By theby, De Wardes, " continued De Guiche, "you who are so well acquaintedwith these matters, can you tell us, probably, what appointments arestill vacant at the court; or rather in the prince's household?"

"In the prince's household, " said De Wardes, looking up with an air ofconsideration, "let me see--the appointment of the master of the horseis vacant, I believe. "

"Oh, " said Malicorne, "there is no question of such a post as that, monsieur; my ambition is not nearly so exalted. "

De Wardes had a more penetrating observation than De Guiche, andfathomed Malicorne immediately. "The fact is, " he said, looking at himfrom head to foot, "a man must be either a duke or a peer to fill thatpost. "

"All I solicit, " said Malicorne, "is a very humble appointment; I am oflittle importance, and I do not rank myself above my position. "

"M. Malicorne, whom you see here, " said De Guiche to De Wardes, "is avery excellent fellow, whose only misfortune is that of not being ofgentle birth. As far as I am concerned, you know, I attach little valueto those who have but gentle birth to boast of. "

"Assuredly, " said De Wardes; "but will you allow me to remark, my dearcount, that, without rank of some sort, one can hardly hope to belong tohis royal highness's household?"

"You are right, " said the count, "court etiquette is absolute. Thedevil!--we never so much as gave it a thought. "

"Alas! a sad misfortune for me, monsieur le comte, " said Malicorne, changing color. 

"Yet not without remedy, I hope, " returned De Guiche. 

"The remedy is found easily enough, " exclaimed De Wardes; "you can becreated a gentleman. His Eminence, the Cardinal Mazarin, did nothingelse from morning till night. "

"Hush, hush, De Wardes, " said the count; "no jests of that kind; it illbecomes us to turn such matters into ridicule. Letters of nobility, itis true, are purchasable; but that is a sufficient misfortune withoutthe nobles themselves laughing at it. "

"Upon my word, De Guiche, you're quite a Puritan, as the English say. "

At this moment the Vicomte de Bragelonne was announced by one of theservants in the courtyard, in precisely the same manner as he would havedone in a room. 

"Come here, my dear Raoul. What! you, too, booted and spurred? You aresetting off, then?"

Bragelonne approached the group of young men, and saluted them with thatquiet and serious manner peculiar to him. His salutation was principallyaddressed to De Wardes, with whom he was unacquainted, and whosefeatures, on his perceiving Raoul, had assumed a strange sternnessof expression. "I have come, De Guiche, " he said, "to ask yourcompanionship. We set off for Havre, I presume. "

"This is admirable--delightful. We shall have a most enjoyable journey. M. Malicorne, M. Bragelonne--ah! M. De Wardes, let me present you. " Theyoung men saluted each other in a restrained manner. Their very naturesseemed, from the beginning, disposed to take exception to each other. DeWardes was pliant, subtle, full of dissimulation; Raoul was calm, grave, and upright. "Decide between us--between De Wardes and myself, Raoul. "

"Upon what subject?"

"Upon the subject of noble birth. "

"Who can be better informed on that subject than a De Grammont?"

"No compliments; it is your opinion I ask. "

"At least, inform me of the subject under discussion. "

"De Wardes asserts that the distribution of titles is abused; I, onthe contrary, maintain that a title is useless to the man on whom it isbestowed. "

"And you are correct, " said Bragelonne, quietly. 

"But, monsieur le vicomte, " interrupted De Wardes, with a kind ofobstinacy, "I affirm that it is I who am correct. "

"What was your opinion, monsieur?"

"I was saying that everything is done in France at the present moment tohumiliate men of family. "

"And by whom?"

"By the king himself. He surrounds himself with people who cannot showfour quarterings. "

"Nonsense, " said De Guiche, "where could you possibly have seen that, DeWardes?"

"One example will suffice, " he returned, directing his look fully uponRaoul. 

"State it then. "

"Do you know who has just been nominated captain-general of themusketeers?--an appointment more valuable than a peerage; for it givesprecedence over all the marechals of France. "

Raoul's color mounted in his face; for he saw the object De Wardes hadin view. "No; who has been appointed? In any case it must have beenvery recently, for the appointment was vacant eight days ago; a proof ofwhich is, that the king refused Monsieur, who solicited the post for oneof his proteges. "

"Well, the king refused it to Monsieur's protege, in order to bestow itupon the Chevalier d'Artagnan, a younger brother of some Gascon family, who has been trailing his sword in the ante-chambers during the lastthirty years. "

"Forgive me if I interrupt you, " said Raoul, darting a glance fullof severity at De Wardes; "but you give me the impression of beingunacquainted with the gentleman of whom you are speaking. "

"I not acquainted with M. D'Artagnan? Can you tell me, monsieur, whodoes not know him?"

"Those who do know him, monsieur, " replied Raoul with still greatercalmness and sternness of manner, "are in the habit of saying, that ifhe is not as good a gentleman as the king--which is not his fault--he isthe equal of all the kings of the earth in courage and loyalty. Such ismy opinion, monsieur, and I thank heaven I have known M. D'Artagnan frommy birth. "

De Wardes was about to reply, when De Guiche interrupted him. 

CHAPTER 82. The Portrait of Madame

The discussion was becoming full of bitterness. De Guiche perfectlyunderstood the whole matter for there was in Bragelonne's face a lookinstinctively hostile, while in that of De Wardes there was somethinglike a determination to offend. Without inquiring into the differentfeelings which actuated his two friends, De Guiche resolved to ward offthe blow which he felt was on the point of being dealt by one of them, and perhaps by both. "Gentlemen, " he said, "we must take our leaveof each other, I must pay a visit to Monsieur. You, De Wardes, willaccompany me to the Louvre, and you Raoul, will remain here master ofthe house; and as all that is done here is under your advice, you willbestow the last glance upon my preparations for departure. "

Raoul, with the air of one who neither seeks nor fears a quarrel, bowedhis head in token of assent, and seated himself upon a bench in the sun. "That is well, " said De Guiche, "remain where you are, Raoul, and tellthem to show you the two horses I have just purchased; you will give meyour opinion, for I only bought them on condition that you ratified thepurchase. By the by, I have to beg your pardon for having omitted toinquire after the Comte de la Fere. " While pronouncing these latterwords, he closely observed De Wardes, in order to perceive what effectthe name of Raoul's father would produce upon him. "I thank you, "answered the young man, "the count is very well. " A gleam of deep hatredpassed into De Wardes' eyes. De Guiche, who appeared not to notice theforeboding expression, went up to Raoul, and grasping him by the hand, said, --"It is agreed, then, Bragelonne, is it not, that you will rejoinus in the courtyard of the Palais-Royal?" He then signed to De Wardes tofollow him who had been engaged in balancing himself first on one foot, then on the other. "We are going, " said he, "come, M. Malicorne. "This name made Raoul start; for it seemed that he had already heard itpronounced before, but he could not remember on what occasion. While trying to recall it half-dreamily, yet half-irritated at hisconversation with De Wardes, the three young men set out on their waytowards the Palais-Royal, where Monsieur was residing. Malicorne learnedtwo things; the first, that the young men had something to say to eachother, and the second, that he ought not to walk in the same line withthem; and therefore he walked behind. "Are you mad?" said De Guicheto his companion, as soon as they had left the Hotel de Grammont; "youattack M. D'Artagnan, and that, too, before Raoul. "

"Well, " said De Wardes, "what then?"

"What do you mean by 'what then?'"

"Certainly, is there any prohibition against attacking M. D'Artagnan?"

"But you know very well that M. D'Artagnan was one of those celebratedand terrible four men who were called the musketeers. "

"That they may be, but I do not perceive why, on that account, I shouldbe forbidden to hate M. D'Artagnan. "

"What cause has he given you?"

"Me! personally, none. "

"Why hate him, therefore?"

"Ask my dead father that question. "

"Really, my dear De Wardes, you surprise me. M. D'Artagnan is not oneto leave unsettled any enmity he may have to arrange, without completelyclearing his account. Your father, I have heard, on his side, carriedmatters with a high hand. Moreover there are no enmities so bitter thatthey cannot be washed away by blood, by a good sword-thrust loyallygiven. "

"Listen to me, my dear De Guiche, this inveterate dislike existedbetween my father and M. D'Artagnan, and when I was quite a child, he acquainted me with the reason for it, and, as forming part of myinheritance, I regard it as a particular legacy bestowed upon me. "

"And does his hatred concern M. D'Artagnan alone?"

"As for that, M. D'Artagnan was so intimately associated with his threefriends, that some portion of the full measure of my hatred falls totheir lot, and that hatred is of such a nature, whenever the opportunityoccurs, they shall have no occasion to complain of their allowance. "

De Guiche had kept his eyes fixed on De Wardes, and shuddered atthe bitter manner in which the young man smiled. Something like apresentiment flashed across his mind; he knew that the time had passedaway for grands coups entre gentilshommes; but that the feeling ofhatred treasured up in the mind, instead of being diffused abroad, wasstill hatred all the same; that a smile was sometimes as full of meaningas a threat; and, in a word, that to the fathers who had hated withtheir hearts and fought with their arms, would now succeed the sons, whowould indeed hate with their hearts, but would no longer combat theirenemies, save by means of intrigue or treachery. As, therefore, itcertainly was not Raoul whom he could suspect either of intrigue ortreachery, it was on Raoul's account that De Guiche trembled. However, while these gloomy forebodings cast a shade of anxiety over De Guiche'scountenance, De Wardes had resumed the entire mastery over himself. 

"At all events, " he observed, "I have no personal ill-will towards M. DeBragelonne; I do not know him even. "

"In any case, " said De Guiche, with a certain amount of severity in histone of voice, "do not forget one circumstance, that Raoul is my mostintimate friend;" a remark at which De Wardes bowed. 

The conversation terminated there, although De Guiche tried hisutmost to draw out his secret from him; but, doubtless, De Wardes haddetermined to say nothing further, and he remained impenetrable. DeGuiche therefore promised himself a more satisfactory result with Raoul. In the meantime they had reached the Palais-Royal, which was surroundedby a crowd of lookers-on. The household belonging to Monsieur awaitedhis command to mount their horses, in order to form part of the escortof the ambassadors, to whom had been intrusted the care of bringing theyoung princess to Paris. The brilliant display of horses, arms, andrich liveries, afforded some compensation in those times, thanks to thekindly feelings of the people, and to the traditions of deep devotionto their sovereigns, for the enormous expenses charged upon the taxes. Mazarin had said: "Let them sing, provided they pay;" while Louis XIV. 'sremark was, "Let them look. " Sight had replaced the voice; the peoplecould still look, but they were no longer allowed to sing. De Guicheleft De Wardes and Malicorne at the bottom of the grand staircase, whilehe himself, who shared the favor and good graces of Monsieur with theChevalier de Lorraine, who always smiled at him most affectionately, though he could not endure him, went straight to the prince'sapartments, whom he found engaged in admiring himself in the glass, androuging his face. In a corner of the cabinet, the Chevalier de Lorrainewas extended full length upon some cushions, having just had his longhair curled, with which he was playing in the same manner a woman wouldhave done. The prince turned round as the count entered, and perceivingwho it was, said:

"Ah! is that you, Guiche, come here and tell me the truth. "

"You know, my lord, it is one of my defects to speak the truth. "

"You will hardly believe, De Guiche, how that wicked chevalier hasannoyed me. "

The chevalier shrugged his shoulders. 

"Why, he pretends, " continued the prince, "that Mademoiselle Henriettais better looking as a woman than I am as a man. "

"Do not forget, my lord, " said De Guiche, frowning slightly, "yourequire me to speak the truth?"

"Certainly, " said the prince, tremblingly. 

"Well, and I shall tell it you. "

"Do not be in a hurry, Guiche, " exclaimed the prince, "you have plentyof time; look at me attentively, and try to recollect Madame. Besides, her portrait is here. Look at it. " And he held out to him a miniature ofthe finest possible execution. De Guiche took it, and looked at it for along time attentively. 

"Upon my honor, my lord, this is indeed a most lovely face. "

"But look at me, count, look at me, " said the prince endeavoring todirect upon himself the attention of the count, who was completelyabsorbed in contemplation of the portrait. 

"It is wonderful, " murmured Guiche. 

"Really one would almost imagine you had never seen the young ladybefore. "

"It is true, my lord, I have seen her, but it was five years ago; thereis a great difference between a child twelve years old and a girl ofseventeen. "

"Well, what is your opinion?"

"My opinion is that the portrait must be flattering, my lord. "

"Of that, " said the prince triumphantly, "there can be no doubt, but letus suppose that it is not, what would your opinion be?"

"My lord, that your highness is exceedingly happy to have so charming abride. "

"Very well, that is your opinion of her, but of me?"

"My opinion, my lord, is that you are too handsome for a man. "

The Chevalier de Lorraine burst out laughing. The prince understood howsevere towards himself this opinion of the Comte de Guiche was, and helooked somewhat displeased, saying, "My friends are not over indulgent. "De Guiche looked at the portrait again, and, after lengthenedcontemplation, returned it with apparent unwillingness, saying, "Mostdecidedly, my lord, I should rather prefer to look ten times at yourhighness, than to look at Madame once again. " It seemed as if thechevalier had detected some mystery in these words, which wereincomprehensible to the prince, for he exclaimed: "Very well, getmarried yourself. " Monsieur continued painting himself, and when hehad finished, looked at the portrait again once more, turned to admirehimself in the glass, and smiled, and no doubt was satisfied with thecomparison. "You are very kind to have come, " he said to Guiche, "Ifeared you would leave without bidding me adieu. "

"Your highness knows me too well to believe me capable of so great adisrespect. "

"Besides, I suppose you have something to ask from me before leavingParis?"

"Your highness has indeed guessed correctly, for I have a request tomake. "

"Very good, what is it?"

The Chevalier de Lorraine immediately displayed the greatest attention, for he regarded every favor conferred upon another as a robberycommitted against himself. And, as Guiche hesitated, the prince said:"If it be money, nothing could be more fortunate, for I am in funds; thesuperintendent of the finances has sent me 500, 000 pistoles. "

"I thank your highness; but it is not an affair of money. "

"What is it, then? Tell me. "

"The appointment of a maid of honor. "

"Oh! oh! Guiche, what a protector you have become of young ladies, " saidthe prince, "you never speak of any one else now!"

The Chevalier de Lorraine smiled, for he knew very well that nothingdispleased the prince more than to show any interest in ladies. "Mylord, " said the comte, "it is not I who am directly interested in thelady of whom I have just spoken; I am acting on behalf of one of myfriends. "

"Ah! that is different; what is the name of the young lady in whom yourfriend is interested?"

"Mlle. De la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere; she is already maid of honorto the dowager princess. "

"Why, she is lame, " said the Chevalier de Lorraine, stretching himselfon his cushions. 

"Lame, " repeated the prince, "and Madame to have her constantly beforeher eyes? Most certainly not; it may be dangerous for her when in aninteresting condition. "

The Chevalier de Lorraine burst out laughing. 

"Chevalier, " said Guiche, "your conduct is ungenerous; while I amsoliciting a favor, you do me all the mischief you can. "

"Forgive me, comte, " said the Chevalier de Lorraine, somewhat uneasy atthe tone in which Guiche had made his remark, "but I had no intention ofdoing so, and I begin to believe that I have mistaken one young lady foranother. "

"There is no doubt of it, monsieur; and I do not hesitate to declarethat such is the case. "

"Do you attach much importance to it, Guiche?" inquired the prince. 

"I do, my lord. "

"Well, you shall have it, but ask me for no more appointments, for thereare none to give away. "

"Ah!" exclaimed the chevalier, "midday already, that is the hour fixedfor the departure. "

"You dismiss me, monsieur?" inquired Guiche. 

"Really, count, you treat me very ill to-day, " replied the chevalier. 

"For heaven's sake, count, for heaven's sake, chevalier, " said Monsieur, "do you not see how you are distressing me?"

"Your highness's signature?" said Guiche. 

"Take a blank appointment from that drawer, and give it to me. " Guichehanded the prince the document indicated, and at the same time presentedhim with a pen already dipped in ink; whereupon the prince signed. "Here, " he said, returning him the appointment, "but I give it on onecondition. "

"Name it. "

"That you make friends with the chevalier. "

"Willingly, " said Guiche. And he held out his hand to the chevalier withan indifference amounting to contempt. 

"Adieu, count, " said the chevalier, without seeming in any way to havenoticed the count's slight; "adieu, and bring us back a princess whowill not talk with her own portrait too much. "

"Yes, set off and lose no time. By the by, who accompany you?"

"Bragelonne and De Wardes. "

"Both excellent and fearless companions. "

"Too fearless, " said the chevalier; "endeavor to bring them both back, count. "

"A bad heart, bad!" murmured De Guiche; "he scents mischief everywhere, and sooner than anything else. " And taking leave of the prince, hequitted the apartment. As soon as he reached the vestibule, he wavedin the air the paper which the prince had signed. Malicorne hurriedforward, and received it, trembling with delight. When, however, he heldit in his hand Guiche observed that he still awaited something further. 

"Patience, monsieur, " he said; "the Chevalier de Lorraine was there, and I feared an utter failure if I asked too much at once. Wait until Ireturn. Adieu. "

"Adieu, monsieur le comte; a thousand thanks, " said Malicorne. 

"Send Manicamp to me. By the way, monsieur, is it true that Mlle. De laValliere is lame?" As he said this a horse drew up behind him, and onturning round he noticed that Bragelonne, who had just at that momententered the courtyard, turned suddenly pale. The poor lover had heardthe remark, which, however, was not the case with Malicorne, for he wasalready beyond the reach of the count's voice. 

"Why is Louise's name spoken of here?" said Raoul to himself; "oh! letnot De Wardes, who stands smiling yonder, even say a word about her inmy presence. "

"Now, gentlemen, " exclaimed the Comte de Guiche, "prepare to start. "

At this moment the prince, who had completed his toilette, appeared atthe window, and was immediately saluted by the acclamations of all whocomposed the escort, and ten minutes afterwards, banners, scarfs, and feathers were fluttering and waving in the air, as the cavalcadegalloped away. 

CHAPTER 83. Havre

This brilliant and animated company, the members of which were inspiredby various feelings, arrived at Havre four days after their departurefrom Paris. It was about five o'clock in the afternoon, and nointelligence had yet been received of Madame. They were soon engaged inquest of apartments; but the greatest confusion immediately ensued amongthe masters, and violent quarrels among their attendants. In the midstof this disorder, the Comte de Guiche fancied he recognized Manicamp. Itwas, indeed, Manicamp himself; but as Malicorne had taken possession ofhis very best costume, he had not been able to get any other than a suitof violet velvet trimmed with silver. Guiche recognized him as much byhis dress as by his features, for he had very frequently seen Manicampin his violet suit, which was his last resource. Manicamp presentedhimself to the count under an arch of torches, which set in a blaze, rather than illuminated, the gate by which Havre is entered, and whichis situated close to the tower of Francis I. The count, remarking thewoe-begone expression of Manicamp's face, could not resist laughing. "Well, my poor Manicamp, " he exclaimed, "how violet you look; are you inmourning?"

"Yes, " replied Manicamp; "I am in mourning. "

"For whom, or for what?"

"For my blue-and-gold suit, which has disappeared, and in the place ofwhich I could find nothing but this; and I was even obliged to economizefrom compulsion, in order to get possession of it. "

"Indeed?"

"It is singular you should be astonished at that, since you leave mewithout any money. "

"At all events, here you are, and that is the principal thing. "

"By the most horrible roads. "

"Where are you lodging?"

"Lodging?"

"Yes!"

"I am not lodging anywhere. "

De Guiche began to laugh. "Well, " said he, "where do you intend tolodge?"

"In the same place you do. "

"But I don't know, myself. "

"What do you mean by saying you don't know?"

"Certainly, how is it likely I should know where I should stay?"

"Have you not retained an hotel?"

"I?"

"Yes, you or the prince. "

"Neither of us has thought of it. Havre is of considerable size, Isuppose; and provided I can get a stable for a dozen horses, and asuitable house in a good quarter----"

"Certainly, there are some very excellent houses. "

"Well then----"

"But not for us. "

"What do you mean by saying not for us?--for whom, then?"

"For the English, of course. "

"For the English?"

"Yes; the houses are all taken. "

"By whom?"

"By the Duke of Buckingham. "

"I beg your pardon?" said Guiche, whose attention this name hadawakened. 

"Yes, by the Duke of Buckingham. His Grace was preceded by a courier, who arrived here three days ago, and immediately retained all the housesfit for habitation the town possesses. "

"Come, come, Manicamp, let us understand each other. "

"Well, what I have told you is clear enough, it seems to me. "

"But surely Buckingham does not occupy the whole of Havre?"

"He certainly does not occupy it, since he has not yet arrived; but, once disembarked, he will occupy it. "

"Oh! oh!"

"It is quite clear you are not acquainted with the English; they have aperfect rage for monopolizing everything. "

"That may be; but a man who has the whole of one house, is satisfiedwith it, and does not require two. "

"Yes, but two men?"

"Be it so; for two men, two houses, or four or six, or ten, if you like;but there are a hundred houses at Havre. "

"Yes, and all the hundred are let. "

"Impossible!"

"What an obstinate fellow you are. I tell you Buckingham has hired allthe houses surrounding the one which the queen dowager of England andthe princess her daughter will inhabit. "

"He is singular enough, indeed, " said De Wardes, caressing his horse'sneck. 

"Such is the case, however, monsieur. "

"You are quite sure of it, Monsieur de Manicamp?" and as he put thisquestion, he looked slyly at De Guiche, as though to interrogate himupon the degree of confidence to be placed in his friend's state ofmind. During this discussion the night had closed in, and the torches, pages, attendants, squires, horses, and carriages, blocked up the gateand the open place; the torches were reflected in the channel, which therising tide was gradually filling, while on the other side of the jettymight be noticed groups of curious lookers-on, consisting of sailors andtownspeople, who seemed anxious to miss nothing of the spectacle. Amidstall this hesitation of purpose, Bragelonne, as though a perfect strangerto the scene, remained on his horse somewhat in the rear of Guiche, andwatched the rays of light reflected on the water, inhaling with rapturethe sea breezes, and listening to the waves which noisily broke upon theshore and on the beach, tossing the spray into the air with a noisethat echoed in the distance. "But, " exclaimed De Guiche, "what isBuckingham's motive for providing such a supply of lodgings?"

"Yes, yes, " said De Wardes; "what reason has he?"

"A very excellent one, " replied Manicamp. 

"You know what it is, then?"

"I fancy I do. "

"Tell us then. "

"Bend your head down towards me. "

"What! may it not be spoken except in private?"

"You shall judge of that yourself. "

"Very well. " De Guiche bent down. 

"Love, " said Manicamp. 

"I do not understand you at all. "

"Say rather, you cannot understand me yet. "

"Explain yourself. "

"Very well; it is quite certain, count, that his royal highness will bethe most unfortunate of husbands. "

"What do you mean?"

"The Duke of Buckingham----"

"It is a name of ill omen to the princes of the house of France. "

"And so the duke is madly in love with Madame, so the rumor runs, andwill have no one approach her but himself. "

De Guiche colored. "Thank you, thank you, " said he to Manicamp, graspinghis hand. Then, recovering himself, added, "Whatever you do, Manicamp, be careful that this project of Buckingham's is not made known to anyFrenchman here; for, if so, many a sword would be unsheathed in thiscountry that does not fear English steel. "

"But after all, " said Manicamp, "I have had no satisfactory proof givenme of the love in question, and it may be no more than an idle tale. "

"No, no, " said De Guiche, "it must be the truth;" and despite hiscommand over himself, he clenched his teeth. 

"Well, " said Manicamp, "after all, what does it matter to you? Whatdoes it matter to me whether the prince is to be what the late kingwas? Buckingham the father for the queen, Buckingham the son for theprincess. "

"Manicamp! Manicamp!

"It is a fact, or at least, everybody says so. "

"Silence!" cried the count. 

"But why, silence?" said De Wardes, "it is a highly creditablecircumstance for the French nation. Are not you of my opinion, Monsieurde Bragelonne?"

"To what circumstance do you allude?" inquired De Bragelonne with anabstracted air. 

"That the English should render homage to the beauty of our queens andour princesses. "

"Forgive me, but I have not been paying attention to what has passed;will you oblige me by explaining. 

"There is no doubt it was necessary that Buckingham the father shouldcome to Paris in order that his majesty, King Louis XIII. , shouldperceive that his wife was one of the most beautiful women of the Frenchcourt; and it seems necessary, at the present time, that Buckingham theson should consecrate, by the devotion of his worship, the beauty of aprincess who has French blood in her veins. The fact of having inspireda passion on the other side of the Channel will henceforth confer atitle to beauty on this. "

"Sir, " replied De Bragelonne, "I do not like to hear such matterstreated so lightly. Gentlemen like ourselves should be careful guardiansof the honor of our queens and our princesses. If we jest at them, whatwill our servants do?"

"How am I to understand that?" said De Wardes, whose ears tingled at theremark. 

"In any way you choose, monsieur, " replied De Bragelonne, coldly. 

"Bragelonne, Bragelonne, " murmured De Guiche. 

"M. De Wardes, " exclaimed Manicamp, noticing that the young man hadspurred his horse close to the side of Raoul. 

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, " said De Guiche, "do not set such an example inpublic, in the street too. De Wardes, you are wrong. "

"Wrong; in what way, may I ask?"

"You are wrong, monsieur, because you are always speaking ill of someoneor something, " replied Raoul with undisturbed composure. 

"Be indulgent, Raoul, " said De Guiche, in an undertone. 

"Pray do not think of fighting, gentlemen!" said Manicamp, "before youhave rested yourselves; for in that case you will not be able to domuch. "

"Come, " said De Guiche, "forward, gentlemen!" and breaking through thehorses and attendants, he cleared the way for himself towards the centerof the square, through the crowd, followed by the whole cavalcade. Alarge gateway looking out upon a courtyard was open; Guiche entered thecourtyard, and Bragelonne, De Wardes, Manicamp, and three or four othergentlemen, followed him. A sort of council of war was held, andthe means to be employed for saving the dignity of the embassy weredeliberated upon. Bragelonne was of opinion that the right of priorityshould be respected, while De Wardes suggested that the town should besacked. This latter proposition appearing to Manicamp rather premature, he proposed instead that they should first rest themselves. This wasthe wisest thing to do, but, unhappily, to follow his advice, two thingswere wanting; namely, a house and beds. De Guiche reflected for awhile, and then said aloud, "Let him who loves me, follow me!"

"The attendants also?" inquired a page who had approached the group. 

"Every one, " exclaimed the impetuous young man. "Manicamp, show us theway to the house destined for her Royal Highness's residence. "

Without in any way divining the count's project, his friends followedhim, accompanied by a crowd of people whose acclamations and delightseemed a happy omen for the success of that project with which they wereyet unacquainted. The wind was blowing strongly from the harbor, andmoaning in fitful gusts. 

CHAPTER 84. At Sea

The following day was somewhat calmer, although the gale stillcontinued. The sun had, however, risen through a bank of orange clouds, tingeing with its cheerful rays the crests of the black waves. Watch wasimpatiently kept from the different look-outs. Towards eleven o'clock inthe morning a ship, with sails full set, was signalled as in view; twoothers followed at the distance of about half a knot. They approachedlike arrows shot from the bow of a skillful archer; and yet the sea ranso high that their speed was as nothing compared to the rolling of thebillows in which the vessels were plunging first in one direction andthen in another. The English fleet was soon recognized by the line ofthe ships, and by the color of their pennants; the one which had theprincess on board and carried the admiral's flag preceded the others. 

The rumor now spread that the princess was arriving. The whole Frenchcourt ran to the harbor, while the quays and jetties were soon coveredby crowds of people. Two hours afterwards, the other vessels hadovertaken the flagship, and the three, not venturing perhaps to enterthe narrow entrance of the harbor, cast anchor between Havre and LaHeve. When the maneuver had been completed, the vessel which borethe admiral saluted France by twelve discharges of cannon, which werereturned, discharge for discharge, from Fort Francis I. Immediatelyafterwards a hundred boats were launched; they were covered with therichest stuffs, and destined for the conveyance of the different membersof the French nobility towards the vessels at anchor. But when it wasobserved that even inside the harbor the boats were tossed to and fro, and that beyond the jetty the waves rose mountains high, dashing uponthe shore with a terrible uproar, it will readily be believed that notone of those frail boats would be able with safety to reach a fourthpart of the distance between the shore and the vessels at anchor. Apilot-boat, however, notwithstanding the wind and the sea, was gettingready to leave the harbor, for the purpose of placing itself at theadmiral's disposal. 

De Guiche, who had been looking among the different boats for onestronger than the others, which might offer a chance of reaching theEnglish vessels, perceiving the pilot-boat getting ready to start, saidto Raoul: "Do you not think, Raoul, that intelligent and vigorous men, as we are, ought to be ashamed to retreat before the brute strength ofwind and waves?"

"That is precisely the very reflection I was silently making to myself, "replied Bragelonne. 

"Shall we get into that boat, then, and push off? Will you come, DeWardes?"

"Take care, or you will get drowned, " said Manicamp. 

"And for no purpose, " said De Wardes, "for with the wind in your teeth, as it will be, you will never reach the vessels. "

"You refuse, then?"

"Assuredly I do; I would willingly risk and lose my life in an encounteragainst men, " he said, glancing at Bragelonne, "but as to fighting withoars against waves, I have no taste for that. "

"And for myself, " said Manicamp, "even were I to succeed in reaching theships, I should not be indifferent to the loss of the only good dresswhich I have left, --salt water would spoil it. "

"You, then, refuse also?" exclaimed De Guiche. 

"Decidedly I do; I beg you to understand that most distinctly. "

"But, " exclaimed De Guiche, "look, De Wardes--look, Manicamp--lookyonder, the princesses are looking at us from the poop of the admiral'svessel. "

"An additional reason, my dear fellow, why we should not make ourselvesridiculous by being drowned while they are looking on. "

"Is that your last word, Manicamp?"

"Yes. "

"And then yours, De Wardes?"

"Yes. "

"Then I go alone. "

"Not so, " said Raoul, "for I shall accompany you; I thought it wasunderstood I should do so. "

The fact is, that Raoul, uninfluenced by devotion, measuring the riskthey run, saw how imminent the danger was, but he willingly allowedhimself to accept a peril which De Wardes had declined. 

The boat was about to set off when De Guiche called to the pilot. "Stay, " said he: "we want two places in your boat;" and wrapping five orsix pistoles in paper, he threw them from the quay into the boat. 

"It seems you are not afraid of salt water, young gentlemen. "

"We are afraid of nothing, " replied De Guiche. 

"Come along, then. "

The pilot approached the side of the boat, and the two young men, oneafter the other, with equal vivacity, jumped into the boat. "Courage, mymen, " said De Guiche; "I have twenty pistoles left in this purse, and assoon as we reach the admiral's vessel they shall be yours. " The sailorsbent themselves to their oars, and the boat bounded over the crestof the waves. The interest taken in this hazardous expedition wasuniversal; the whole population of Havre hurried towards the jetties andevery look was directed towards the little bark; at one moment itflew suspended on the crest of the foaming waves, then suddenly glideddownwards towards the bottom of a raging abyss, where it seemed utterlylost. At the expiration of an hour's struggling with the waves, itreached the spot where the admiral's vessel was anchored, and from theside of which two boats had already been dispatched towards their aid. Upon the quarter-deck of the flagship, sheltered by a canopy of velvetand ermine, which was suspended by stout supports, Henrietta, thequeen dowager, and the young princess--with the admiral, the Duke ofNorfolk--standing beside them--watched with alarm this slender bark, atone moment tossed to the heavens, and the next buried beneath thewaves, and against whose dark sail the noble figures of the two Frenchgentlemen stood forth in relief like two luminous apparitions. The crew, leaning against the bulwarks and clinging to the shrouds, cheered thecourage of the two daring young men, the skill of the pilot, and thestrength of the sailors. They were received at the side of the vesselby a shout of triumph. The Duke of Norfolk, a handsome young man, fromtwenty-six to twenty-eight years of age, advanced to meet them. DeGuiche and Bragelonne lightly mounted the ladder on the starboard side, and conducted by the Duke of Norfolk, who resumed his place near them, they approached to offer their homage to the princesses. Respect, andyet more, a certain apprehension, for which he could not account, had hitherto restrained the Comte de Guiche from looking at Madameattentively, who, however, had observed him immediately, and had askedher mother, "Is not that Monsieur in the boat yonder?" Madame Henriettawho knew Monsieur better than her daughter did, smiled at the mistakeher vanity had led her into, and had answered, "No; it is only M. DeGuiche, his favorite. " The princess, at this reply, was constrained tocheck an instinctive tenderness of feeling which the courage displayedby the count had awakened. At the very moment the princess had put thisquestion to her mother, De Guiche had, at last, summoned courage toraise his eyes towards her and could compare the original with theportrait he had so lately seen. No sooner had he remarked her paleface, her eyes so full of animation, her beautiful nut-brown hair, herexpressive lips, and her every gesture, which, while betokening royaldescent, seemed to thank and to encourage him at one and the same time, than he was, for a moment, so overcome, that, had it not been for Raoul, on whose arm he leant, he would have fallen. His friend's amazedlook, and the encouraging gesture of the queen, restored Guiche to hisself-possession. In a few words he explained his mission, explained inwhat way he had become the envoy of his royal highness; and saluted, according to their rank and the reception they gave him, the admiral andseveral of the English noblemen who were grouped around the princesses. 

Raoul was then presented, and was most graciously received; the sharethat the Comte de la Fere had had in the restoration of Charles II. Wasknown to all; and, more than that, it was the comte who had beencharged with the negotiation of the marriage, by means of which thegranddaughter of Henry IV. Was now returning to France. Raoul spokeEnglish perfectly, and constituted himself his friend's interpreter withthe young English noblemen, who were indifferently acquainted with theFrench language. At this moment a young man came forward, of extremelyhandsome features, and whose dress and arms were remarkable for theirextravagance of material. He approached the princesses, who were engagedin conversation with the Duke of Norfolk, and, in a voice which illconcealed his impatience, said, "It is time now to disembark, your royalhighness. " The younger of the princesses rose from her seat at thisremark, and was about to take the hand which the young nobleman extendedto her, with an eagerness which arose from a variety of motives, whenthe admiral intervened between them, observing; "A moment, if youplease, my lord; it is not possible for ladies to disembark just now, the sea is too rough; it is probable the wind may abate before sunset, and the landing will not be effected, therefore, until this evening. "

"Allow me to observe, my lord, " said Buckingham, with an irritation ofmanner which he did not seek to disguise, "you detain these ladies, and you have no right to do so. One of them, unhappily, now belongs toFrance, and you perceive that France claims them by the voice of herambassadors;" and at the same moment he indicated Raoul and Guiche, whomhe saluted. 

"I cannot suppose that these gentlemen intend to expose the lives oftheir royal highnesses, " replied the admiral. 

"These gentlemen, " retorted Buckingham, "arrived here safely, notwithstanding the wind; allow me to believe that the danger will notbe greater for their royal highnesses when the wind will be in theirfavor. "

"These envoys have shown how great their courage is, " said the admiral. "You may have observed that there was a great number of persons on shorewho did not venture to accompany them. Moreover, the desire which theyhad to show their respect with the least possible delay to Madame andher illustrious mother induced them to brave the sea, which is verytempestuous to-day, even for sailors. These gentlemen, however, whom Irecommend as an example for my officers to follow, can hardly be so forthese ladies. "

Madame glanced at the Comte de Guiche, and perceived that his face wasburning with confusion. This look had escaped Buckingham, who had eyesfor nothing but Norfolk, of whom he was evidently very jealous; heseemed anxious to remove the princesses from the deck of a vessel wherethe admiral reigned supreme. "In that case, " returned Buckingham, "Iappeal to Madame herself. "

"And I, my lord, " retorted the admiral, "I appeal to my own conscience, and to my own sense of responsibility. I have undertaken to conveyMadame safe and sound to France, and I shall keep my promise. "

"But sir----" continued Buckingham. 

"My lord, permit me to remind you that I command here. "

"Are you aware what you are saying, my lord?" replied Buckingham, haughtily. 

"Perfectly so; I therefore repeat it: I alone command here, all yieldobedience to me; the sea and the winds, the ships and men too. " Thisremark was made in a dignified and authoritative manner. Raoul observedits effect upon Buckingham, who trembled with anger from head to foot, and leaned against one of the poles of the tent to prevent himselffalling; his eyes became suffused with blood, and the hand which he didnot need for his support wandered towards the hilt of his sword. 

"My lord, " said the queen, "permit me to observe that I agree in everyparticular with the Duke of Norfolk; if the heavens, instead of beingclouded as they are at the present moment, were perfectly serene andpropitious, we can still afford to bestow a few hours upon the officerwho has conducted us so successfully, and with such extreme attention, to the French coast, where he is to take leave of us. "

Buckingham, instead of replying, seemed to seek counsel from theexpression of Madame's face. She, however, half-concealed beneath thethick curtains of the velvet and gold which sheltered her, had notlistened to the discussion, having been occupied in watching the Comtede Guiche, who was conversing with Raoul. This was a fresh misfortunefor Buckingham, who fancied he perceived in Madame Henrietta's look adeeper feeling than that of curiosity. He withdrew, almost tottering inhis gait, and nearly stumbled against the mainmast of the ship. 

"The duke has not acquired a steady footing yet, " said the queen-mother, in French, "and that may possibly be his reason for wishing to findhimself on firm land again. "

The young man overheard this remark, turned suddenly pale, and, lettinghis hands fall in great discouragement by his side, drew aside, minglingin one sigh his old affection and his new hatreds. The admiral, however, without taking any further notice of the duke's ill-humor, led theprincesses into the quarter-deck cabin, where dinner had been servedwith a magnificence worthy in every respect of his guests. The admiralseated himself at the right hand of the princess, and placed the Comtede Guiche on her left. This was the place Buckingham usually occupied;and when he entered the cabin, how profound was his unhappiness to seehimself banished by etiquette from the presence of his sovereign, to aposition inferior to that which, by rank, he was entitled to. De Guiche, on the other hand, paler still perhaps from happiness, than his rivalwas from anger, seated himself tremblingly next the princess, whosesilken robe, as it lightly touched him, caused a tremor of mingledregret and happiness to pass through his whole frame. The repastfinished, Buckingham darted forward to hand Madame Henrietta from thetable; but this time it was De Guiche's turn to give the duke a lesson. "Have the goodness, my lord, from this moment, " said he, "not tointerpose between her royal highness and myself. From this moment, indeed, her royal highness belongs to France, and when she deigns tohonor me by touching my hand it is the hand of Monsieur, the brother ofthe king of France, she touches. "

And saying this, he presented his hand to Madame Henrietta with suchmarked deference, and at the same time with a nobleness of mien sointrepid, that a murmur of admiration rose from the English, whilsta groan of despair escaped from Buckingham's lips. Raoul, who loved, comprehended it all. He fixed upon his friend one of those profoundlooks which a bosom friend or mother can alone extend, either asprotector or guardian, over the one who is about to stray from the rightpath. Towards two o'clock in the afternoon the sun shone forth anew, thewind subsided, the sea became smooth as a crystal mirror, and the fog, which had shrouded the coast, disappeared like a veil withdrawn frombefore it. The smiling hills of France appeared in full view with theirnumerous white houses rendered more conspicuous by the bright green ofthe trees or the clear blue sky. 

CHAPTER 85. The Tents

The admiral, as we have seen, was determined to pay no further attentionto Buckingham's threatening glances and fits of passion. In fact, fromthe moment they quitted England, he had gradually accustomed himself tohis behavior. De Guiche had not yet in any way remarked the animositywhich appeared to influence that young nobleman against him, but hefelt, instinctively, that there could be no sympathy between himself andthe favorite of Charles II. The queen-mother, with greater experienceand calmer judgment, perceived the exact position of affairs, and, asshe discerned its danger, was prepared to meet it, whenever the propermoment should arrive. Quiet had been everywhere restored, except inBuckingham's heart; he, in his impatience, addressed himself to theprincess, in a low tone of voice: "For Heaven's sake, madame, I imploreyou to hasten your disembarkation. Do you not perceive how that insolentDuke of Norfolk is killing me with his attentions and devotions to you?"

Henrietta heard this remark; she smiled, and without turning her headtowards him, but giving only to the tone of her voice that inflection ofgentle reproach, and languid impertinence, which women and princesses sowell know how to assume, she murmured, "I have already hinted, my lord, that you must have taken leave of your senses. "

Not a single detail escaped Raoul's attention; he heard bothBuckingham's entreaty and the princess's reply; he remarked Buckinghamretire, heard his deep sigh, and saw him pass his hand across his face. He understood everything, and trembled as he reflected on the positionof affairs, and the state of the minds of those about him. At last theadmiral, with studied delay, gave the last orders for the departure ofthe boats. 

Buckingham heard the directions given with such an exhibition ofdelight that a stranger would really imagine the young man's reasonwas affected. As the Duke of Norfolk gave his commands, a large boat orbarge, decked with flags, and capable of holding about twenty rowers andfifteen passengers, was slowly lowered from the side of the admiral'svessel. The barge was carpeted with velvet and decorated with coveringsembroidered with the arms of England, and with garlands of flowers; for, at that time, ornamentation was by no means forgotten in these politicalpageants. No sooner was this really royal boat afloat and the rowerswith oars uplifted, awaiting, like soldiers presenting arms, theembarkation of the princess, than Buckingham ran forward to the ladderin order to take his place. His progress was, however, arrested by thequeen. "My lord, " she said, "it is hardly becoming that you should allowmy daughter and myself to land without having previously ascertainedthat our apartments are properly prepared. I beg your lordship to begood enough to precede us ashore, and to give directions that everythingbe in proper order on our arrival. "

This was a fresh disappointment for the duke, and, still more so, sinceit was so unexpected. He hesitated, colored violently, but could notreply. He had thought he might be able to keep near Madame during thepassage to the shore, and, by this means, to enjoy to the very lastmoment the brief period fortune still reserved for him. The order, however, was explicit; and the admiral, who heard it given, immediatelycalled out, "Launch the ship's gig. " His directions were executed withthat celerity which distinguishes every maneuver on board a man-of-war. 

Buckingham, in utter hopelessness, cast a look of despair at theprincess, of supplication towards the queen, and directed a glance fullof anger towards the admiral. The princess pretended not to notice him, while the queen turned aside her head, and the admiral laughed outright, at the sound of which Buckingham seemed ready to spring upon him. Thequeen-mother rose, and with a tone of authority said, "Pray set off, sir. "

The young duke hesitated, looked around him, and with a last effort, half-choked by contending emotions, said, "And you, gentlemen, M. DeGuiche and M. De Bragelonne, do not you accompany me?"

De Guiche bowed and said, "Both M. De Bragelonne and myself await hermajesty's orders; whatever the commands she imposes on us, we shall obeythem. " Saying this, he looked towards the princess, who cast down hereyes. 

"Your grace will remember, " said the queen, "that M. De Guiche is hereto represent Monsieur; it is he who will do the honors of France, asyou have done those of England; his presence cannot be dispensed with;besides, we owe him this slight favor for the courage he displayed inventuring to seek us in such a terrible stress of weather. "

Buckingham opened his lips, as if he were about to speak, but, whetherthoughts or expressions failed him, not a syllable escaped them, andturning away, as though out of his mind, he leapt from the vessel intothe boat. The sailors were just in time to catch hold of him to steadythemselves; for his weight and the rebound had almost upset the boat. 

"His grace cannot be in his senses, " said the admiral aloud to Raoul. 

"I am uneasy on the Duke's account, " replied Bragelonne. 

While the boat was advancing towards the shore, the duke kept his eyesimmovably fixed upon the admiral's ship, like a miser torn away from hiscoffers, or a mother separated from her child, about to be led away todeath. No one, however, acknowledged his signals, his frowns, or hispitiful gestures. In very anguish of mind, he sank down in the boat, burying his hands in his hair, whilst the boat, impelled by theexertions of the merry sailors, flew over the waves. On his arrival hewas in such a state of apathy, that, had he not been received at theharbor by the messenger whom he had directed to precede him, he wouldhardly have had strength to ask his way. Having once, however, reachedthe house which had been set apart for him, he shut himself up, likeAchilles in his tent. The barge bearing the princesses quitted theadmiral's vessel at the very moment Buckingham landed. It was followedby another boat filled with officers, courtiers, and zealous friends. Great numbers of the inhabitants of Havre, having embarked infishing-cobles and boats of every description, set off to meet the royalbarge. The cannon from the forts fired salutes, which were returned bythe flagship and the two other vessels, and the flashes from theopen mouths of the cannon floated in white fumes over the waves, anddisappeared in the clear blue sky. 

The princess landed at the decorated quay. Bands of gay music greetedher arrival, and accompanied her every step she took. During the timeshe was passing through the center of the town, and treading beneath herdelicate feet the richest carpets and the gayest flowers, which had beenstrewn upon the ground, De Guiche and Raoul, escaping from their Englishfriends, hurried through the town and hastened rapidly towards the placeintended for the residence of Madame. 

"Let us hurry forward, " said Raoul to De Guiche, "for if I readBuckingham's character aright, he will create some disturbance, when helearns the result of our deliberations of yesterday. "

"Never fear, " said De Guiche, "De Wardes is there, who is determinationitself, while Manicamp is the very personification of artlessgentleness. "

De Guiche was not, however, the less diligent on that account, and fiveminutes afterwards they were within sight of the Hotel de Ville. Thefirst thing which struck them was the number of people assembled inthe square. "Excellent, " said De Guiche; "our apartments, I see, areprepared. "

In fact, in front of the Hotel de Ville, upon the wide open space beforeit, eight tents had been raised, surmounted by the flags of France andEngland united. The hotel was surrounded by tents, as by a girdle ofvariegated colors; ten pages and a dozen mounted troopers, who had beengiven to the ambassadors, for an escort, mounted guard before the tents. It had a singularly curious effect, almost fairy-like in its appearance. These tents had been constructed during the night-time. Fitted up, within and without, with the richest materials that De Guiche had beenable to procure in Havre, they completely encircled the Hotel de Ville. The only passage which led to the steps of the hotel, and which was notinclosed by the silken barricade, was guarded by two tents, resemblingtwo pavilions, the doorways of both of which opened towards theentrance. These two tents were destined for De Guiche and Raoul; inwhose absence they were intended to be occupied, that of De Guiche by DeWardes, and that of Raoul by Manicamp. Surrounding these two tents, andthe six others, a hundred officers, gentlemen, and pages, dazzling intheir display of silk and gold, thronged like bees buzzing about a hive. Every one of them, their swords by their sides, was ready to obey theslightest sign either of De Guiche or Bragelonne, the leaders of theembassy. 

At the very moment the two young men appeared at the end of one of thestreets leading to the square, they perceived, crossing the square atfull gallop, a young man on horseback, whose costume was of surprisingrichness. He pushed hastily through the crowd of curious lookers-on, and, at the sight of these unexpected erections, uttered a cry of angerand dismay. It was Buckingham, who had awakened from his stupor, inorder to adorn himself with a costume perfectly dazzling from itsbeauty, and to await the arrival of the princess and the queen-motherat the Hotel de Ville. At the entrance to the tents, the soldiersbarred his passage, and his further progress was arrested. Buckingham, hopelessly infuriated, raised his whip; but his arm was seized by acouple of officers. Of the two guardians of the tent, only one wasthere. De Wardes was in the interior of the Hotel de Ville, engaged inattending to the execution of some orders given by De Guiche. At thenoise made by Buckingham Manicamp, who was indolently reclining uponthe cushions at the doorway of one of the tents, rose with his usualindifference, and, perceiving that the disturbance continued, made hisappearance from underneath the curtains. "What is the matter?" he said, in a gentle tone of voice, "and who is it making this disturbance?"

It so happened, that, at the moment he began to speak, silence had justbeen restored, and, although his voice was very soft and gentle in itstone, every one heard his question. Buckingham turned round; and lookedat the tall, thin figure, and the listless expression of countenance ofhis questioner. Probably the personal appearance of Manicamp, who wasdressed very plainly, did not inspire him with much respect, for hereplied disdainfully, "Who may you be, monsieur?"

Manicamp, leaning on the arm of a gigantic trooper, as firm asthe pillar of a cathedral, replied in his usual tranquil tone ofvoice, --"And you, monsieur?"

"I, monsieur, am the Duke of Buckingham; I have hired all the houseswhich surround the Hotel de Ville, where I have business to transact;and as these houses are let, they belong to me, and, as I hired them inorder to preserve the right of free access to the Hotel de Ville, youare not justified in preventing me passing to it. "

"But who prevents you passing, monsieur?" inquired Manicamp. 

"Your sentinels. "

"Because you wish to pass on horseback, and orders have been given tolet only persons on foot pass. "

"No one has any right to give orders here, except myself, " saidBuckingham. 

"On what grounds?" inquired Manicamp, with his soft tone. "Will you dome the favor to explain this enigma to me?"

"Because, as I have already told you, I have hired all the houseslooking on the square. "

"We are very well aware of that, since nothing but the square itself hasbeen left for us. "

"You are mistaken, monsieur; the square belongs to me, as well as thehouses in it. "

"Forgive me, monsieur, but you are mistaken there. In our country, we say, the highway belongs to the king, therefore this square is hismajesty's; and, consequently, as we are the king's ambassadors, thesquare belongs to us. "

"I have already asked you who you are, monsieur, " exclaimed Buckingham, exasperated at the coolness of his interlocutor. 

"My name is Manicamp, " replied the young man, in a voice whose toneswere as harmonious and sweet as the notes of an AEolian harp. 

Buckingham shrugged his shoulders contemptuously, and said, "When Ihired these houses which surround the Hotel de Ville, the square wasunoccupied; these barracks obstruct my sight; I hereby order them to beremoved. "

A hoarse and angry murmur ran through the crowd of listeners at thesewords. De Guiche arrived at this moment; he pushed through the crowdwhich separated him from Buckingham, and, followed by Raoul, arrived onthe scene of action from one side, just as De Wardes came up from theother. "Pardon me, my lord; but if you have any complaint to make, havethe goodness to address it to me, inasmuch as it was I who supplied theplans for the construction of these tents. "

"Moreover, I would beg you to observe, monsieur, that the term 'barrack'is a highly objectionable one!" added Manicamp, graciously. 

"You were saying, monsieur--" continued De Guiche. 

"I was saying, monsieur le comte, " resumed Buckingham, in a tone ofanger more marked than ever, although in some measure moderated by thepresence of an equal, "I was saying that it is impossible these tentscan remain where they are. "

"Impossible!" exclaimed De Guiche, "and why?"

"Because I object to them. "

A movement of impatience escaped De Guiche, but a warning glance fromRaoul restrained him. 

"You should the less object to them, monsieur, on account of the abuseof priority you have permitted yourself to exercise. "

"Abuse!"

"Most assuredly. You commission a messenger, who hires in your namethe whole of the town of Havre, without considering the members of theFrench court, who would be sure to arrive here to meet Madame. Your Grace will admit that this is hardly friendly conduct in therepresentative of a friendly nation. "

"The right of possession belongs to him who is first on the ground. "

"Not in France, monsieur. "

"Why not in France?"

"Because France is a country where politeness is observed. "

"Which means!" exclaimed Buckingham, in so violent a manner that thosewho were present drew back, expecting an immediate collision. 

"Which means, monsieur, " replied De Guiche, now rather pale, "thatI caused these tents to be raised as habitations for myself and myfriends, as a shelter for the ambassadors of France, as the only placeof refuge which your exactions have left us in the town; and that Iand those who are with me, shall remain in them, at least, until anauthority more powerful, and more supreme, than your own shall dismissme from them. "

"In other words, until we are ejected, as the lawyers say, " observedManicamp, blandly. 

"I know an authority, monsieur, which I trust is such as you willrespect, " said Buckingham, placing his hand on his sword. 

At this moment, and as the goddess of Discord, inflaming all minds, wasabout to direct their swords against each other, Raoul gently placed hishand on Buckingham's shoulder. "One word, my lord, " he said. 

"My right, my right, first of all, " exclaimed the fiery young man. 

"It is precisely upon that point I wish to have the honor of addressinga word to you. "

"Very well, monsieur, but let your remarks be brief. "

"One question is all I ask; you can hardly expect me to be briefer. "

"Speak, monsieur, I am listening. "

"Are you, or is the Duke of Orleans, going to marry the granddaughter ofHenry IV. ?"

"What do you mean?" exclaimed Buckingham, retreating a few steps, bewildered. 

"Have the goodness to answer me, " persisted Raoul, tranquilly. 

"Do you mean to ridicule me, monsieur?" inquired Buckingham. 

"Your question is a sufficient answer for me. You admit, then, that itis not you who are going to marry the princess?"

"Thou know it perfectly well, monsieur, I should imagine. "

"I beg your pardon, but your conduct has been such as to leave it notaltogether certain. "

"Proceed, monsieur, what do you mean to convey?"

Raoul approached the duke. "Are you aware, my lord, " he said, loweringhis voice, "that your extravagances very much resemble the excessesof jealousy? These jealous fits, with respect to any woman, are notbecoming in one who is neither her lover nor her husband; and I am sureyou will admit that my remark applies with still greater force, when thelady in question is a princess of the blood royal!"

"Monsieur, " exclaimed Buckingham, "do you mean to insult MadameHenrietta?"

"Be careful, my lord, " replied Bragelonne, coldly, "for it is you whoinsult her. A little while since, when on board the admiral's ship, you wearied the queen, and exhausted the admiral's patience. Iwas observing, my lord; and, at first, I concluded you were notin possession of your senses, but I have since surmised the realsignificance of your madness. "

"Monsieur!" exclaimed Buckingham. 

"One moment more, for I have yet another word to add. I trust I am theonly one of my companions who has guessed it. "

"Are you aware, monsieur, " said Buckingham, trembling with mingledfeelings of anger and uneasiness, "are you aware that you are holdinglanguage towards me which requires to be checked?"

"Weigh your words well, my lord, " said Raoul, haughtily: "my nature isnot such that its vivacities need checking; whilst you, on the contrary, are descended from a race whose passions are suspected by all trueFrenchmen; I repeat, therefore, for the second time, be careful!"

"Careful of what, may I ask? Do you presume to threaten me?"

"I am the son of the Comte de la Fere, my lord, and I never threaten, because I strike first. Therefore, understand me well, the threat that Ihold out to you is this----"

Buckingham clenched his hands, but Raoul continued, as though he had notobserved the gesture. "At the very first word, beyond the respect anddeference due to her royal highness, which you permit yourself to usetowards her, --be patient, my lord, for I am perfectly so. "

"You?"

"Undoubtedly. So long as Madame remained on English territory, I heldmy peace; but from the very moment she stepped on French ground, and nowthat we have received her in the name of the prince, I warn you, thatat the first mark of disrespect which you, in your insane attachment, exhibit towards the royal house of France, I shall have one of twocourses to follow;--either I declare, in the presence of every one, themadness with which you are now affected, and I get you ignominiouslyordered back to England; or if you prefer it, I will run my daggerthrough your throat in the presence of all here. This second alternativeseems to me the least disagreeable, and I think I shall hold to it. "

Buckingham had become paler than the lace collar around his neck. "M. De Bragelonne, " he said, "is it, indeed, a gentleman who is speaking tome?"

"Yes; only the gentleman is speaking to a madman. Get cured, my lord, and he will hold quite another language to you. "

"But, M. De Bragelonne, " murmured the duke, in a voice, half-choked, andputting his hand to his neck, --"Do you not see I am choking?"

"If your death were to take place at this moment, my lord, " repliedRaoul, with unruffled composure, "I should, indeed, regard it as agreat happiness, for this circumstance would prevent all kinds of evilremarks; not alone about yourself, but also about those illustriouspersons whom your devotion is compromising in so absurd a manner. "

"You are right, you are right, " said the young man, almost besidehimself. "Yes, yes; better to die, than to suffer as I do at thismoment. " And he grasped a beautiful dagger, the handle of which wasinlaid with precious stones; and which he half drew from his breast. 

Raoul thrust his hand aside. "Be careful what you do, " he said; "if youdo not kill yourself, you commit a ridiculous action; and if you were tokill yourself, you sprinkle blood upon the nuptial robe of the princessof England. "

Buckingham remained a minute gasping for breath; during this interval, his lips quivered, his fingers worked convulsively, and his eyeswandered as though in delirium. Then suddenly, he said, "M. DeBragelonne, I know nowhere a nobler mind than yours; you are, indeed, a worthy son of the most perfect gentleman that ever lived. Keep yourtents. " And he threw his arms round Raoul's neck. All who were present, astounded at this conduct, which was the very reverse of what wasexpected, considering the violence of the one adversary and thedetermination of the other, began immediately to clap their hands, anda thousand cheers and joyful shouts arose from all sides. De Guiche, inhis turn, embraced Buckingham somewhat against his inclination; but, at all events, he did embrace him. This was the signal for French andEnglish to do the same; and they who, until that moment, had looked ateach other with restless uncertainty, fraternized on the spot. In themeantime, the procession of the princess arrived, and had it not beenfor Bragelonne, two armies would have been engaged together in conflict, and blood have been shed upon the flowers with which the ground wascovered. At the appearance, however, of the banners borne at the head ofthe procession, complete order was restored. 

CHAPTER 86. Night

Concord returned to its place amidst the tents. English and Frenchrivaled each other in their devotion and courteous attention to theillustrious travelers. The English forwarded to the French basketsof flowers, of which they had made a plentiful provision to greet thearrival of the young princess; the French in return invited the Englishto a supper, which was to be given the next day. Congratulations werepoured in upon the princess everywhere during her journey. From therespect paid her on all sides, she seemed like a queen; and from theadoration with which she was treated by two or three, she appearedan object of worship. The queen-mother gave the French the mostaffectionate reception. France was her native country, and she hadsuffered too much unhappiness in England for England to have made herforget France. She taught her daughter, then, by her own affectionfor it, that love for a country where they had both been hospitablyreceived, and where a brilliant future opened before them. After thepublic entry was over, and the spectators in the streets had partiallydispersed, and the sound of the music and cheering of the crowd could beheard only in the distance; when the night had closed in, wrapping withits star-covered mantle the sea, the harbor, the town, and surroundingcountry, De Guiche, still excited by the great events of the day, returned to his tent, and seated himself upon one of the stools with soprofound an expression of distress that Bragelonne kept his eyes fixedon him, until he heard him sigh, and then he approached him. The counthad thrown himself back on his seat, leaning his shoulders against thepartition of the tent, and remained thus, his face buried in his hands, with heaving chest and restless limbs. 

"You are suffering?" asked Raoul. 

"Cruelly. "

"Bodily, I suppose?"

"Yes; bodily. "

"This has indeed been a harassing day, " continued the young man, hiseyes fixed upon his friend. 

"Yes; a night's rest will probably restore me. "

"Shall I leave you?"

"No; I wish to talk to you. "

"You shall not speak to me, Guiche, until you have first answered myquestions. "

"Proceed then. "

"You will be frank with me?"

"I always am. "

"Can you imagine why Buckingham has been so violent?"

"I suspect. "

"Because he is in love with Madame, is it not?"

"One could almost swear to it, to observe him. "

"You are mistaken; there is nothing of the kind. "

"It is you who are mistaken, Raoul; I have read his distress in hiseyes, in his every gesture and action the whole day. "

"You are a poet, my dear count, and find subject for your museeverywhere. "

"I can perceive love clearly enough. "

"Where it does not exist?"

"Nay, where it does exist. "

"Do you not think you are deceiving yourself, Guiche?"

"I am convinced of what I say, " said the count. 

"Now, inform me count, " said Raoul, fixing a penetrating look upon him, "what has happened to render you so clear-sighted?"

Guiche hesitated for a moment, and then answered, "Self-love, Isuppose. "

"Self-love is a pedantic word, Guiche. "

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that, generally, you are less out of spirits than seems to bethe case this evening. "

"I am fatigued. "

"Listen to me, Guiche; we have been campaigners together; we have beenon horseback for eighteen hours at a time, and our horses dying fromexhaustion, or hunger, have fallen beneath us, and yet we havelaughed at our mishaps. Believe me, it is not fatigue that saddens youto-night. "

"It is annoyance, then. "

"What annoyance?"

"That of this evening. "

"The mad conduct of the Duke of Buckingham, do you mean?"

"Of course; is it not vexatious for us, the representatives of oursovereign master, to witness the devotion of an Englishman to our futuremistress, the second lady in point of rank in the kingdom?"

"Yes, you are right; but I do not think any danger is to be apprehendedfrom Buckingham. "

"No; still he is intrusive. Did he not, on his arrival here, almostsucceed in creating a disturbance between the English and ourselves;and, had it not been for you, for your admirable prudence, for yoursingular decision of character, swords would have been drawn in the verystreets of the town. "

"You observe, however, that he has changed his tactics. "

"Yes, certainly; but this is the very thing that amazes me so much. Youspoke to him in a low tone of voice, what did you say to him? You thinkhe loves her; you admit that such a passion does not give way readily. He does not love her, then!" De Guiche pronounced the latter with somarked an expression that Raoul raised his head. The noble character ofthe young man's countenance expressed a displeasure which could easilybe read. 

"What I said to him, count, " replied Raoul, "I will repeat to you. Listen to me. I said, 'You are regarding with wistful feelings, and mostinjurious desire, the sister of your prince, --her to whom you arenot affianced, who is not, who can never be anything to you; you areoutraging those who, like ourselves, have come to seek a young lady toescort her to her husband. '"

"You spoke to him in that manner?" asked Guiche coloring. 

"In those very terms; I even added more. 'How would you regard us, 'I said, 'if you were to perceive among us a man mad enough, disloyalenough, to entertain other than sentiments of the most perfect respectfor a princess who is the destined wife of our master?'"

These words were so applicable to De Guiche that he turned pale, and, overcome by a sudden agitation, was barely able to stretch out one handmechanically towards Raoul, as he covered his eyes and face with theother. 

"But, " continued Raoul, not interrupted by this movement of his friend, "Heaven be praised, the French who are pronounced to be thoughtless andindiscreet, reckless, even, are capable of bringing a calm and soundjudgment to bear on matters of such high importance. I added evenmore, for I said, 'Learn, my lord, that we gentlemen of France devoteourselves to our sovereigns by sacrificing for them our affections, aswell as our fortunes and our lives; and whenever it may chance to happenthat the tempter suggests one of those vile thoughts that set the hearton fire, we extinguish the flame, even if it has to be done by sheddingour blood for the purpose. Thus it is that the honor of three is saved:our country's, our master's, and our own. It is thus that we act, yourGrace; it is thus that every man of honor ought to act. In this manner, my dear Guiche, " continued Raoul, "I addressed the Duke of Buckingham;and he admitted I was right, and resigned himself unresistingly to myarguments. "

De Guiche, who had hitherto sat leaning forward while Raoul wasspeaking, drew himself up, his eyes glancing proudly; he seized Raoul'shand, his face, which had been as cold as ice, seemed on fire. "And youspoke magnificently, " he said, in a half-choked voice; "you are indeed afriend, Raoul. But now, I entreat you, leave me to myself. "

"Do you wish it?"

"Yes; I need repose. Many things have agitated me to-day, both in mindand body; when you return tomorrow I shall no longer be the same man. "

"I leave you, then, " said Raoul, as he withdrew. The count advanced astep towards his friend, and pressed him warmly in his arms. But in thisfriendly pressure Raoul could detect the nervous agitation of a greatinternal conflict. 

The night was clear, starlit, and splendid; the tempest had passed away, and the sweet influences of the evening had restored life, peace andsecurity everywhere. A few fleecy clouds were floating in the heavens, and indicated from their appearance a continuance of beautiful weather, tempered by a gentle breeze from the east. Upon the large square infront of the hotel, the shadows of the tents, intersected by the goldenmoonbeams, formed as it were a huge mosaic of jet and yellow flagstones. Soon, however, the entire town was wrapped in slumber; a feeble lightstill glimmered in Madame's apartment, which looked out upon the square, and the soft rays from the expiring lamp seemed to be the image of thecalm sleep of a young girl, hardly yet sensible of life's anxieties, andin whom the flame of existence sinks placidly as sleep steals over thebody. 

Bragelonne quitted the tent with the slow and measured step of a mancurious to observe, but anxious not to be seen. Sheltered behind thethick curtains of his own tent, embracing with a glance the wholesquare, he noticed that, after a few moments' pause, the curtains of DeGuiche's tent were agitated, and then drawn partially aside. Behind themhe could perceive the shadow of De Guiche, his eyes glittering in theobscurity, fastened ardently upon the princess's sitting apartment, which was partially lighted by the lamp in the inner room. The softlight which illumined the windows was the count's star. The ferventaspirations of his nature could be read in his eyes. Raoul, concealedin the shadow, divined the many passionate thoughts that established, between the tent of the young ambassador and the balcony of theprincess, a mysterious and magical bond of sympathy--a bond created bythoughts imprinted with so much strength and persistence of will, that they must have caused happy and loving dreams to alight upon theperfumed couch, which the count, with the eyes of his soul, devoured soeagerly. 

But De Guiche and Raoul were not the only watchers. The window of oneof the houses looking on the square was opened too, the casement of thehouse where Buckingham resided. By the aid of the rays of light whichissued from this latter, the profile of the duke could be distinctlyseen, as he indolently reclined upon the carved balcony with its velvethangings; he also was breathing in the direction of the princess'sapartment his prayers and the wild visions of his love. 

Raoul could not resist smiling, as thinking of Madame, he said tohimself, "Hers is, indeed, a heart well besieged;" and then added, compassionately, as he thought of Monsieur, "and he is a husband wellthreatened too; it is a good thing for him that he is a prince of suchhigh rank, that he has an army to safeguard for him that which is hisown. " Bragelonne watched for some time the conduct of the two lovers, listened to the loud and uncivil slumbers of Manicamp, who snored asimperiously as though he was wearing his blue and gold, instead of hisviolet suit. 

Then he turned towards the night breeze which bore towards him, heseemed to think, the distant song of the nightingale; and, after havinglaid in a due provision of melancholy, another nocturnal malady, heretired to rest thinking, with regard to his own love affair, thatperhaps four or even a larger number of eyes, quite as ardent as thoseof De Guiche and Buckingham, were coveting his own idol in thechateau at Blois. "And Mademoiselle de Montalais is by no means a veryconscientious garrison, " said he to himself, sighing aloud. 

CHAPTER 87. From Havre to Paris

The next day the fetes took place, accompanied by all the pomp andanimation that the resources of the town and the cheerful dispositionof men's minds could supply. During the last few hours spent in Havre, every preparation for the departure had been made. After Madame hadtaken leave of the English fleet, and, once again, had saluted thecountry in saluting its flags, she entered her carriage, surrounded by abrilliant escort. De Guiche had hoped that the Duke of Buckinghamwould accompany the admiral to England; but Buckingham succeeded indemonstrating to the queen that there would be great impropriety inallowing Madame to proceed to Paris almost unprotected. As soon as ithad been settled that Buckingham was to accompany Madame, the youngduke selected a corps of gentlemen and officers to form part of his ownsuite, so that it was almost an army that now set out towards Paris, scattering gold, and exciting the liveliest demonstrations as theypassed through the different towns and villages on the route. Theweather was very fine. France is a beautiful country, especially alongthe route by which the procession passed. Spring cast its flowers andits perfumed foliage on their path. Normandy, with its vast variety ofvegetation, its blue skies and silver rivers, displayed itself in allthe loveliness of a paradise to the new sister of the king. Fetes andbrilliant displays received them everywhere along the line of march. De Guiche and Buckingham forgot everything; De Guiche in his anxiety toprevent any fresh attempts on the part of the duke, and Buckingham, inhis desire to awaken in the heart of the princess a softer remembranceof the country to which the recollection of many happy days belonged. But, alas! the poor duke could perceive that the image of that countryso cherished by himself became, from day to day, more and more effacedin Madame's mind, in exact proportion as her affection for France becamemore deeply engraved on her heart. In fact, it was not difficult toperceive that his most devoted attention awakened no acknowledgment, and that the grace with which he rode one of his most fiery horses wasthrown away, for it was only casually and by the merest accident thatthe princess's eyes were turned towards him. In vain did he try, in order to fix upon himself one of those looks, which were throwncarelessly around, or bestowed elsewhere, to produce in the animal herode its greatest display of strength, speed, temper and address; invain did he, by exciting his horse almost to madness, spur him, at therisk of dashing himself in pieces against the trees, or of rolling inthe ditches, over the gates and barriers which they passed, or down thesteep declivities of the hills. Madame, whose attention had been arousedby the noise, turned her head for a moment to observe the cause of it, and then, slightly smiling, again entered into conversation with herfaithful guardians, Raoul and De Guiche, who were quietly riding at hercarriage doors. Buckingham felt himself a prey to all the tortures ofjealousy; an unknown, unheard of anguish glided through his veins, andlaid siege to his heart; and then, as if to show that he knew thefolly of his conduct, and that he wished to correct, by the humblestsubmission, his flights of absurdity, he mastered his horse, andcompelled him, reeking with sweat and flecked with foam, to champhis bit close beside the carriage, amidst the crowd of courtiers. Occasionally he obtained a word from Madame as a recompense, and yet herspeech seemed almost a reproach. 

"That is well, my lord, " she said, "now you are reasonable. "

Or from Raoul, "Your Grace is killing your horse. "

Buckingham listened patiently to Raoul's remarks, for he instinctivelyfelt, without having had any proof that such was the case, that Raoulchecked the display of De Guiche's feelings, and that, had it notbeen for Raoul, some mad act or proceeding, either of the count, orof Buckingham himself, would have brought about an open rupture, or adisturbance--perhaps even exile itself. From the moment of that excitedconversation the two young men had held in front of the tents at Havre, when Raoul made the duke perceive the impropriety of his conduct, Buckingham felt himself attracted towards Raoul almost in spite ofhimself. He often entered into conversation with him, and it was nearlyalways to talk to him either of his father or of D'Artagnan, theirmutual friend, in whose praise Buckingham was nearly as enthusiastic asRaoul. Raoul endeavored, as much as possible, to make the conversationturn upon this subject in De Wardes's presence, who had, during thewhole journey, been exceedingly annoyed at the superior position takenby Bragelonne, and especially by his influence over De Guiche. De Wardeshad that keen and merciless penetration most evil natures possess; hehad immediately remarked De Guiche's melancholy, and divined the natureof his regard for the princess. Instead, however, of treating thesubject with the same reserve which Raoul practiced; instead ofregarding with that respect, which was their due, the obligationsand duties of society, De Wardes resolutely attacked in the count theever-sounding chord of juvenile audacity and pride. It happened oneevening, during a halt at Nantes, that while De Guiche and De Wardeswere leaning against a barrier, engaged in conversation, Buckingham andRaoul were also talking together as they walked up and down. Manicampwas engaged in devoted attendance on the princess, who already treatedhim without reserve, on account of his versatile fancy, his frankcourtesy of manner, and conciliatory disposition. 

"Confess, " said De Wardes, "that you are really ill and that yourpedagogue of a friend has not succeeded in curing you. "

"I do not understand you, " said the count. 

"And yet it is easy enough; you are dying of love. "

"You are mad, De Wardes. "

"Madness it would be, I admit, if Madame were really indifferent to yourmartyrdom; but she takes so much notice of it, observes it to such anextent, that she compromises herself, and I tremble lest, on our arrivalat Paris, M. De Bragelonne may not denounce both of you. "

"For shame, De Wardes, again attacking De Bragelonne. "

"Come, come, a truce to child's play, " replied the count's evil genius, in an undertone; "you know as well as I do what I mean. Besides, youmust have observed how the princess's glance softens as she looks atyou;--you can tell, by the very inflection of her voice, what pleasureshe takes in listening to you, and can feel how thoroughly sheappreciates the verses you recite to her. You cannot deny, too, thatevery morning she tells you how indifferently she slept the previousnight. "

"True, De Wardes, quite true; but what good is there in your telling meall that?"

"Is it not important to know the exact position of affairs?"

"No, no; not when I am a witness of things that are enough to drive onemad. "

"Stay, stay, " said De Wardes; "look, she calls you, --do you understand?Profit by the occasion, while your pedagogue is absent. "

De Guiche could not resist; an invincible attraction drew him towardsthe princess. De Wardes smiled as he saw him withdraw. 

"You are mistaken, monsieur, " said Raoul, suddenly stepping acrossthe barrier against which the previous moment the two friends had beenleaning. "The pedagogue is here, and has overheard you. "

De Wardes, at the sound of Raoul's voice, which he recognized withouthaving occasion to look at him, half drew his sword. 

"Put up your sword, " said Raoul, "you know perfectly well that, untilour journey is at an end, every demonstration of that nature is useless. Why do you distill into the heart of the man you term your friend allthe bitterness that infects your own? As regards myself, you wish toarouse a feeling of deep dislike against a man of honor--my father'sfriend and my own: and as for the count you wish him to love one whois destined for your master. Really, monsieur, I should regard you asa coward, and a traitor too, if I did not, with greater justice, regardyou as a madman. "

"Monsieur, " exclaimed De Wardes, exasperated, "I was deceived, I find, in terming you a pedagogue. The tone you assume, and the style whichis peculiarly your own, is that of a Jesuit, and not of a gentleman. Discontinue, I beg, whenever I am present, this style I complain of, andthe tone also. I hate M. D'Artagnan because he was guilty of a cowardlyact towards my father. "

"You lie, monsieur, " said Raoul, coolly. 

"You give me the lie, monsieur?" exclaimed De Wardes. 

"Why not, if what you assert is untrue?"

"You give me the lie and will not draw your sword?"

"I have resolved, monsieur, not to kill you until Madame shall have beendelivered safely into her husband's hands. "

"Kill me! Believe me, monsieur, your schoolmaster's rod does not kill soeasily. "

"No, " replied Raoul, sternly, "but M. D'Artagnan's sword kills; and, notonly do I possess his sword, but he has himself taught me how to use it:and with that sword, when a befitting time arrives, I will avenge hisname---a name you have dishonored. "

"Take care, monsieur, " exclaimed De Wardes; "if you do not immediatelygive me satisfaction, I will avail myself of every means to revengemyself. "

"Indeed, monsieur, " said Buckingham, suddenly, appearing upon thescene of action, "that is a threat which savors of assassination, andtherefore, ill becomes a gentleman. "

"What did you say, my lord?" said De Wardes, turning round towards him. 

"I said, monsieur, that the words you spoken are displeasing to myEnglish ears. "

"Very well, monsieur, if what you say is true, " exclaimed De Wardes, thoroughly incensed, "I at least find in you one who will not escape me. Understand my words as you like. "

"I take them in the manner they cannot but be understood, " repliedBuckingham, with that haughty tone which characterized him, and which, even in ordinary conversation, gave a tone of defiance to everything hesaid; "M. De Bragelonne is my friend, you insult M. De Bragelonne, andyou shall give me satisfaction for that insult. "

De Wardes cast a look upon De Bragelonne, who, faithful to the characterhe had assumed, remained calm and unmoved, even after the duke'sdefiance. 

"It would seem that I did not insult M. De Bragelonne, since M. DeBragelonne, who carries a sword by his side, does not consider himselfinsulted. "

"At all events you insult some one. "

"Yes, I insulted M. D'Artagnan, " resumed De Wardes, who had observedthat this was the only means of stinging Raoul, so as to awaken hisanger. 

"That then, " said Buckingham, "is another matter. "

"Precisely so, " said De Wardes, "it is the province of M. D'Artagnan'sfriends to defend him. "

"I am entirely of your opinion, " replied the duke, who had regained allhis indifference of manner; "if M. De Bragelonne were offended, I couldnot reasonably be expected to espouse his quarrel, since he is himselfhere; but when you say that it is a quarrel of M. D'Artagnan----"

"You will of course leave me to deal with the matter, " said De Wardes. 

"Nay, on the contrary, for I draw my sword, " said Buckingham, unsheathing it as he spoke; "for if M. D'Artagnan injured your father, he rendered, or at least did all that he could to render, a greatservice to mine. "

De Wardes was thunderstruck. 

"M. D'Artagnan, " continued Buckingham, "is the bravest gentleman I know. I shall be delighted, as I owe him many personal obligations, to settlethem with you, by crossing my sword with yours. " At the same momentBuckingham drew his sword gracefully from its scabbard, saluted Raoul, and put himself on guard. 

De Wardes advanced a step to meet him. 

"Stay, gentlemen, " said Raoul, advancing towards them, and placing hisown drawn sword between the combatants, "the affair is hardly worth thetrouble of blood being shed almost in the presence of the princess. M. De Wardes speaks ill of M. D'Artagnan, with whom he is not evenacquainted. "

"What, monsieur, " said De Wardes, setting his teeth hard together, andresting the point of his sword on the toe of his boot, "do you assertthat I do not know M. D'Artagnan?"

"Certainly not; you do not know him, " replied Raoul, coldly, "and youare even not aware where he is to he found. "

"Not know where he is?"

"Such must be the case, since you fix your quarrel with him uponstrangers, instead of seeking M. D'Artagnan where he is to be found. " DeWardes turned pale. "Well, monsieur, " continued Raoul, "I will tell youwhere M. D'Artagnan is: he is now in Paris; when on duty he is to bemet with at the Louvre, --when not on duty, in the Rue des Lombards. M. D'Artagnan can be easily discovered at either of those two places. Having, therefore, as you assert, so many causes of complaint againsthim, show your courage in seeking him out, and afford him an opportunityof giving you that satisfaction you seem to ask of every one but ofhimself. " De Wardes passed his hand across his forehead, which wascovered with perspiration. "For shame, M. De Wardes! so quarrelsomea disposition is hardly becoming after the publication of the edictsagainst duels. Pray think of that; the king will be incensed at ourdisobedience, particularly at such a time, --and his majesty will be inthe right. "

"Excuses, " murmured De Wardes; "mere pretexts. "

"Really, M. De Wardes, " resumed Raoul, "such remarks are the idlestbluster. You know very well that the Duke of Buckingham is a man ofundoubted courage, who has already fought ten duels, and will probablyfight eleven. His name alone is significant enough. As far as I amconcerned, you are well aware that I can fight also. I fought at Sens, at Bleneau, at the Dunes in front of the artillery, a hundred paces infront of the line, while you--I say this parenthetically--were a hundredpaces behind it. True it is, that on that occasion there was far toogreat a concourse of persons present for your courage to be observed, and on that account, perhaps, you did not reveal it; while here, itwould be a display, and would excite remark--you wish that others shouldtalk about you, in what manner you do not care. Do not depend upon me, M. De Wardes, to assist you in your designs, for I shall certainly notafford you that pleasure. "

"Sensibly observed, " said Buckingham, putting up his sword, "and I askyour forgiveness, M. De Bragelonne, for having allowed myself to yieldto a first impulse. "

De Wardes, however, on the contrary, perfectly furious, bounded forwardand raised his sword, threateningly, against Raoul, who had scarcelytime to put himself in a posture of defense. 

"Take care, monsieur, " said Bragelonne, tranquilly, "or you will put outone of my eyes. "

"You will not fight, then?" said De Wardes. 

"Not at this moment, but this I promise to do; immediately on ourarrival at Paris I will conduct you to M. D'Artagnan, to whom you shalldetail all the causes of complaint you have against him. M. D'Artagnanwill solicit the king's permission to measure swords with you. Theking will yield his consent, and when you shall have received thesword-thrust in due course, you will consider, in a calmer frameof mind, the precepts of the Gospel, which enjoin forgetfulness ofinjuries. "

"Ah!" exclaimed De Wardes, furious at this imperturbable coolness, "onecan clearly see you are half a bastard, M. De Bragelonne. "

Raoul became as pale as death; his eyes flashed lightning, causing DeWardes involuntarily to fall back. Buckingham, also, who had perceivedtheir expression, threw himself between the two adversaries, whom hehad expected to see precipitate themselves on each other. De Wardes hadreserved this injury for the last; he clasped his sword firmly in hishand, and awaited the encounter. "You are right, monsieur, " said Raoul, mastering his emotion, "I am only acquainted with my father's name, butI know too well that the Comte de la Fere is too upright and honorablea man to allow me to fear for a single moment that there is, as youinsinuate, any stain upon my birth. My ignorance, therefore, of mymother's name is a misfortune for me, and not a reproach. You aredeficient in loyalty of conduct; you are wanting in courtesy, inreproaching me with misfortune. It matters little, however, the insulthas been given, and I consider myself insulted accordingly. It is quiteunderstood, then, that after you shall have received satisfaction fromM. D'Artagnan, you will settle your quarrel with me. "

"I admire your prudence, monsieur, " replied De Wardes with a bittersmile; "a little while ago you promised me a sword-thrust from M. D'Artagnan, and now, after I shall have received his, you offer me onefrom yourself. "

"Do not disturb yourself, " replied Raoul, with concentrated anger, "inall affairs of that nature, M. D'Artagnan is exceedingly skillful, andI will beg him as a favor to treat you as he did your father; in otherwords, to spare your life at least, so as to leave me the pleasure, after your recovery, of killing you outright; for you have the heart ofa viper, M. De Wardes, and in very truth, too many precautions cannot betaken against you. "

"I shall take my precautions against you, " said De Wardes, "be assuredof it. "

"Allow me, monsieur, " said Buckingham, "to translate your remark by apiece of advice I am about to give M. De Bragelonne; M. De Bragelonne, wear a cuirass. "

De Wardes clenched his hands. "Ah!" said he, "you two gentlemen intendto wait until you have taken that precaution before you measure yourswords against mine. "

"Very well, monsieur, " said Raoul, "since you positively will have itso, let us settle the affair now. " And drawing his sword he advancedtowards De Wardes. 

"What are you going to do?" said Buckingham. 

"Be easy, " said Raoul, "it will not be very long. "

De Wardes placed himself on his guard; their swords crossed. De Wardesflew upon Raoul with such impetuosity, that at the first clashing of thesteel blades Buckingham clearly saw that Raoul was only trifling withhis adversary. Buckingham stepped aside, and watched the combat. Raoulwas as calm as if he were handling a foil, instead of a sword; havingretreated a step, he parried three or four fierce thrusts which DeWardes made at him, caught the sword of the latter within his own, andsent it flying twenty paces the other side of the barrier. Then as DeWardes stood disarmed and astounded at his defeat Raoul sheathed hissword, seized him by the collar and the waist-band, and hurled hisadversary to the other end of the barrier, trembling, and mad with rage. 

"We shall meet again, " murmured De Wardes, rising from the ground andpicking up his sword. 

"I have done nothing for the last hour, " said Raoul, "but say the samething. " Then, turning towards the duke, he said, "I entreat you to besilent about this affair; I am ashamed to have gone so far, but my angercarried me away, and I ask your forgiveness for it;--forget it, too. "

"Dear viscount, " said the duke, pressing within his own the vigorous andvaliant hand of his companion, "allow me, on the contrary, to rememberit, and to look after your safety; that man is dangerous, --he will killyou. "

"My father, " replied Raoul, "lived for twenty years under the menace ofa much more formidable enemy, and he still lives. "

"Your father had good friends, viscount. "

"Yes, " sighed Raoul, "such friends indeed, that none are now left likethem. "

"Do not say that, I beg, at the very moment I offer you my friendship;"and Buckingham opened his arms to embrace Raoul, who delightedlyreceived the proffered alliance. "In my family, " added Buckingham, "youare aware, M. De Bragelonne, wee die to save our friends. "

"I know it well, duke, " replied Raoul. 

CHAPTER 88. An Account of what the Chevalier de Lorraine thought ofMadame

Nothing further interrupted the journey. Under a pretext that was littleremarked, M. De Wardes went forward in advance of the others. He tookManicamp with him, for his equable and dreamy disposition acted as acounterpoise to his own. It is a subject of remark, that quarrelsomeand restless characters invariably seek the companionship of gentle, timorous dispositions, as if the former sought, in the contrast, arepose for their own ill-humor, and the latter a protection for theirweakness. Buckingham and Bragelonne admitting De Guiche into theirfriendship, in concert with him, sang the praises of the princess duringthe whole of the journey. Bragelonne had, however, insisted that theirthree voices should be in concert, instead of singing in solo parts, as De Guiche and his rival seemed to have acquired a dangerous habitof investigation. This style of harmony pleased the queen-motherexceedingly, but it was not perhaps so agreeable to the young princess, who was an incarnation of coquetry, and who, without any fear as faras her own voice was concerned, sought opportunities of so perilouslydistinguishing herself. She possessed one of those fearless andincautious dispositions that find gratification in an excess ofsensitiveness of feeling, and for whom, also, danger has a certainfascination. And so her glances, her smiles, her toilette, aninexhaustible armory of weapons of offense, were showered on the threeyoung men with overwhelming force; and, from her well-stored arsenalissued glances, kindly recognitions, and a thousand other littlecharming attentions which were intended to strike at long range thegentlemen who formed the escort, the townspeople, the officers of thedifferent cities she passed through, pages, populace, and servants;it was wholesale slaughter, a general devastation. By the time Madamearrived at Paris, she had reduced to slavery about a hundred thousandlovers: and brought in her train to Paris half a dozen men who werealmost mad about her, and two who were, indeed, literally out of theirminds. Raoul was the only person who divined the power of this woman'sattraction, and as his heart was already engaged, he arrived in thecapital full of indifference and distrust. Occasionally during thejourney he conversed with the queen of England respecting the powerof fascination which Madame possessed, and the mother, whom so manymisfortunes and deceptions had taught experience, replied: "Henriettawas sure to be illustrious in one way or another, whether born in apalace or born in obscurity; for she is a woman of great imagination, capricious and self-willed. " De Wardes and Manicamp, in theirself-assumed character of courtiers, had announced the princess'sarrival. The procession was met at Nanterre by a brilliant escortof cavaliers and carriages. It was Monsieur himself, followed by theChevalier de Lorraine and by his favorites, the latter being themselvesfollowed by a portion of the king's military household, who had arrivedto meet his affianced bride. At St. Germain, the princess and her motherhad changed their heavy traveling carriage, somewhat impaired by thejourney, for a light, richly decorated chariot drawn by six horses withwhite and gold harness. Seated in this open carriage, as though upona throne, and beneath a parasol of embroidered silk, fringed withfeathers, sat the young and lovely princess, on whose beaming face werereflected the softened rose-tints which suited her delicate skin toperfection. Monsieur, on reaching the carriage, was struck by herbeauty; he showed his admiration in so marked a manner that theChevalier de Lorraine shrugged his shoulders as he listened to hiscompliments, while Buckingham and De Guiche were almost heart-broken. After the usual courtesies had been rendered, and the ceremonycompleted, the procession slowly resumed the road to Paris. Thepresentations had been carelessly made, and Buckingham, with the rest ofthe English gentlemen, had been introduced to Monsieur, from whom theyhad received but very indifferent attention. But, during their progress, as he observed that the duke devoted himself with his accustomedearnestness to the carriage-door, he asked the Chevalier de Lorraine, his inseparable companion, "Who is that cavalier?"

"He was presented to your highness a short while ago; it is the handsomeDuke of Buckingham. "

"Ah, yes, I remember. "

"Madame's knight, " added the favorite, with an inflection of the voicewhich envious minds can alone give to the simplest phrases. 

"What do you say?" replied the prince. 

"I said 'Madame's knight. '"

"Has she a recognized knight, then?"

"One would think you can judge of that for yourself; look, only, howthey are laughing and flirting. All three of them. "

"What do you mean by all three?"

"Do you not see that De Guiche is one of the party?"

"Yes, I see. But what does that prove?"

"That Madame has two admirers instead of one. "

"Thou poison the simplest thing!"

"I poison nothing. Ah! your royal highness's mind is perverted. Thehonors of the kingdom of France are being paid to your wife and you arenot satisfied. "

The Duke of Orleans dreaded the satirical humor of the Chevalier deLorraine whenever it reached a certain degree of bitterness, and hechanged the conversation abruptly. "The princess is pretty, " said he, very negligently, as if he were speaking of a stranger. 

"Yes, " replied the chevalier, in the same tone. 

"You say 'yes' like a 'no. ' She has very beautiful black eyes. "

"Yes, but small. "

"That is so, but they are brilliant. She is tall, and of a good figure. "

"I fancy she stoops a little, my lord?"

"I do not deny it. She has a noble appearance. "

"Yes, but her face is thin. "

"I thought her teeth beautiful. "

"They can easily be seen, for her mouth is large enough. Decidedly, Iwas wrong, my lord; you are certainly handsomer than your wife. "

"But do you think me as handsome as Buckingham?"

"Certainly, and he thinks so, too; for look, my lord, he is redoublinghis attentions to Madame to prevent your effacing the impression he hasmade. "

Monsieur made a movement of impatience, but as he noticed a smile oftriumph pass across the chevalier's lips, he drew up his horse to afoot-pace. "Why, " said he, "should I occupy myself any longer about mycousin? Do I not already know her? Were we not brought up together? DidI not see her at the Louvre when she was quite a child?"

"A great change has taken place in her since then, prince. At the periodyou allude to, she was somewhat less brilliant, and scarcely so proud, either. One evening, particularly, you may remember, my lord, theking refused to dance with her, because he thought her plain and badlydressed!"

These words made the Duke of Orleans frown. It was by no meansflattering for him to marry a princess of whom, when young, the king hadnot thought much. He would probably have retorted, but at this momentDe Guiche quitted the carriage to join the prince. He had remarked theprince and the chevalier together, and full of anxious attention heseemed to try and guess the nature of the remarks which they had justexchanged. The chevalier, whether he had some treacherous object inview, or from imprudence, did not take the trouble to dissimulate. "Count, " he said, "you're a man of excellent taste. "

"Thank you for the compliment, " replied De Guiche; "but why do you saythat?"

"Well, I appeal to his highness. "

"No doubt of it, " said Monsieur, "and Guiche knows perfectly well that Iregard him as a most finished cavalier. "

"Well, since that is decided, I resume. You have been in the princess'ssociety, count, for the last eight days, have you not?"

"Yes, " replied De Guiche, coloring in spite of himself. 

"Well, then, tell us frankly, what do you think of her personalappearance?"

"Of her personal appearance?" returned De Guiche, stupefied. 

"'Yes; of her appearance, of her mind, of herself, in fact. "

Astounded by this question, De Guiche hesitated answering. 

"Come, come, De Guiche, " resumed the chevalier, laughingly, "tell usyour opinion frankly; the prince commands it. "

"Yes, yes, " said the prince, "be frank. "

De Guiche stammered out a few unintelligible words. 

"I am perfectly well aware, " returned Monsieur, "that the subject is adelicate one, but you know you can tell me everything. What do you thinkof her?"

In order to avoid betraying his real thoughts, De Guiche had recourseto the only defense which a man taken by surprise really has, andaccordingly told an untruth. "I do not find Madame, " he said, "eithergood or bad looking, yet rather good than bad looking. "

"What! count, " exclaimed the chevalier, "you who went into suchecstasies and uttered so many exclamations at the sight of herportrait. "

De Guiche colored violently. Very fortunately his horse, which wasslightly restive, enabled him by a sudden plunge to conceal hisagitation. "What portrait!" he murmured, joining them again. Thechevalier had not taken his eyes off him. 

"Yes, the portrait. Was not the miniature a good likeness?"

"I do not remember. I had forgotten the portrait; it quite escaped myrecollection. "

"And yet it made a very marked impression upon you, " said the chevalier. 

"That is not unlikely. "

"Is she witty, at all events?" inquired the duke. 

"I believe so, my lord. "

"Is M. De Buckingham witty, too?" said the chevalier. 

"I do not know. "

"My own opinion is, that he must be, " replied the chevalier, "for hemakes Madame laugh, and she seems to take no little pleasure in hissociety, which never happens to a clever woman when in the company of asimpleton. "

"Of course, then, he must be clever, " said De Guiche, simply. 

At this moment Raoul opportunely arrived, seeing how De Guiche waspressed by his dangerous questioner, to whom he addressed a remark, and in that way changed the conversation. The entree was brilliant andjoyous. 

The king, in honor of his brother, had directed that the festivitiesshould be on a scale of the greatest possible magnificence. Madame andher mother alighted at the Louvre, where, during their exile, they hadso gloomily submitted to obscurity, misery, and privations of everydescription. That palace, which had been so inhospitable a residencefor the unhappy daughter of Henry IV. , the naked walls, the unevenfloorings, the ceilings matted with cobwebs, the vast dilapidatedchimney-places, the cold hearths on which the charity extended to themby parliament hardly permitted a fire to glow, was completely alteredin appearance. The richest hangings and the thickest carpets, glisteningflagstones and pictures, with their richly gilded frames; in everydirection could be seen candelabra, mirrors, and furniture and fittingsof the most sumptuous character; in every direction, also, were guardsof the proudest military bearing, with floating plumes, crowds ofattendants and courtiers in the ante-chambers and upon the staircases. In the courtyards, where the grass had formerly been allowed toluxuriate, as if the ungrateful Mazarin had thought it a good idea tolet the Parisians perceive that solitude and disorder were, with miseryand despair, the fit accompaniments of fallen monarchy, the immensecourtyards, formerly silent and desolate, were now thronged withcourtiers whose horses were pacing and prancing to and fro. Thecarriages were filled with young and beautiful women, who awaited theopportunity of saluting, as she passed, the daughter of that daughter ofFrance who, during her widowhood and exile, had sometimes gone withoutwood for her fire, and bread for her table, whom the meanest attendantsat the chateau had treated with indifference and contempt. And so, Madame Henrietta once more returned to the Louvre, with her heart moreswollen with bitter recollections than her daughter's, whose dispositionwas fickle and forgetful, with triumph and delight. She knew but toowell this brilliant reception was paid to the happy mother of a kingrestored to his throne, a throne second to none in Europe, while theworse than indifferent reception she had before met with was paidto her, the daughter of Henry IV. , as a punishment for having beenunfortunate. After the princesses had been installed in their apartmentsand had rested, the gentlemen who had formed their escort, having, inlike manner, recovered from their fatigue, they resumed their accustomedhabits and occupations. Raoul began by setting off to see his father, who had left for Blois. He then tried to see M. D'Artagnan, who, however, being engaged in the organization of a military household forthe king, could not be found anywhere. Bragelonne next sought out DeGuiche, but the count was occupied in a long conference with his tailorsand with Manicamp, which consumed his whole time. With the Duke ofBuckingham he fared still worse, for the duke was purchasing horsesafter horses, diamonds upon diamonds. He monopolized every embroiderer, jeweler, and tailor that Paris could boast of. Between De Guiche andhimself a vigorous contest ensued, invariably a courteous one, in which, in order to insure success, the duke was ready to spend a million; whilethe Marechal de Grammont had only allowed his son sixty thousand francs. So Buckingham laughed and spent his money. Guiche groaned in despair, and would have shown it more violently, had it not been for the adviceDe Bragelonne gave him. 

"A million!" repeated De Guiche daily; "I must submit. Why will not themarechal advance me a portion of my patrimony?"

"Because you would throw it away, " said Raoul. 

"What can that matter to him? If I am to die of it, I shall die of it, and then I shall need nothing further. "

"But what need is there to die?" said Raoul. 

"I do not wish to be conquered in elegance by an Englishman. "

"My dear count, " said Manicamp, "elegance is not a costly commodity, itis only a very difficult accomplishment. "

"Yes, but difficult things cost a good deal of money, and I have onlygot sixty thousand francs. "

"A very embarrassing state of things, truly, " said De Wardes; "even ifyou spent as much as Buckingham there is only nine hundred and fortythousand francs difference. "

"Where am I to find them?"

"Get into debt. "

"I am in debt already. "

"A greater reason for getting further. "

Advice like this resulted in De Guiche becoming excited to such anextent that he committed extravagances where Buckingham only incurredexpenses. The rumor of this extravagant profuseness delighted thehearts of all the shopkeepers in Paris, from the hotel of the Duke ofBuckingham to that of the Comte de Grammont nothing but miracles wasattempted. While all this was going on, Madame was resting herself, andBragelonne was engaged in writing to Mademoiselle de la Valliere. He hadalready dispatched four letters, and not an answer to any one of themhad been received, when, on the very morning fixed for the marriageceremony, which was to take place in the chapel at the Palais-Royal, Raoul, who was dressing, heard his valet announce M. De Malicorne. "Whatcan this Malicorne want with me?" thought Raoul; and then said to hisvalet, "Let him wait. "

"It is a gentleman from Blois, " said the valet. 

"Admit him at once, " said Raoul, eagerly. 

Malicorne entered as brilliant as a star, and wearing a superb sword athis side. After having saluted Raoul most gracefully, he said: "M. DeBragelonne, I am the bearer of a thousand compliments from a lady toyou. "

Raoul colored. "From a lady, " said he, "from a lady of Blois?"

"Yes, monsieur; from Mademoiselle de Montalais. "

"Thank you, monsieur; I recollect you now, " said Raoul. "And what doesMademoiselle de Montalais require of me?"

Malicorne drew four letters from his pocket, which he offered to Raoul. 

"My own letters, is it possible?" he said, turning pale; "my letters, and the seals unbroken?"

"Monsieur, your letters did not find at Blois the person to whom theywere addressed, and so they are now returned to you. "

"Mademoiselle de la Valliere has left Blois, then?" exclaimed Raoul. 

"Eight days ago. "

"Where is she, then?"

"In Paris. "

"How was it known that these letters were from me?"

"Mademoiselle de Montalais recognized your handwriting and your seal, "said Malicorne. 

Raoul colored and smiled. "Mademoiselle de Montalais is exceedinglyamiable, " he said; "she is always kind and charming. "

"Always, monsieur. "

"Surely she could give me some precise information about Mademoiselle dela Valliere. I never could find her in this immense city. "

Malicorne drew another packet from his pocket. 

"You may possibly find in this letter what you are anxious to learn. "

Raoul hurriedly broke the seal. The writing was that of MademoiselleAure, and inclosed were these words:--"Paris, Palais-Royal. The day ofthe nuptial blessing. "

"What does this mean?" inquired Raoul of Malicorne; "you probably know. "

"I do, monsieur. "

"For pity's sake, tell me, then. "

"Impossible, monsieur. "

"Why so?"

"Because Mademoiselle Aure has forbidden me to do so. "

Raoul looked at his strange visitor, and remained silent;--"At least, tell me whether it is fortunate or unfortunate. "

"That you will see. "

"You are very severe in your reservations. "

"Will you grant me a favor, monsieur?" said Malicorne. 

"In exchange for that you refuse me?"

"Precisely. "

"What is it?"

"I have the greatest desire to see the ceremony, and I have no ticketto admit me, in spite of all the steps I have taken to secure one. Couldyou get me admitted?"

"Certainly. "

"Do me this kindness, then, I entreat. "

"Most willingly, monsieur; come with me. "

"I am exceedingly indebted to you, monsieur, " said Malicorne. 

"I thought you were a friend of M. De Manicamp. "

"I am, monsieur; but this morning I was with him as he was dressing, andI let a bottle of blacking fall over his new dress, and he flew at mesword in hand, so that I was obliged to make my escape. That is thereason I could not ask him for a ticket. He wanted to kill me. "

"I can well believe it, " laughed Raoul. "I know Manicamp is capable ofkilling a man who has been unfortunate enough to commit the crime youhave to reproach yourself with, but I will repair the mischief as far asyou are concerned. I will but fasten my cloak, and shall then be readyto serve you, not only as a guide, but as your introducer, too. "

CHAPTER 89. A Surprise for Madame de Montalais

Madame's marriage was celebrated in the chapel of the Palais-Royal, inthe presence of a crowd of courtiers, who had been most scrupulouslyselected. However, notwithstanding the marked favor which an invitationindicated, Raoul, faithful to his promise to Malicorne, who was soanxious to witness the ceremony, obtained admission for him. After hehad fulfilled this engagement, Raoul approached De Guiche, who, as ifin contrast with his magnificent costume, exhibited a countenance soutterly dejected, that the Duke of Buckingham was the only one presentwho could contend with him as far as pallor and discomfiture wereconcerned. 

"Take care, count, " said Raoul, approaching his friend, and preparing tosupport him at the moment the archbishop blessed the married couple. Infact, the Prince of Conde was attentively scrutinizing these two imagesof desolation, standing like caryatides on either side of the naveof the church. The count, after that, kept a more careful watch overhimself. 

At the termination of the ceremony, the king and queen passed onwardtowards the grand reception-room, where Madame and her suite were to bepresented to them. It was remarked that the king, who had seemed morethan surprised at his sister-in-law's appearance was most flattering inhis compliments to her. Again, it was remarked that the queen-mother, fixing a long and thoughtful gaze upon Buckingham, leaned towardsMadame de Motteville as though to ask her, "Do you not see how much heresembles his father?" and finally it was remarked that Monsieur watchedeverybody, and seemed quite discontented. After the reception of theprincess and ambassadors, Monsieur solicited the king's permission topresent to him as well as to Madame the persons belonging to their newhousehold. 

"Are you aware, vicomte, " inquired the Prince de Conde of Raoul, "whether the household has been selected by a person of taste, andwhether there are any faces worth looking at?"

"I have not the slightest idea, monseigneur, " replied Raoul. 

"You affect ignorance, surely. "

"In what way, monseigneur?"

"You are a friend of De Guiche, who is one of the friends of theprince. "

"That may be so, monseigneur; but the matter having no interest whateverfor me, I never questioned De Guiche on the subject; and De Guicheon his part, never having been questioned, did not communicate anyparticulars to me. "

"But Manicamp?"

"It is true I saw Manicamp at Havre, and during the journey here, butI was no more inquisitive with him than I had been towards De Guiche. Besides, is it likely that Manicamp should know anything of suchmatters? for he is a person of only secondary importance. "

"My dear vicomte, do you not know better than that?" said the prince;"why, it is these persons of secondary importance who, on suchoccasions, have all the influence; and the truth is, that nearlyeverything has been done through Manicamp's presentations to De Guiche, and through De Guiche to Monsieur. "

"I assure you, monseigneur, I was ignorant of that, " said Raoul, "andwhat your highness does me the honor to impart is perfectly new to me. "

"I will most readily believe you, although it seems incredible; besides, we shall not have long to wait. See, the flying squadron is advancing, as good Queen Catherine used to say. Ah! ah! what pretty faces!"

A bevy of young girls at this moment entered the salon, conducted byMadame de Navailles, and to Manicamp's credit be it said, if indeedhe had taken that part in their selection which the Prince de Condeassigned him, it was a display calculated to dazzle those who, like theprince, could appreciate every character and style of beauty. A young, fair-complexioned girl, from twenty to one-and-twenty years of age, andwhose large blue eyes flashed, as she opened them, in the most dazzlingmanner, walked at the head of the band and was the first presented. 

"Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, " said Madame de Navailles to Monsieur, who, as he saluted his wife, repeated "Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente. "

"Ah! ah!" said the Prince de Conde to Raoul, "she is presentableenough. "

"Yes, " said Raoul, "but has she not a somewhat haughty style?"

"Bah! we know these airs very well, vicomte; three months hence she willbe tame enough. But look, there, indeed, is a pretty face. "

"Yes, " said Raoul, "and one I am acquainted with. "

"Mademoiselle Aure de Montalais, " said Madame de Navailles. The name andChristian name were carefully repeated by Monsieur. 

"Great heavens!" exclaimed Raoul, fixing his bewildered gaze upon theentrance doorway. 

"What's the matter?" inquired the prince; "was it Mademoiselle Aure deMontalais who made you utter such a 'Great heavens'?"

"No, monseigneur, no, " replied Raoul, pale and trembling. 

"Well, then, if it be not Mademoiselle Aure de Montalais, it is thatpretty blonde who follows her. What beautiful eyes! She is rather thin, but has fascinations without number. "

"Mademoiselle de la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere!" said Madame deNavailles; and, as this name resounded through his whole being, a cloudseemed to rise from his breast to his eyes, so that he neither saw norheard anything more; and the prince, finding him nothing more than amere echo which remained silent under his railleries, moved forward toinspect somewhat closer the beautiful girls whom his first glance hadalready particularized. 

"Louise here! Louise a maid of honor to Madame!" murmured Raoul, and hiseyes, which did not suffice to satisfy his reason, wandered from Louiseto Montalais. The latter had already emancipated herself from herassumed timidity, which she only needed for the presentation and for herreverences. 

Mademoiselle de Montalais, from the corner of the room to which she hadretired, was looking with no slight confidence at the different personspresent; and, having discovered Raoul, she amused herself with theprofound astonishment which her own and her friend's presence therecaused the unhappy lover. Her waggish and malicious look, which Raoultried to avoid meeting, and which yet he sought inquiringly from timeto time, placed him on the rack. As for Louise, whether from naturaltimidity, or some other reason for which Raoul could not account, shekept her eyes constantly cast down; intimidated, dazzled, and withimpeded respiration, she withdrew herself as much as possible aside, unaffected even by the nudges Montalais gave her with her elbow. Thewhole scene was a perfect enigma for Raoul, the key to which he wouldhave given anything to obtain. But no one was there who could assisthim, not even Malicorne; who, a little uneasy at finding himself in thepresence of so many persons of good birth, and not a little discouragedby Montalais's bantering glances, had described a circle, and by degreessucceeded in getting a few paces from the prince, behind the group ofmaids of honor, and nearly within reach of Mademoiselle Aure's voice, she being the planet around which he, as her attendant satellite, seemedconstrained to gravitate. As he recovered his self-possession, Raoulfancied he recognized voices on his right hand that were familiarto him, and he perceived De Wardes, De Guiche, and the Chevalier deLorraine, conversing together. It is true they were talking in tonesso low, that the sound of their words could hardly be heard in the vastapartment. To speak in that manner from any particular place withoutbending down, or turning round, or looking at the person with whom onemay be engaged in conversation, is a talent that cannot be immediatelyacquired by newcomers. Long study is needed for such conversations, which, without a look, gesture, or movement of the head, seem like theconversation of a group of statues. In fact, in the king's and queen'sgrand assemblies, while their majesties were speaking, and while everyone present seemed to be listening in the midst of the most profoundsilence, some of these noiseless conversations took place, in whichadulation was not the prevailing feature. But Raoul was one among othersexceedingly clever in this art, so much a matter of etiquette, that fromthe movement of the lips he was often able to guess the sense of thewords. 

"Who is that Montalais?" inquired De Wardes, "and that La Valliere? Whatcountry-town have we had sent here?"

"Montalais?" said the chevalier, --"oh, I know her; she is a good sortof a girl, whom we shall find amusing enough. La Valliere is a charminggirl, slightly lame. "

"Ah! bah!" said De Wardes. 

"Do not be absurd, De Wardes, there are some very characteristic andingenious Latin axioms about lame ladies. "

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, " said De Guiche, looking at Raoul withuneasiness, "be a little careful, I entreat you. "

But the uneasiness of the count, in appearance at least, was not needed. Raoul had preserved the firmest and most indifferent countenance, although he had not lost a word that passed. He seemed to keep anaccount of the insolence and license of the two speakers in order tosettle matters with them at the earliest opportunity. 

De Wardes seemed to guess what was passing in his mind, and continued:

"Who are these young ladies' lovers?"

"Montalais's lover?" said the chevalier. 

"Yes, Montalais first. "

"You, I, or De Guiche, --whoever likes, in fact. "

"And the other?"

"Mademoiselle de la Valliere?"

"Yes. "

"Take care, gentlemen, " exclaimed De Guiche, anxious to put a stop to DeWardes's reply; "take care, Madame is listening to us. "

Raoul thrust his hand up to the wrist into his justaucorps in greatagitation. But the very malignity which he saw was excited againstthese poor girls made him take a serious resolution. "Poor Louise, " hethought, "has come here only with an honorable object in view and underhonorable protection; and I must learn what that object is which shehas in view, and who it is that protects her. " And following Malicorne'smaneuver, he made his way toward the group of the maids of honor. Thepresentations were soon over. The king, who had done nothing but lookat and admire Madame, shortly afterwards left the reception-room, accompanied by the two queens. The Chevalier de Lorraine resumed hisplace beside Monsieur, and, as he accompanied him, insinuated a fewdrops of the venom he had collected during the last hour, while lookingat some of the faces in the court, and suspecting that some of theirhearts might be happy. A few of the persons present followed the kingas he quitted the apartment; but such of the courtiers as assumed anindependence of character, and professed a gallantry of disposition, began to approach the ladies of the court. The prince paid hiscompliments to Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, Buckingham devotedhimself to Madame Chalais and Mademoiselle de Lafayette, whom Madamealready distinguished by her notice, and whom she held in high regard. As for the Comte de Guiche, who had abandoned Monsieur as soon as hecould approach Madame alone, he conversed, with great animation, with Madame de Valentinois, and with Mesdemoiselles de Crequy and deChatillon. 

Amid these varied political and amorous interests, Malicorne was anxiousto gain Montalais's attention; but the latter preferred talking withRaoul, even if it were only to amuse herself with his innumerablequestions and his astonishment. Raoul had gone direct to Mademoiselle dela Valliere, and had saluted her with the profoundest respect, at whichLouise blushed, and could not say a word. Montalais, however, hurried toher assistance. 

"Well, monsieur le vicomte, here we are, you see. "

"I do, indeed, see you, " said Raoul, smiling, "and it is exactly becauseyou are here that I wish to ask for some explanation. "

Malicorne approached the group with his most fascinating smile. 

"Go away, Malicorne; really, you are exceedingly indiscreet. " At thisremark Malicorne bit his lips and retired a few steps, without makingany reply. His smile, however, changed its expression, and from itsformer frankness, became mocking in its expression. 

"You wished for an explanation, M. Raoul?" inquired Montalais. 

"It is surely worth one, I think; Mademoiselle de la Valliere a maid ofhonor to Madame!"

"Why should not she be a maid of honor, as well as myself?" inquiredMontalais. 

"Pray accept my compliments, young ladies, " said Raoul, who fancied heperceived they were not disposed to answer him in a direct manner. 

"Your remark was not made in a very complimentary manner, vicomte. "

"Mine?"

"Certainly; I appeal to Louise. "

"M. De Bragelonne probably thinks the position is above my condition, "said Louise, hesitatingly. 

"Assuredly not, " replied Raoul, eagerly; "you know very well that suchis not my feeling; were you called upon to occupy a queen's throne, Ishould not be surprised; how much greater reason, then, such a positionas this? The only circumstance that amazes me is that I should havelearned it only to-day, and that by the merest accident. "

"That is true, " replied Montalais, with her usual giddiness; "you knownothing about it, and there is no reason you should. M. De Bragelonnehad written several letters to you, but your mother was the only personwho remained behind at Blois, and it was necessary to prevent theseletters falling into her hands; I intercepted them, and returned themto M. Raoul, so that he believed you were still at Blois while you werehere in Paris, and had no idea whatever, indeed, how high you had risenin rank. "

"Did you not inform M. Raoul, as I begged you to do?"

"Why should I? to give him an opportunity or making some of his severeremarks and moral reflections, and to undo what we had so much troublein effecting? Certainly not. "

"Am I so very severe, then?" said Raoul, inquiringly. 

"Besides, " said Montalais, "it is sufficient to say that it suited me. I was about setting off for Paris--you were away; Louise was weeping hereyes out; interpret that as you please; I begged a friend, a protectorof mine, who had obtained the appointment for me, to solicit one forLouise; the appointment arrived. Louise left in order to get her costumeprepared; as I had my own ready, I remained behind; I received yourletters, and returned them to you, adding a few words, promising you asurprise. Your surprise is before you, monsieur, and seems to be a fairone enough; you have nothing more to ask. Come, M. Malicorne, it is nowtime to leave these young people together: they have many things totalk about; give me your hand; I trust that you appreciate the honorconferred upon you, M. Malicorne. "

"Forgive me, " said Raoul, arresting the giddy girl, and giving tohis voice an intonation, the gravity of which contrasted with that ofMontalais; "forgive me, but may I inquire the name of the protectoryou speak of; for if protection be extended towards you, MademoiselleMontalais, --for which, indeed, so many reasons exist, " added Raoul, bowing, "I do not see that the same reasons exist why Mademoiselle de laValliere should be similarly cared for. "

"But, M. Raoul, " said Louise, innocently, "there is no difference in thematter, and I do not see why I should not tell it you myself; it was M. Malicorne who obtained it for me. "

Raoul remained for a moment almost stupefied, asking himself if theywere trifling with him; he then turned round to interrogate Malicorne, but he had been hurried away by Montalais, and was already at somedistance from them. Mademoiselle de la Valliere attempted to follow herfriend, but Raoul, with gentle authority, detained her. 

"Louise, one word, I beg. "

"But, M. Raoul, " said Louise, blushing, "we are alone. Every one hasleft. They will become anxious, and will be looking for us. "

"Fear nothing, " said the young man, smiling, "we are neither of us ofsufficient importance for our absence to be remarked. "

"But I have my duty to perform, M. Raoul. "

"Do not be alarmed, I am acquainted with these usages of the court; youwill not be on duty until to-morrow; a few minutes are at your disposal, which will enable you to give me the information I am about to have thehonor to ask you for. "

"How serious you are, M. Raoul!" said Louise. 

"Because the circumstances are serious. Are you listening?"

"I am listening; I would only repeat, monsieur, that we are quitealone. "

"You are right, " said Raoul, and, offering her his hand, he led theyoung girl into the gallery adjoining the reception-room, the windowsof which looked out upon the courtyard. Every one hurried towards themiddle window, which had a balcony outside, from which all the detailsof the slow and formal preparations for departure could be seen. Raoulopened one of the side windows, and then, being alone with Louise, saidto her: "You know, Louise, that from my childhood I have regarded youas my sister, as one who has been the confidante of all my troubles, towhom I have entrusted all my hopes. "

"Yes, M. Raoul, " she answered softly; "yes, M. Raoul, I know that. "

"You used, on your side, to show the same friendship towards me, and hadthe same confidence in me; why have you not, on this occasion, been myfriend--why have you shown suspicion of me?"

Mademoiselle de la Valliere did not answer. "I fondly thought you lovedme, " said Raoul, whose voice became more and more agitated; "I fondlythought you consented to all the plans we had, together, laid down forour own happiness, at the time when we wandered up and down the walks ofCour-Cheverny, under the avenue of poplar trees leading to Blois. Youdo not answer me, Louise. Is it possible, " he inquired, breathing withdifficulty, "that you no longer love me?"

"I did not say so, " replied Louise, softly. 

"Oh! tell me the truth, I implore you. All my hopes in life are centeredin you. I chose you for your gentle and simple tastes. Do not sufferyourself to be dazzled, Louise, now that you are in the midst of a courtwhere all that is pure too soon becomes corrupt--where all that is youngtoo soon grows old. Louise, close your ears, so as not to hear what maybe said; shut your eyes, so as not to see the examples before you; shutyour lips, that you may not inhale the corrupting influences aboutyou. Without falsehood or subterfuge, Louise, am I to believe whatMademoiselle de Montalais stated? Louise, did you come to Paris becauseI was no longer at Blois?"

La Valliere blushed and concealed her face in her hands. 

"Yes, it was so, then!" exclaimed Raoul, delightedly; "that was, then, your reason for coming here. I love you as I never yet loved you. Thanks, Louise, for this devotion; but measures must be taken to placeyou beyond all insult, to shield you from every lure. Louise, a maid ofhonor in the court of a young princess in these days of free manners andinconstant affections---a maid of honor is placed as an object of attackwithout having any means of defence afforded her; this state of thingscannot continue, you must be married in order to be respected. "

"Married?"

"Yes, here is my hand, Louise; will you place yours within it?"

"But your father?"

"My father leaves me perfectly free. "

"Yet----"

"I understand your scruples, Louise; I will consult my father. "

"Reflect, M. Raoul; wait. "

"Wait! it is impossible. Reflect, Louise, when you are concerned! itwould be insulting, --give me your hand, dear Louise; I am my own master. My father will consent, I know; give me your hand, do not keep mewaiting thus. One word in answer, one word only; if not, I shall beginto think that, in order to change you forever, nothing more was neededthan a single step in the palace, a single breath of favor, a smile fromthe queen, a look from the king. "

Raoul had no sooner pronounced this latter word, than La Valliere becameas pale as death, no doubt from fear at seeing the young man excitehimself. With a movement as rapid as thought, she placed both her handsin those of Raoul, and then fled without adding a syllable; disappearingwithout casting a look behind her. Raoul felt his whole frame trembleat the contact of her hand; he received the compact as a solemn bargainwrung by affection from her child-like timidity. 

CHAPTER 90. The Consent of Athos

Raoul quitted the Palais-Royal full of ideas that admitted no delay inexecution. He mounted his horse in the courtyard, and followed the roadto Blois, while the marriage festivities of Monsieur and the princess ofEngland were being celebrated with exceeding animation by the courtiers, but to the despair of De Guiche and Buckingham. Raoul lost no timeon the road, and in sixteen hours he arrived at Blois. As he traveledalong, he marshaled his arguments in the most becoming manner. Feveralso is an argument that cannot be answered, and Raoul had an attack. Athos was in his study, making additions to his memoirs, when Raoulentered, accompanied by Grimaud. Keen-sighted and penetrating, a mereglance at his son told him that something extraordinary had befallenhim. 

"You seem to come on a matter of importance, " said he to Raoul, after hehad embraced him, pointing to a seat. 

"Yes, monsieur, " replied the young man; "and I entreat you to give methe same kind attention that has never yet failed me. "

"Speak, Raoul. "

"I present the case to you, monsieur, free from all preface, for thatwould be unworthy of you. Mademoiselle de la Valliere is in Paris as oneof Madame's maids of honor. I have pondered deeply on the matter; I loveMademoiselle de la Valliere above everything; and it is not proper toleave her in a position where her reputation, her virtue even, may beassailed. It is my wish, therefore, to marry her, monsieur, and I havecome to solicit your consent to my marriage. "

While this communication was being made to him, Athos maintained theprofoundest silence and reserve. Raoul, who had begun his address withan assumption of self-possession, finished it by allowing a manifestemotion to escape him at every word. Athos fixed upon Bragelonne asearching look, overshadowed indeed by a slight sadness. 

"You have reflected well upon it?" he inquired. 

"Yes, monsieur. "

"I believe you are already acquainted with my views respecting thisalliance?"

"Yes, monsieur, " replied Raoul, in a low tone of voice, "but you added, that if I persisted----"

"You do persist, then?"

Bragelonne stammered out an almost unintelligible assent. 

"Your passion, " continued Athos, tranquilly, "must indeed be very great, since, notwithstanding my dislike to this union, you persist in wishingit. "

Raoul passed his trembling hand across his forehead to remove theperspiration that collected there. Athos looked at him, and his heartwas touched by pity. He rose and said, ----

"It is no matter. My own personal feelings are not to be taken intoconsideration since yours are concerned; you need my assistance; I amready to give it. Tell me what you want. "

"Your kind indulgence, first of all, monsieur, " said Raoul, taking holdof his hand. 

"You have mistaken my feelings, Raoul, I have more than mere indulgencefor you in my heart. "

Raoul kissed as devotedly as a lover could have done the hand he held inhis own. 

"Come, come, " said Athos, "I am quite ready; what do you wish me tosign?"

"Nothing whatever, monsieur, only it would be very kind if you wouldtake the trouble to write to the king to whom I belong, and solicit hismajesty's permission for me to marry Mademoiselle de la Valliere. "

"Well thought, Raoul! After, or rather before myself, you have a masterto consult, that master being the king; it is loyal in you to submityourself voluntarily to this double proof; I will grant your requestwithout delay, Raoul. "

The count approached the window, and leaning out, called to Grimaud, who showed his head from an arbor covered with jasmine, which he wasoccupied in trimming. 

"My horses, Grimaud, " continued the count. 

"Why this order, monsieur?" inquired Raoul. 

"We shall set off in a few hours. "

"Whither?"

"For Paris. "

"Paris, monsieur?"

"Is not the king at Paris?"

"Certainly. "

"Well, ought we not to go there?"

"Yes, monsieur, " said Raoul, almost alarmed by this kind condescension. "I do not ask you to put yourself to such inconvenience, and a lettermerely----"

"You mistake my position, Raoul; it is not respectful that a simplegentleman, such as I am, should write to his sovereign. I wish to speak, I ought to speak, to the king, and I will do so. We will go together, Raoul. "

"You overpower me with your kindness, monsieur. "

"How do you think his majesty is affected?"

"Towards me, monsieur?"

"Yes. "

"Excellently well disposed. "

"You know that to be so?" continued the count. 

"The king has himself told me so. "

"On what occasion?"

"Upon the recommendation of M. D'Artagnan, I believe, and on account ofan affair in the Place de Greve, when I had the honor to draw my swordin the king's service. I have reason to believe that, vanity apart, Istand well with his majesty. "

"So much the better. "

"But I entreat you, monsieur, " pursued Raoul, "not to maintain towardsme your present grave and serious manner. Do not make me bitterly regrethaving listened to a feeling stronger than anything else. "

"That is the second time you have said so, Raoul; it was quiteunnecessary, you require my formal consent, and you have it. We needtalk no more on the subject, therefore. Come and see my new plantations, Raoul. "

The young man knew very well, that, after the expression of his father'swish, no opportunity of discussion was left him. He bowed his head, andfollowed his father into the garden. Athos slowly pointed out to himthe grafts, the cuttings, and the avenues he was planting. This perfectrepose of manner disconcerted Raoul extremely; the affection with whichhis own heart was filled seemed so great that the whole world couldhardly contain it. How, then, could his father's heart remain void, and closed to its influence? Bragelonne, therefore, collecting all hiscourage, suddenly exclaimed, ----

"It is impossible, monsieur, you can have any reason to rejectMademoiselle de la Valliere? In Heaven's name, she is so good, sogentle and pure, that your mind, so perfect in its penetration, oughtto appreciate her accordingly. Does any secret repugnance, or anyhereditary dislike, exist between you and her family?"

"Look, Raoul, at that beautiful lily of the valley, " said Athos;"observe how the shade and the damp situation suit it, particularly theshadow which that sycamore-tree casts over it, so that the warmth, andnot the blazing heat of the sun, filters through its leaves. "

Raoul stopped, bit his lips, and then with the blood mantling in hisface, he said, courageously, --"One word of explanation, I beg, monsieur. You cannot forget that your son is a man. "

"In that case, " replied Athos, drawing himself up with sternness, "proveto me that you are a man, for you do not show yourself a son. I beggedyou to wait the opportunity of forming an illustrious alliance. I wouldhave obtained a wife for you from the first ranks of the rich nobility. I wish you to be distinguished by the splendor which glory and fortuneconfer, for nobility of descent you have already. "

"Monsieur, " exclaimed Raoul, carried away by a first impulse, "I wasreproached the other day for not knowing who my mother was. "

Athos turned pale; then, knitting his brows like the greatest of allthe heathen deities:--"I am waiting to learn the reply you made, " hedemanded, in an imperious manner. 

"Forgive me! oh, forgive me, " murmured the young man, sinking at oncefrom the lofty tone he had assumed. 

"What was your reply, monsieur?" inquired the count, stamping his feetupon the ground. 

"Monsieur, my sword was in my hand immediately, my adversary placedhimself on guard, I struck his sword over the palisade, and threw himafter it. "

"Why did you suffer him to live?"

"The king has prohibited duelling, and, at that moment, I was anambassador of the king. "

"Very well, " said Athos, "but all the greater reason I should see hismajesty. "

"What do you intend to ask him?"

"Authority to draw my sword against the man who has inflicted thisinjury upon me. "

"If I did not act as I ought to have done, I beg you to forgive me. "

"Did I reproach you, Raoul?"

"Still, the permission you are going to ask from the king?"

"I will implore his majesty to sign your marriage-contract, but on onecondition. "

"Are conditions necessary with me, monsieur? Command, and you shall beobeyed. "

"On one condition, I repeat, " continued Athos; "that you tell me thename of the man who spoke of your mother in that way. "

"What need is there that you should know his name; the offense wasdirected against myself, and the permission once obtained from hismajesty, to revenge it is my affair. "

"Tell me his name, monsieur. "

"I will not allow you to expose yourself. 

"Do you take me for a Don Diego? His name, I say. "

"You insist upon it?"

"I demand it. "

"The Vicomte de Wardes. "

"Very well, " said Athos, tranquilly, "I know him. But our horses areready, I see; and, instead of delaying our departure for a couple ofhours, we will set off at once. Come, monsieur. "

CHAPTER 91. Monsieur becomes jealous of the Duke of Buckingham

While the Comte de la Fere was proceeding on his way to Paris, accompanied by Raoul, the Palais-Royal was the theatre wherein a sceneof what Moliere would have called excellent comedy was being performed. Four days had elapsed since his marriage, and Monsieur, havingbreakfasted very hurriedly, passed into his ante-chamber, frowning andout of temper. The repast had not been over-agreeable. Madame had hadbreakfast served in her own apartment, and Monsieur had breakfastedalmost alone; the Chevalier de Lorraine and Manicamp were the onlypersons present at the meal which lasted three-quarters of an hourwithout a single syllable having been uttered. Manicamp, who was lessintimate with his royal highness than the Chevalier de Lorraine, vainlyendeavored to detect, from the expression of the prince's face, what hadmade him so ill-humored. The Chevalier de Lorraine, who had no occasionto speculate about anything, inasmuch as he knew all, ate his breakfastwith that extraordinary appetite which the troubles of one's friends butstimulates, and enjoyed at the same time both Monsieur's ill-humor andthe vexation of Manicamp. He seemed delighted, while he went on eating, to detain the prince, who was very impatient to move, still at table. Monsieur at times repented the ascendancy which he had permitted theChevalier de Lorraine to acquire over him, and which exempted the latterfrom any observance of etiquette towards him. Monsieur was now in oneof those moods, but he dreaded as much as he liked the chevalier, andcontented himself with nursing his anger without betraying it. Everynow and then Monsieur raised his eyes to the ceiling, then loweredthem towards the slices of pate which the chevalier was attacking, and finally, not caring to betray his resentment, he gesticulated ina manner which Harlequin might have envied. At last, however, Monsieurcould control himself no longer, and at the dessert, rising from thetable in excessive wrath, as we have related, he left the Chevalier deLorraine to finish his breakfast as he pleased. Seeing Monsieur risefrom the table, Manicamp, napkin in hand, rose also. Monsieur ran ratherthan walked, towards the ante-chamber, where, noticing an usher inattendance, he gave him some directions in a low tone of voice. Then turning back again, but avoiding passing through the breakfastapartment, he crossed several rooms, with the intention of seeking thequeen-mother in her oratory, where she usually remained. 

It was about ten o'clock in the morning. Anne of Austria was engaged inwriting as Monsieur entered. The queen-mother was extremely attached toher son, for he was handsome in person and amiable in disposition. Hewas, in fact, more affectionate, and, it might be, more effeminatethan the king. He pleased his mother by those trifling sympathizingattentions all women are glad to receive. Anne of Austria, who wouldhave been rejoiced to have had a daughter, almost found in this, herfavorite son, the attentions, solicitude, and playful manners of achild of twelve years of age. All the time he passed with his mother heemployed in admiring her arms, in giving his opinion upon her cosmetics, and receipts for compounding essences, in which she was very particular;and then, too, he kissed her hands and cheeks in the most childlike andendearing manner, and had always some sweetmeats to offer her, or somenew style of dress to recommend. Anne of Austria loved the king, or rather the regal power in her eldest son; Louis XIV. Representedlegitimacy by right divine. With the king, her character was that ofthe queen-mother, with Philip she was simply the mother. The latterknew that, of all places of refuge, a mother's heart is the mostcompassionate and surest. When quite a child he always fled there forrefuge when he and his brother quarrelled, often, after having struckhim, which constituted the crime of high treason on his part, aftercertain engagements with hands and nails, in which the king and hisrebellious subject indulged in their night-dresses respecting the rightto a disputed bed, having their servant Laporte as umpire, --Philip, conqueror, but terrified at victory, used to flee to his motherto obtain reinforcements from her, or at least the assurance offorgiveness, which Louis XIV. Granted with difficulty, and after aninterval. Anne, from this habit of peaceable intervention, succeeded inarranging the disputes of her sons, and in sharing, at the sametime, all their secrets. The king, somewhat jealous of that maternalsolicitude which was bestowed particularly upon his brother, feltdisposed to show towards Anne of Austria more submission and attachmentthan his character really dictated. Anne of Austria had adopted thisline of conduct especially towards the young queen. In this manner sheruled with almost despotic sway over the royal household, and shewas already preparing her batteries to govern with the same absoluteauthority the household of her second son. Anne experienced almosta feeling of pride whenever she saw any one enter her apartment withwoe-begone looks, pale cheeks, or red eyes, gathering from appearancesthat assistance was required either by the weakest or the mostrebellious. She was writing, we have said, when Monsieur entered heroratory, not with red eyes or pale cheeks, but restless, out of temper, and annoyed. With an absent air he kissed his mother's hands, and sathimself down before receiving her permission to do so. Considering thestrict rules of etiquette established at the court of Anne of Austria, this forgetfulness of customary civilities was a sign of preoccupation, especially on Philip's part, who, of his own accord, observed a respecttowards her of a somewhat exaggerated character. If, therefore, he sonotoriously failed in this regard, there must be a serious cause for it. 

"What is the matter, Philip?" inquired Anne of Austria, turning towardsher son. 

"A good many things, " murmured the prince, in a doleful tone of voice. 

"You look like a man who has a great deal to do, " said the queen, layingdown her pen. Philip frowned, but did not reply. "Among the varioussubjects which occupy your mind, " said Anne of Austria, "there mustsurely be one that absorbs it more than others. "

"One indeed has occupied me more than any other. "

"Well, what is it? I am listening. "

Philip opened his mouth as if to express all the troubles his mind wasfilled with, and which he seemed to be waiting only for an opportunityof declaring. But he suddenly became silent, and a sigh alone expressedall that his heart was overflowing with. 

"Come, Philip, show a little firmness, " said the queen-mother. "When onehas to complain of anything, it is generally an individual who is thecause of it. Am I not right?"

"I do not say no, madame. "

"Whom do you wish to speak about? Come, take courage. "

"In fact, madame, what I might possibly have to say must be kept aprofound secret; for when a lady is in the case----"

"Ah! you are speaking of Madame, then?" inquired the queen-mother, witha feeling of the liveliest curiosity. 

"Yes. "

"Well, then, if you wish to speak of Madame, do not hesitate to do so. Iam your mother, and she is no more than a stranger to me. Yet, as she ismy daughter-in-law, rest assured I shall be interested, even were it foryour own sake alone, in hearing all you may have to say about her. "

"Pray tell me, madame, in your turn, whether you have not remarkedsomething?"

"'Something'! Philip? Your words almost frighten me, from their want ofmeaning. What do you mean by 'something'?"

"Madame is pretty, certainly. "

"No doubt of it. "

"Yet not altogether beautiful. "

"No, but as she grows older, she will probably become strikinglybeautiful. You must have remarked the change which a few years havealready made in her. Her beauty will improve more and more; she is nowonly sixteen years of age. At fifteen I was, myself, very thin; but evenas she is at present, Madame is very pretty. "

"And consequently others have remarked it. "

"Undoubtedly, for a woman of ordinary rank is noticed--and with stillgreater reason a princess. "

"She has been well brought up, I suppose?"

"Madame Henrietta, her mother, is a woman somewhat cold in manner, slightly pretentious, but full of noble thoughts. The princess'seducation may have been neglected, but her principles, I believe, aregood. Such at least was the opinion I formed of her when she resided inFrance; but she afterwards returned to England, and I am ignorant whatmay have occurred there. "

"What do you mean?"

"Simply that there are some heads naturally giddy, which are easilyturned by prosperity. "

"That is the very word, madame. I think the princess rather giddy. "

"We must not exaggerate, Philip; she is clever and witty, and has acertain amount of coquetry very natural in a young woman; but thisdefect in persons of high rank and position is a great advantage at acourt. A princess who is tinged with coquetry usually forms a brilliantcourt around her; her smile stimulates luxury, arouses wit, and evencourage; the nobles, too, fight better for a prince whose wife isbeautiful. "

"Thank you extremely, madame, " said Philip, with some temper; "youreally have drawn some very alarming pictures for me. "

"In what respect?" asked the queen, with pretended simplicity. 

"You know, madame, " said Philip, dolefully, "whether I had or had not avery great dislike to getting married. "

"Now, indeed, you alarm me. You have some serious cause of complaintagainst Madame. "

"I do not precisely say it is serious. "

"In that case, then, throw aside your doleful looks. If you showyourself to others in your present state, people will take you for avery unhappy husband. "

"The fact is, " replied Philip, "I am not altogether satisfied as ahusband, and I shall not be sorry if others know it. "

"For shame, Philip. "

"Well, then, madame, I will tell you frankly that I do not understandthe life I am required to lead. "

"Explain yourself. "

"My wife does not seem to belong to me; she is always leaving mefor some reason or another. In the mornings there are visits, correspondences, and toilettes; in the evenings, balls and concerts. "

"You are jealous, Philip. "

"I! Heaven forbid. Let others act the part of a jealous husband, not I. But I am annoyed. "

"All these things you reproach your wife with are perfectly innocent, and, so long as you have nothing of greater importance----"

"Yet, listen; without being very blamable, a woman can excite agood deal of uneasiness. Certain visitors may be received, certainpreferences shown, which expose young women to remark, and which areenough to drive out of their senses even those husbands who are leastdisposed to be jealous. "

"Ah! now we are coming to the real point at last, and not without somedifficulty. You speak of frequent visits, and certain preferences--verygood; for the last hour we have been beating about the bush, and atlast you have broached the true question. This is more serious than Ithought. It is possible, then, that Madame can have given you groundsfor these complaints against her?"

"Precisely so. "

"What, your wife, married only four days ago, prefers some other personto yourself? Take care, Philip, you exaggerate your grievances; inwishing to prove everything, you prove nothing. "

The prince, bewildered by his mother's serious manner wished to reply, but he could only stammer out some unintelligible words. 

"You draw back, then?" said Anne of Austria. "I prefer that, as it is anacknowledgment of your mistake. "

"No!" exclaimed Philip, "I do not draw back, and I will prove all Iasserted. I spoke of preference and of visits, did I not? Well, listen. "

Anne of Austria prepared herself to listen, with that love of gossipwhich the best woman living and the best mother, were she a queen even, always finds in being mixed up with the petty squabbles of a household. 

"Well, " said Philip, "tell me one thing. "

"What is that?"

"Why does my wife retain an English court about her?" said Philip, ashe crossed his arms and looked his mother steadily in the face, as if hewere convinced that she could not answer the question. 

"For a very simple reason, " returned Anne of Austria; "because theEnglish are her countrymen, because they have expended large sumsin order to accompany her to France, and because it would be hardlypolite--not politic, certainly--to dismiss abruptly those members ofthe English nobility who have not shrunk from any devotion or from anysacrifice. "

"A wonderful sacrifice indeed, " returned Philip, "to desert a wretchedcountry to come to a beautiful one, where a greater effect canbe produced for a crown than can be procured elsewhere for four!Extraordinary devotion, really, to travel a hundred leagues in companywith a woman one is in love with!"

"In love, Philip! think what you are saying. Who is in love withMadame?"

"The Duke of Buckingham. Perhaps you will defend him, too. "

Anne of Austria blushed and smiled at the same time. The name of theDuke of Buckingham recalled certain recollections of a very tender andmelancholy nature. "The Duke of Buckingham?" she murmured. 

"Yes; one of those arm-chair soldiers----"

"The Buckinghams are loyal and brave, " said Anne of Austria, courageously. 

"This is too bad; my own mother takes the part of my wife's loveragainst me, " exclaimed Philip, incensed to such an extent that his weakorganization was effected almost to tears. 

"Philip, my son, " exclaimed Anne of Austria, "such an expression isunworthy of you. Your wife has no lover and, had she one, it would notbe the Duke of Buckingham. The members of that family, I repeat areloyal and discreet, and the rights of hospitality are sure to berespected by them. "

"The Duke of Buckingham is an Englishman, madame, " said Philip; "and mayI ask if the English so very religiously respect what belongs to princesof France?"

Anne blushed a second time, and turned aside under the pretext of takingher pen from her desk again, but in reality to conceal her confusionfrom her son. "Really, Philip, " she said, "you seem to discoverexpressions for the purpose of embarrassing me, and your anger blindsyou while it alarms me; reflect a little. "

"There is no need for reflection, madame. I can see with my own eyes. "

"Well, and what do you see?"

"That Buckingham never quits my wife. He presumes to make presents toher, and she ventures to accept them. Yesterday she was talking aboutsachets a la violette; well, our French perfumers, you know verywell, madame, for you have over and over again asked for it withoutsuccess--our French perfumers, I say, have never been able to procurethis scent. The duke, however, wore about him a sachet a la violette, and I am sure that the one my wife has came from him. "

"Indeed, monsieur, " said Anne of Austria, "you build your pyramids onneedle points; be careful. What harm, I ask you, can there be in a mangiving to his countrywoman a receipt for a new essence? These strangeideas, I protest, painfully recall your father to me; he who sofrequently and so unjustly made me suffer. "

"The Duke of Buckingham's father was probably more reserved and morerespectful than his son, " said Philip, thoughtlessly, not perceiving howdeeply he had wounded his mother's feelings. The queen turned pale, and pressed her clenched hands upon her bosom; but, recovering herselfimmediately, she said, "You came here with some intention or another, Isuppose?"

"Certainly. "

"What was it?"

"I came, madame, intending to complain energetically, and to inform youthat I will not submit to such behavior from the Duke of Buckingham. "

"What do you intend to do, then?"

"I shall complain to the king. "

"And what do you expect the king to reply?"

"Very well, then, " said Monsieur, with an expression of sterndetermination on his countenance, which offered a singular contrast toits usual gentleness. "Very well. I will right myself!"

"What do you call righting yourself?" inquired Anne of Austria, inalarm. 

"I will have the Duke of Buckingham quit the princess, I will have himquit France, and I will see that my wishes are intimated to him. "

"You will intimate nothing of the kind, Philip, " said the queen, "for ifyou act in that manner, and violate hospitality to that extent, I willinvoke the severity of the king against you. "

"Do you threaten me, madame?" exclaimed Philip, almost in tears; "do youthreaten me in the midst of my complaints!"

"I do not threaten you; I do but place an obstacle in the path of yourhasty anger. I maintain that, to adopt towards the Duke of Buckingham, or any other Englishman, any rigorous measure--to take even adiscourteous step towards him, would be to plunge France and Englandinto the most disastrous disagreement. Can it be possible that a princeof the blood, the brother of the king of France, does not know how tohide an injury, even did it exist in reality, where political necessityrequires it?" Philip made a movement. "Besides, " continued the queen, "the injury is neither true nor possible, and it is merely a matter ofsilly jealousy. "

"Madame, I know what I know. "

"Whatever you may know, I can only advise you to be patient. "

"I am not patient by disposition, madame. "

The queen rose, full of severity, and with an icy ceremonious manner. "Explain what you really require, monsieur, " she said. 

"I do not require anything, madame; I simply express what I desire. If the Duke of Buckingham does not, of his own accord, discontinue hisvisits to my apartments I shall forbid him entrance. "

"That is a point you will refer to the king, " said Anne of Austria, herheart swelling as she spoke, and her voice trembling with emotion. 

"But, madame, " exclaimed Philip, striking his hands together, "act as mymother and not as the queen, since I speak to you as a son; it is simplya matter of a few minutes' conversation between the duke and myself. "

"It is that very conversation I forbid, " said the queen, resuming herauthority, "because it is unworthy of you. "

"Be it so; I will not appear in the matter, but I shall intimate my willto Madame. "

"Oh!" said the queen-mother, with a melancholy arising from reflection, "never tyrannize over a wife--never behave too haughtily or imperiouslytowards your own. A woman unwillingly convinced is unconvinced. "

"What is to be done, then?--I will consult my friends about it. "

"Yes, your double-dealing advisers, your Chevalier de Lorraine--your DeWardes. Intrust the conduct of this affair to me. You wish the Duke ofBuckingham to leave, do you not?"

"As soon as possible, madame. "

"Send the duke to me, then; smile upon your wife, behave to her, to theking, to every one, as usual. But follow no advice but mine. Alas! I toowell know what any household comes to that is troubled by advisers. "

"You shall be obeyed, madame. "

"And you will be satisfied at the result. Send the duke to me. "

"That will not be difficult. "

"Where do you suppose him to be?"

"At my wife's door, whose levee he is probably awaiting. "

"Very well. " said Anne of Austria, calmly. "Be good enough to tell theduke that I shall be charmed if he will pay me a visit. "

Philip kissed his mother's hand, and started off to find the Duke ofBuckingham. 

CHAPTER 92. Forever!

The Duke of Buckingham, obedient to the queen-mother's invitation, presented himself in her apartments half an hour after the departure ofthe Duc d'Orleans. When his name was announced by the gentleman-usherin attendance, the queen, who was sitting with her elbow resting on atable, and her head buried in her hands, rose, and smilingly receivedthe graceful and respectful salutation which the duke addressed to her. Anne of Austria was still beautiful. It is well known that at her thensomewhat advanced age, her long auburn hair, perfectly formed hands, andbright ruby lips, were still the admiration of all who saw her. On thepresent occasion, abandoned entirely to a remembrance which evoked allthe past in her heart, she looked almost as beautiful as in the daysof her youth, when her palace was open to the visits of the Duke ofBuckingham's father, then a young and impassioned man, as well as anunfortunate prince, who lived for her alone, and died with her name uponhis lips. Anne of Austria fixed upon Buckingham a look so tender inits expression, that it denoted, not alone the indulgence of maternalaffection, but a gentleness of expression like the coquetry of a womanwho loves. 

"Your majesty, " said Buckingham, respectfully, "desired to speak to me. "

"Yes, duke, " said the queen, in English; "will you be good enough to sitdown?"

The favor which Anne of Austria thus extended to the young man, and thewelcome sound of the language of a country from which the duke had beenestranged since his stay in France, deeply affected him. He immediatelyconjectured that the queen had a request to make of him. After havingabandoned the first few moments to the irrepressible emotions sheexperienced, the queen resumed the smiling air with which she hadreceived him. "What do you think of France?" she said, in French. 

"It is a lovely country, madame, " replied the duke. 

"Had you ever seen it before?"

"Once only, madame. "

"But, like all true Englishmen, you prefer England?"

"I prefer my own native land to France, " replied the duke; "but ifyour majesty were to ask me which of the two cities, London or Paris, Ishould prefer as a residence, I should be forced to answer, Paris. "

Anne of Austria observed the ardent manner with which these words hadbeen pronounced. "I am told my lord, you have rich possessions in yourown country and that you live in a splendid and time-honored palace. "

"It was my father's residence, " replied Buckingham, casting down hiseyes. 

"Those are indeed great advantages and souvenirs, " replied the queen, alluding, in spite of herself, to recollections from which it isimpossible voluntarily to detach one's self. 

"In fact, " said the duke, yielding to the melancholy influence of thisopening conversation, "sensitive persons live as much in the past or thefuture, as in the present. "

"That is very true, " said the queen, in a low tone of voice. "Itfollows, then, my lord, " she added, "that you, who are a man of feeling, will soon quit France in order to shut yourself up with your wealth andyour relics of the past. "

Buckingham raised his head and said, "I think not, madame. "

"What do you mean?"

"On the contrary, I think of leaving England in order to take up myresidence in France. "

It was now Anne of Austria's turn to exhibit surprise. "Why?" she said. "Are you not in favor with the new king?"

"Perfectly so, madame, for his majesty's kindness to me is unbounded. "

"It cannot, " said the queen, "be because your fortune has diminished, for it is said to be enormous. "

"My income, madame, has never been so large. "

"There is some secret cause, then?"

"No, madame, " said Buckingham, eagerly, "there is nothing secret in myreason for this determination. I prefer residence in France; I likea court so distinguished by its refinement and courtesy; I likethe amusements, somewhat serious in their nature, which are not theamusements of my own country, and which are met with in France. "

Anne of Austria smiled shrewdly. "Amusements of a serious nature?" shesaid. "Has your Grace well reflected on their seriousness?" The dukehesitated. "There is no amusement so serious, " continued the queen, "asto prevent a man of your rank----"

"Your majesty seems to insist greatly on that point, " interrupted theduke. 

"Do you think so, my lord?"

"If you will forgive me for saying so, it is the second time you havevaunted the attractions of England at the expense of the delight whichall experience who live in France. "

Anne of Austria approached the young man, and placing her beautifulhand upon his shoulder, which trembled at the touch, said, "Believe me, monsieur, nothing can equal a residence in one's own native country. Ihave very frequently had occasion to regret Spain. I have lived long, mylord, very long for a woman, and I confess to you, that not a year haspassed I have not regretted Spain. "

"Not one year, madame?" said the young duke coldly. "Not one of thoseyears when you reigned Queen of Beauty--as you still are, indeed?"

"A truce to flattery, duke, for I am old enough to be your mother. " Sheemphasized these latter words in a manner, and with a gentleness, whichpenetrated Buckingham's heart. "Yes, " she said, "I am old enough to beyour mother; and for this reason, I will give you a word of advice. "

"That advice being that I should return to London?" he exclaimed. 

"Yes, my lord. "

The duke clasped his hands with a terrified gesture which could not failof its effect upon the queen, already disposed to softer feelings by thetenderness of her own recollections. "It must be so, " added the queen. 

"What!" he again exclaimed, "am I seriously told that I mustleave, --that I must exile myself, --that I am to flee at once?"

"Exile yourself, did you say? One would fancy France was your nativecountry. "

"Madame, the country of those who love is the country of those whom theylove. "

"Not another word, my lord; you forget whom you are addressing. "

Buckingham threw himself on his knees. "Madame, you are the source ofintelligence, of goodness, and of compassion; you are the first personin this kingdom, not only by your rank, but the first person in theworld on account of your angelic attributes. I have said nothing, madame. Have I, indeed, said anything you should answer with such acruel remark? What have I betrayed?"

"You have betrayed yourself, " said the queen, in a low tone of voice. 

"I have said nothing, --I know nothing. "

"You forget you have spoken and thought in the presence of a woman, andbesides----"

"Besides, " said the duke, "no one knows you are listening to me. "

"On the contrary, it is known; you have all the defects and all thequalities of youth. "

"I have been betrayed or denounced, then?"

"By whom?"

"By those who, at Havre, had, with infernal perspicacity, read my heartlike an open book. "

"I do not know whom you mean. "

"M. De Bragelonne, for instance. "

"I know the name without being acquainted with the person to whom itbelongs. M. De Bragelonne has said nothing. "

"Who can it be, then? If any one, madame, had had the boldness to noticein me that which I do not myself wish to behold----"

"What would you do, duke?"

"There are secrets which kill those who discover them. "

"He, then, who has discovered your secret, madman that you are, stilllives; and, what is more, you will not slay him, for he is armed on allsides, --he is a husband, a jealous man, --he is the second gentleman inFrance, --he is my son, the Duc d'Orleans. "

The duke turned pale as death. "You are very cruel, madame, " he said. 

"You see, Buckingham, " said Anne of Austria, sadly, "how you pass fromone extreme to another, and fight with shadows, when it would seem soeasy to remain at peace with yourself. "

"If we fight, madame, we die on the field of battle, " replied the youngman, gently, abandoning himself to the most gloomy depression. 

Anne ran towards him and took him by the hand. "Villiers, " she said, inEnglish, with a vehemence of tone which nothing could resist, "whatis it you ask? Do you ask a mother to sacrifice her son, --a queen toconsent to the dishonor of her house? Child that you are, do not dreamof it. What! in order to spare your tears am I to commit these crimes?Villiers! you speak of the dead; the dead, at least, were full ofrespect and submission; they resigned themselves to an order of exile;they carried their despair away with them in their hearts, like apriceless possession, because the despair was caused by the woman theyloved, and because death, thus deceptive, was like a gift or a favorconferred upon them. "

Buckingham rose, his features distorted, and his hands pressed againsthis heart. "You are right, madame, " he said, "but those of whom youspeak had received their order of exile from the lips of the one whomthey loved; they were not driven away; they were entreated to leave, andwere not laughed at. "

"No, " murmured Anne of Austria, "they were not forgotten. But who saysyou are driven away, or that you are exiled? Who says that your devotionwill not be remembered? I do not speak on any one's behalf but my own, when I tell you to leave. Do me this kindness--grant me this favor; letme, for this also, be indebted to one of your name. "

"It is for your sake, then, madame?"

"For mine alone. "

"No one whom I shall leave behind me will venture to mock, --no princeeven who shall say, 'I required it. '"

"Listen to me, duke, " and hereupon the dignified features of the queenassumed a solemn expression. "I swear to you that no one commands inthis matter but myself. I swear to you that, not only shall no oneeither laugh or boast in any way, but no one even shall fail in therespect due to your rank. Rely upon me, duke, as I rely upon you. "

"You do not explain yourself, madame; my heart is full of bitterness, and I am in utter despair; no consolation, however gentle andaffectionate, can afford me relief. "

"Do you remember your mother, duke?" replied the queen, with a winningsmile. 

"Very slightly, madame; yet I remember how she used to cover me with hercaresses and her tears whenever I wept. "

"Villiers, " murmured the queen, passing her arm round the young man'sneck, "look upon me as your mother, and believe that no one shall evermake my son weep. "

"I thank you, madame, " said the young man, affected and almostsuffocated by his emotion, "I feel there is indeed still room in myheart for a gentler and nobler sentiment than love. "

The queen-mother looked at him and pressed his hand. "Go, " she said. 

"When must I leave? Command me. "

"At any time that may suit you, my lord, " resumed the queen; "you willchoose your own day of departure. Instead, however, of setting offto-day, as you would doubtless wish to do, or to-morrow, as othersmay have expected, leave the day after to-morrow, in the evening; butannounce to-day that it is your wish to leave. "

"My wish?" murmured the young duke. 

"Yes, duke. "

"And shall I never return to France?"

Anne of Austria reflected for a moment, seemingly absorbed in sad andserious thought. "It would be a consolation for me, " she said, "ifyou were to return on the day when I shall be carried to my finalresting-place at Saint-Denis beside the king, my husband. "

"Madame, you are goodness itself; the tide of prosperity is setting inon you; your cup brims over with happiness, and many long years are yetbefore you. "

"In that case you will not come for some time, then, " said the queen, endeavoring to smile. 

"I shall not return, " said Buckingham, "young as I am. Death does notreckon by years; it is impartial; some die young, some reach old age. "

"I will not harbor any sorrowful ideas, duke. Let me comfort you; returnin two years. I perceive from your face that the very idea which saddensyou so much now, will have disappeared before six months have passed, and will be not only dead but forgotten in the period of absence I haveassigned you. '

"I think you judged me better a little while ago madame, " replied theyoung man, "when you said that time is powerless against members of thefamily of Buckingham. "

"Silence, " said the queen, kissing the duke upon the forehead with anaffection she could not restrain. "Go, go; spare me and forget yourselfno longer. I am the queen; you are the subject of the king of England. King Charles awaits your return. Adieu, Villiers, --farewell. "

"Forever!" replied the young man, and he fled, endeavoring to master hisemotion. 

Anne leaned her head upon her hands, and then looking at herself in theglass, murmured, "It has been truly said, that a woman who has trulyloved is always young, and that the bloom of twenty years ever liesconcealed in some secret cloister of the heart. "

CHAPTER 93. King Louis XIV. Does not think Mademoiselle de la Valliereeither rich enough or pretty enough for a Gentleman of the Rank of theVicomte de Bragelonne

Raoul and the Comte de la Fere reached Paris the evening of the same dayon which Buckingham had held the conversation with the queen-mother. The count had scarcely arrived, when, through Raoul, he solicited anaudience of the king. His majesty had passed a portion of the morning inlooking over, with Madame and the ladies of the court, various goods ofLyons manufacture, of which he had made his sister-in-law a present. Acourt dinner had succeeded, then cards, and afterwards, according to hisusual custom, the king, leaving the card-tables at eight o'clock, passedinto his cabinet in order to work with M. Colbert and M. Fouquet. Raoulentered the ante-chamber at the very moment the two ministers quittedit, and the king, perceiving him through the half-closed door, said, "What do you want, M. De Bragelonne?"

The young man approached: "An audience, sire, " he replied, "for theComte de la Fere, who has just arrived from Blois, and is most anxiousto have an interview with your majesty. "

"I have an hour to spare between cards and supper, " said the king. "Isthe Comte de la Fere at hand?"

"He is below, and awaits your majesty's permission. "

"Let him come up at once, " said the king, and five minutes afterwardsAthos entered the presence of Louis XIV. He was received by the kingwith that gracious kindness of manner which Louis, with a tact beyondhis years, reserved for the purpose of gaining those who were not to beconquered by ordinary favors. "Let me hope, comte, " said the king, "thatyou have come to ask me for something. "

"I will not conceal from your majesty, " replied the comte, "that I amindeed come for that purpose. "

"That is well, " said the king, joyously. 

"It is not for myself, sire. "

"So much the worse; but, at least, I will do for your protege what yourefuse to permit me to do for you. "

"Your majesty encourages me. I have come to speak on behalf of theVicomte de Bragelonne. "

"It is the same as if you spoke on your own behalf, comte. "

"Not altogether so, sire. I am desirous of obtaining from your majestythat which I cannot ask for myself. The vicomte thinks of marrying. "

"He is still very young; but that does not matter. He is an eminentlydistinguished man, I will choose a wife for him. "

"He has already chosen one, sire, and only awaits your consent. "

"It is only a question, then, of signing the marriage-contract?" Athosbowed. "Has he chosen a wife whose fortune and position accord with yourown anticipations?"

Athos hesitated for a moment. "His affianced wife is of good birth, buthas no fortune. "

"That is a misfortune we can remedy. "

"You overwhelm me with gratitude, sire; but your majesty will permit meto offer a remark?"

"Do so, comte. "

"Your majesty seems to intimate an intention of giving amarriage-portion to this young lady. "

"Certainly. "

"I should regret, sire, if the step I have taken towards your majestyshould be attended by this result. "

"No false delicacy, comte; what is the bride's name?"

"Mademoiselle de la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere, " said Athos, coldly. 

"I seem to know that name, " said the king, as if reflecting; "there wasa Marquis de la Valliere. "

"Yes, sire, it is his daughter. "

"But he died, and his widow married again M. De Saint-Remy, I think, steward of the wager Madame's household. "

"Your majesty is correctly informed. "

"More than that, the young lady has lately become one of the princess'smaids of honor. "

"Your majesty is better acquainted with her history than I am. "

The king again reflected, and glancing at the comte's anxiouscountenance, said: "The young lady does not seem to me to be verypretty, comte. "

"I am not quite sure, " replied Athos. 

"I have seen her, but she hardly struck me as being so. "

"She seems to be a good and modest girl, but has little beauty, sire. "

"Beautiful fair hair, however. "

"I think so. "

"And her blue eyes are tolerably good. "

"Yes, sire. "

"With regard to beauty, then, the match is but an ordinary one. Now forthe money side of the question. "

"Fifteen to twenty thousand francs dowry at the very outside, sire; thelovers are disinterested enough; for myself, I care little for money. "

"For superfluity, you mean; but a needful amount is of importance. Withfifteen thousand francs, without landed property, a woman cannot live atcourt. We will make up the deficiency; I will do it for De Bragelonne. "The king again remarked the coldness with which Athos received theremark. 

"Let us pass from the question of money to that of rank, " said LouisXIV. ; "the daughter of the Marquis de la Valliere, that is well enough;but there is that excellent Saint-Remy, who somewhat damages the creditof the family; and you, comte, are rather particular, I believe, aboutyour own family. "

"Sire, I no longer hold to anything but my devotion to your majesty. "

The king again paused. "A moment, comte. You have surprised me in nolittle degree from the beginning of your conversation. You came to askme to authorize a marriage, and you seem greatly disturbed in having tomake the request. Nay, pardon me, comte, but I am rarely deceived, young as I am; for while with some persons I place my friendship at thedisposal of my understanding, with others I call my distrust to my aid, by which my discernment is increased. I repeat that you do not preferyour request as though you wished it success. "

"Well, sire, that is true. "

"I do not understand you, then; refuse. "

"Nay, sire; I love De Bragelonne with my whole heart; he is smitten withMademoiselle de la Valliere, he weaves dreams of bliss for the future;I am not one who is willing to destroy the illusions of youth. Thismarriage is objectionable to me, but I implore your majesty to consentto it forthwith, and thus make Raoul happy. "

"Tell me, comte, is she in love with him?"

"If your majesty requires me to speak candidly, I do not believe inMademoiselle de la Valliere's affection; the delight at being at court, the honor of being in the service of Madame, counteract in her headwhatever affection she may happen to have in her heart; it is a marriagesimilar to many others which already exist at court; but De Bragelonnewishes it, and so let it be. "

"And yet you do not resemble those easy-tempered fathers who volunteeras stepping-stones for their children, " said the king. 

"I am determined enough against the viciously disposed, but not soagainst men of upright character. Raoul is suffering; he is in greatdistress of mind: his disposition, naturally light and cheerful, hasbecome gloomy and melancholy. I do not wish to deprive your majesty ofthe services he may be able to render. "

"I understand you, " said the king; "and what is more, I understand yourheart, too, comte. "

"There is no occasion, therefore, " replied the comte, "to tell yourmajesty that my object is to make these children, or rather Raoul, happy. "

"And I, too, as much as yourself, comte, wish to secure M. DeBragelonne's happiness. "

"I only await your majesty's signature. Raoul will have the honor ofpresenting himself before your majesty to receive your consent. "

"You are mistaken, comte, " said the king, firmly; "I have just said thatI desire to secure M. De Bragelonne's happiness, and from the presentmoment, therefore, I oppose his marriage. "

"But, sire, " exclaimed Athos, "your majesty has promised!"

"Not so, comte, I did not promise you, for it is opposed to my ownviews. "

"I appreciate your majesty's considerate and generous intentions in mybehalf; but I take the liberty of recalling to you that I undertook toapproach you as an ambassador. "

"An ambassador, comte, frequently asks, but does not always obtain whathe asks. "

"But, sire, it will be such a blow for De Bragelonne. "

"My hand shall deal the blow; I will speak to the vicomte. "

"Love, sir, is overwhelming in its might. "

"Love can be resisted, comte. I myself can assure you of that. "

"When one has the soul of a king, --your own, for instance, sire. "

"Do not make yourself uneasy on the subject. I have certain views forDe Bragelonne. I do not say that he shall not marry Mademoiselle de laValliere, but I do not wish him to marry so young; I do not wish him tomarry her until she has acquired a fortune; and he, on his side, no lessdeserves favor, such as I wish to confer upon him. In a word, comte, Iwish them to wait. "

"Yet once more, sire. "

"Comte, you told me you came to request a favor. "

"Assuredly, sire. "

"Grant me one, then, instead; let us speak no longer upon this matter. It is probable that, before long, war may be declared. I require menabout me who are unfettered. I should hesitate to send under fire amarried man, or a father of a family. I should hesitate also, on DeBragelonne's account, to endow with a fortune, without some sound reasonfor it, a young girl, a perfect stranger; such an act would sow jealousyamongst my nobility. " Athos bowed, and remained silent. 

"Is that all you wished to ask me?" added Louis XIV. 

"Absolutely all, sire; and I take my leave of your majesty. Is it, however, necessary that I should inform Raoul?"

"Spare yourself the trouble and annoyance. Tell the vicomte that at mylevee to-morrow morning I will speak to him. I shall expect you thisevening, comte, to join my card-table. "

"I am in traveling-costume, sire. "

"A day will come, I hope, when you will leave me no more. Before long, comte, the monarchy will be established in such a manner as to enable meto offer a worthy hospitality to men of your merit. "

"Provided, sire, a monarch reigns grandly in the hearts of his subjects, the palace he inhabits matters little, since he is worshipped ina temple. " With these words Athos left the cabinet, and found DeBragelonne, who was awaiting him anxiously. 

"Well, monsieur?" said the young man. 

"The king, Raoul, is well intentioned towards us both; not, perhaps, inthe sense you suppose, but he is kind, and generously disposed to ourhouse. "

"You have bad news to communicate to me, monsieur, " said the young man, turning very pale. 

"The king himself will inform you tomorrow morning that it is not badnews. "

"The king has not signed, however?"

"The king wishes himself to settle the terms of the contract, and hedesires to make it so grand that he requires time for consideration. Throw the blame rather on your own impatience, than on the king's goodfeeling towards you. "

Raoul, in utter consternation, on account of his knowledge of thecount's frankness as well as his diplomacy, remained plunged in dull andgloomy stupor. 

"Will you not go with me to my lodgings?" said Athos. 

"I beg your pardon, monsieur; I will follow you, " he stammered out, following Athos down the staircase. 

"Since I am here, " said Athos, suddenly, "cannot I see M. D'Artagnan?"

"Shall I show you his apartments?" said De Bragelonne. 

"Do so. "

"They are on the opposite staircase. "

They altered their course, but on reaching the landing of the grandstaircase, Raoul perceived a servant in the Comte de Guiche's livery, who ran towards him as soon as he heard his voice. 

"What is it?" said Raoul. 

"This note, monsieur. My master heard of your return and wrote to youwithout delay; I have been looking for you for the last half-hour. "

Raoul approached Athos as he unsealed the letter, saying, "With yourpermission, monsieur. "

"Certainly. "

"Dear Raoul, " wrote the Comte de Guiche, "I have an affair in hand whichrequires immediate attention; I know you have returned, come to me assoon as possible. "

Hardly had he finished reading it, when a servant in the livery of theDuke of Buckingham, turning out of the gallery, recognized Raoul, andapproached him respectfully, saying, "From his Grace, monsieur. "

"Well, Raoul, as I see you are already as busy as a general of an army, I shall leave you, and will find M. D'Artagnan myself. "

"You will excuse me, I trust, " said Raoul. 

"Yes, yes, I excuse you; adieu, Raoul; you will find me at my apartmentsuntil to-morrow; during the day I may set out for Blois, unless I haveorders to the contrary. "

"I shall present my respects to you to-morrow, monsieur. "

As soon as Athos had left, Raoul opened Buckingham's letter. 

"Monsieur de Bragelonne, " it ran, "You are, of all the Frenchmen Ihave known, the one with whom I am most pleased; I am about to put yourfriendship to the proof. I have received a certain message, writtenin very good French. As I am an Englishman, I am afraid of notcomprehending it very clearly. The letter has a good name attached toit, and that is all I can tell you. Will you be good enough to come andsee me? for I am told you have arrived from Blois. 

"Your devoted

"Villiers, Duke of Buckingham. "

"I am going now to see your master, " said Raoul to De Guiche's servant, as he dismissed him; "and I shall be with the Duke of Buckingham in anhour, " he added, dismissing with these words the duke's messenger. 

CHAPTER 94. Sword-thrusts in the Water

Raoul, on betaking himself to De Guiche, found him conversing with DeWardes and Manicamp. De Wardes, since the affair of the barricade, had treated Raoul as a stranger; they behaved as if they were notacquainted. As Raoul entered, De Guiche walked up to him; and Raoul, as he grasped his friend's hand, glanced rapidly at his two companions, hoping to be able to read on their faces what was passing in theirminds. De Wardes was cold and impenetrable; Manicamp seemed absorbed inthe contemplation of some trimming to his dress. De Guiche led Raoulto an adjoining cabinet, and made him sit down, saying, "How well youlook!"

"That is singular, " replied Raoul, "for I am far from being in goodspirits. "

"It is your case, then, Raoul, as it is my own, --our love affairs do notprogress. "

"So much the better, count, as far as you are concerned; the worst newswould be good news. "

"In that case do not distress yourself, for, not only am I very unhappy, but, what is more, I see others about me who are happy. "

"Really, I do not understand you, " replied Raoul; "explain yourself. "

"You will soon learn. I have tried, but in vain, to overcome the feelingyou saw dawn in me, increase and take entire possession of me. I havesummoned all your advice and my own strength to my aid. I have wellweighed the unfortunate affair in which I have embarked; I have soundedits depths; that it is an abyss, I am aware, but it matters little, forI shall pursue my own course. "

"This is madness, De Guiche! you cannot advance another step withoutrisking your own ruin to-day, perhaps your life to-morrow. "

"Whatever may happen, I have done with reflections; listen. "

"And you hope to succeed; you believe that Madame will love you?"

"Raoul, I believe nothing; I hope, because hope exists in man, and neverabandons him till death. "

"But, admitting that you obtain the happiness you covet, even then, youare more certainly lost than if you had failed in obtaining it. "

"I beseech you, Raoul, not to interrupt me any more; you could neverconvince me, for I tell you beforehand, I do not wish to be convinced; Ihave gone so far I cannot recede; I have suffered so much, death itselfwould be a boon. I no longer love to madness, Raoul, I am being engulfedby a whirlpool of jealousy. "

Raoul struck his hands together with an expression resembling anger. "Well?" said he. 

"Well or ill matters little. This is what I claim from you, my friend, my almost brother. During the last three days Madame has been living ina perfect intoxication of gayety. On the first day, I dared not lookat her; I hated her for not being as unhappy as myself. The next day Icould not bear her out of my sight; and she, Raoul--at least I thoughtI remarked it--she looked at me, if not with pity, at least withgentleness. But between her looks and mine, a shadow intervened;another's smile invited hers. Beside her horse another's always gallops, which is not mine; in her ear another's caressing voice, not mine, unceasingly vibrates. Raoul, for three days past my brain has been onfire; flame, not blood, courses through my veins. That shadow must bedriven away, that smile must be quenched; that voice must be silenced. "

"You wish Monsieur's death, " exclaimed Raoul. 

"No, no, I am not jealous of the husband; I am jealous of the lover. "

"Of the lover?" said Raoul. 

"Have you not observed it, you who were formerly so keen-sighted?"

"Are you jealous of the Duke of Buckingham?"

"To the very death. "

"Again jealous?"

"This time the affair will be easy to arrange between us; I have takenthe initiative, and have sent him a letter. "

"It was you, then, who wrote to him?"

"How do you know that?"

"I know it, because he told me so. Look at this;" and he handed DeGuiche the letter he had received nearly at the same moment as his own. De Guiche read it eagerly, and said, "He is a brave man, and more thanthat, a gallant man. "

"Most certainly the duke is a gallant man; I need not ask if you wroteto him in a similar style. "

"He will show you my letter when you call on him on my behalf. "

"But that is almost out of the question. "

"What is?"

"That I shall call on him for that purpose. "

"Why so?"

"The duke consults me as you do. "

"I suppose you will give me the preference! Listen to me, Raoul, Iwish you to tell his Grace--it is a very simple matter--that to-day, to-morrow, the following day, or any other day he may choose. I willmeet him at Vincennes. "

"Reflect, De Guiche. "

"I thought I told you I have reflected. "

"The duke is a stranger here; he is on a mission which renders hisperson inviolable. . . . Vincennes is close to the Bastile. "

"The consequences concern me. "

"But the motive for this meeting? What motive do you wish me to assign?"

"Be perfectly easy on that score, he will not ask any. The duke must beas sick of me as I am of him. I implore you, therefore, seek the duke, and if it is necessary to entreat him to accept my offer, I will do so. "

"That is useless. The duke has already informed me that he wishes tospeak to me. The duke is now playing cards with the king. Let us both gothere. I will draw him aside in the gallery: you will remain aloof. Twowords will be sufficient. "

"That is well arranged. I will take De Wardes to keep me incountenance. "

"Why not Manicamp? De Wardes can join us at any time; we can leave himhere. "

"Yes, that is true. "

"He knows nothing?"

"Positively nothing. You continue still on an unfriendly footing, then?"

"Has he not told you anything?"

"Nothing. "

"I do not like the man, and, as I never liked him, the result is, that Iam on no worse terms with him to-day than I was yesterday. "

"Let us go, then. "

The four descended the stairs. De Guiche's carriage was waiting at thedoor, and took them to the Palais-Royal. As they were going along, Raoulwas engaged in devising his scheme of action. The sole depositary of twosecrets, he did not despair of concluding some arrangement between thetwo parties. He knew the influence he exercised over Buckingham, andthe ascendency he had acquired over De Guiche, and affairs did not lookutterly hopeless. On their arrival in the gallery, dazzling with theblaze of light, where the most beautiful and illustrious women of thecourt moved to and fro, like stars in their own atmosphere, Raoul couldnot prevent himself for a moment forgetting De Guiche in order toseek out Louise, who, amidst her companions, like a dove completelyfascinated, gazed long and fixedly upon the royal circle, whichglittered with jewels and gold. All its members were standing, the kingalone being seated. Raoul perceived Buckingham, who was standing afew places from Monsieur, in a group of French and English, who wereadmiring his aristocratic carriage and the incomparable magnificenceof his costume. Some of the older courtiers remembered having seen hisfather, but their recollections were not prejudicial to the son. 

Buckingham was conversing with Fouquet, who was talking with him aloudabout Belle-Isle. "I cannot speak to him at present, " said Raoul. 

"Wait, then, and choose your opportunity, but finish everythingspeedily. I am on thorns. "

"See, our deliverer approaches, " said Raoul, perceiving D'Artagnan, who, magnificently dressed in his new uniform of captain of the musketeers, had just made his entry in the gallery; and he advanced towardsD'Artagnan. 

"The Comte de la Fere has been looking for you, chevalier, " said Raoul. 

"Yes, " replied D'Artagnan, "I have just left him. "

"I thought you would have passed a portion of the evening together. "

"We have arranged to meet again. "

As he answered Raoul, his absent looks were directed on all sides, asif seeking some one in the crowd, or looking for something in the room. Suddenly his gaze became fixed, like that of an eagle on its prey. Raoulfollowed the direction of his glance, and noticed that De Guiche andD'Artagnan saluted each other, but he could not distinguish at whom thecaptain's inquiring and haughty glance was aimed. 

"Chevalier, " said Raoul, "there is no one here but yourself who canrender me a service. "

"What is it, my dear vicomte?"

"It is simply to go and interrupt the Duke of Buckingham, to whom I wishto say two words, and, as the duke is conversing with M. Fouquet, youunderstand that it would not do for me to throw myself into the middleof the conversation. "

"Ah, ah, is M. Fouquet there?" inquired D'Artagnan. 

"Do you not see him?"

"Yes, now I do. But do you think I have a greater right than you have?"

"You are a more important personage. "

"Yes, you're right; I am captain of the musketeers; I have had the postpromised me so long, and have enjoyed it for so brief a period, that Iam always forgetting my dignity. "

"You will do me this service, will you not?"

"M. Fouquet--the deuce!"

"Are you not on good terms with him?"

"It is rather he who may not be on good terms with me; however, since itmust be done some day or another----"

"Stay; I think he is looking at you; or is it likely that it mightbe----"

"No, no, don't deceive yourself, it is indeed me for whom this honor isintended. "

"The opportunity is a good one, then?"

"Do you think so?"

"Pray go. "

"Well, I will. "

De Guiche had not removed his eyes from Raoul, who made a sign to himthat all was arranged. D'Artagnan walked straight up to the group, andcivilly saluted M. Fouquet as well as the others. 

"Good evening, M. D'Artagnan; we were speaking of Belle-Isle, " saidFouquet, with that usage of society, and that perfect knowledge of thelanguage of looks, which require half a lifetime thoroughly to acquire, and which some persons, notwithstanding all their study, never attain. 

"Of Belle-Isle-en-Mer! Ah!" said D'Artagnan. "It belongs to you, Ibelieve, M. Fouquet?"

"M. Fouquet has just told me that he had presented it to the king, " saidBuckingham. 

"Do you know Belle-Isle, chevalier?" inquired Fouquet. 

"I have only been there once, " replied D'Artagnan, with readiness andgood-humor. 

"Did you remain there long?"

"Scarcely a day. "

"Did you see much of it while you were there?"

"All that could be seen in a day. "

"A great deal can be seen with observation as keen as yours, " saidFouquet; at which D'Artagnan bowed. 

During this Raoul made a sign to Buckingham. "M. Fouquet, " saidBuckingham, "I leave the captain with you, he is more learned than Iam in bastions, scarps, and counter-scarps, and I will join one of myfriends, who has just beckoned me. " Saying this, Buckingham disengagedhimself from the group, and advanced towards Raoul, stopping for amoment at the table where the queen-mother, the young queen, and theking were playing together. 

"Now, Raoul, " said De Guiche, "there he is; be firm and quick. "

Buckingham, having made some complimentary remark to Madame, continuedhis way towards Raoul, who advanced to meet him, while De Guicheremained in his place, though he followed him with his eyes. Themaneuver was so arranged that the young men met in an open space whichwas left vacant, between the group of players and the gallery, wherethey walked, stopping now and then for the purpose of saying a few wordsto some of the graver courtiers who were walking there. At the momentwhen the two lines were about to unite, they were broken by a third. Itwas Monsieur who advanced toward the Duke of Buckingham. Monsieur hadhis most engaging smile on his red and perfumed lips. 

"My dear duke, " said he, with the most affectionate politeness; "is itreally true what I have just been told?"

Buckingham turned round, he had not noticed Monsieur approach; but hadmerely heard his voice. He started in spite of his command over himself, and a slight pallor overspread his face. "Monseigneur, " he asked, "whathas been told you that surprises you so much?"

"That which throws me into despair, and will, in truth, be a real causeof mourning for the whole court. "

"Your highness is very kind, for I perceive that you allude to mydeparture. "

"Precisely. "

Guiche had overheard the conversation from where he was standing, andstarted in his turn. "His departure, " he murmured. "What does he say?"

Philip continued with the same gracious air, "I can easily conceive, monsieur, why the king of Great Britain recalls you; we all know thatKing Charles II. ; who appreciates true gentlemen, cannot dispense withyou. But it cannot be supposed we can let you go without great regret;and I beg you to receive the expression of my own. "

"Believe me, monseigneur, " said the duke, "that if I quit the court ofFrance----"

"Because you are recalled; but, if you suppose the expression of my ownwish on the subject might possibly have any influence with the king, Iwill gladly volunteer to entreat his majesty Charles II. To leave youwith us a little while longer. "

"I am overwhelmed, monseigneur, by so much kindness, " repliedBuckingham, "but I have received positive commands. My residence inFrance was limited; I have prolonged it at the risk of displeasing mygracious sovereign. It is only this very day that I recollected I oughtto have set off four days ago. "

"Indeed, " said Monsieur. 

"Yes, but, " added Buckingham, raising his voice in such a manner thatthe princess could hear him, --"but I resemble that dweller in the East, who turned mad, and remained so for several days, owing to a delightfuldream that he had had, but who one day awoke, if not completelycured, in some respects rational at least. The court of France has itsintoxicating properties, which are not unlike this dream, my lord; butat last I wake and leave it. I shall be unable, therefore, to prolong myresidence, as your highness has so kindly invited me to do. "

"When do you leave?" inquired Philip, with an expression full ofinterest. 

"To-morrow, monseigneur. My carriages have been ready for three days. "

The Duc d'Orleans made a movement of the head, which seemed tosignify, "Since you are determined, duke, there is nothing to be said. "Buckingham returned the gesture, concealing under a smile a contractionof his heart; and then Monsieur moved away in the same direction bywhich he had approached. At the same moment, however, De Guiche advancedfrom the opposite direction. Raoul feared that the impatient young manmight possibly make the proposition himself, and hurried forward beforehim. 

"No, no, Raoul, all is useless now, " said Guiche, holding both his handstoward the duke, and leading him behind a column. "Forgive me, duke, forwhat I wrote to you, I was mad; give me back my letter. "

"It is true, " said the duke, "you cannot owe me a grudge any longernow. "

"Forgive me, duke; my friendship, my lasting friendship is yours. "

"There is certainly no reason why you should bear me any ill-will fromthe moment I leave her never to see her again. "

Raoul heard these words, and comprehending that his presence was nowuseless between the two young men, who had now only friendly words toexchange, withdrew a few paces; a movement which brought him closer toDe Wardes, who was conversing with the Chevalier de Lorraine respectingthe departure of Buckingham. "A strategic retreat, " said De Wardes. 

"Why so?"

"Because the dear duke saves a sword-thrust by it. " At which reply bothlaughed. 

Raoul, indignant, turned round frowningly, flushed with anger and hislip curling with disdain. The Chevalier de Lorraine turned on his heel, but De Wardes remained and waited. 

"You will not break yourself of the habit, " said Raoul to De Wardes, "ofinsulting the absent; yesterday it was M. D'Artagnan, to-day it is theDuke of Buckingham. "

"You know very well, monsieur, " returned De Wardes, "that I sometimesinsult those who are present. "

De Wardes was close to Raoul, their shoulders met, their facesapproached, as if to mutually inflame each other by the fire of theirlooks and of their anger. It could be seen that the one was at theheight of fury, the other at the end of his patience. Suddenly a voicewas heard behind them full of grace and courtesy saying, "I believe Iheard my name pronounced. "

They turned round and saw D'Artagnan, who, with a smiling eye and acheerful face, had just placed his hand on De Wardes's shoulder. Raoulstepped back to make room for the musketeer. De Wardes trembled fromhead to foot, turned pale, but did not move. D'Artagnan, still with thesame smile, took the place which Raoul abandoned to him. 

"Thank you, my dear Raoul, " he said. "M. De Wardes, I wish to talk withyou. Do not leave us Raoul; every one can hear what I have to say to M. De Wardes. " His smile immediately faded away, and his glance became coldand sharp as a sword. 

"I am at your orders, monsieur, " said De Wardes. 

"For a very long time, " resumed D'Artagnan, "I have sought anopportunity of conversing with you; to-day is the first time I havefound it. The place is badly chosen, I admit, but you will perhapshave the goodness to accompany me to my apartments, which are on thestaircase at the end of this gallery. "

"I follow you, monsieur, " said De Wardes. 

"Are you alone here?" said D'Artagnan. 

"No; I have M. Manicamp and M. De Guiche, two of my friends. "

"That's well, " said D'Artagnan; "but two persons are not sufficient; youwill be able to find a few others, I trust. "

"Certainly, " said the young man, who did not know what object D'Artagnanhad in view. "As many as you please. "

"Are they friends?"

"Yes, monsieur. "

"Real friends?"

"No doubt of it. "

"Very well, get a good supply, then. Do you come, too, Raoul; bring M. De Guiche and the Duke of Buckingham. "

"What a disturbance, " replied De Wardes, attempting to smile. Thecaptain slightly signed to him with his hand, as though to recommend himto be patient, and then led the way to his apartments. 

CHAPTER 95. Sword-thrusts in the Water (concluded)

D'Artagnan's apartment was not unoccupied, for the Comte de la Fere, seated in the recess of a window, awaited him. "Well, " said he toD'Artagnan, as he saw him enter. 

"Well, " said the latter, "M. De Wardes has done me the honor to pay me avisit, in company with some of his own friends, as well as of ours. " Infact, behind the musketeer appeared De Wardes and Manicamp followed byDe Guiche and Buckingham, who looked surprised, not knowing what wasexpected of them. Raoul was accompanied by two or three gentlemen; and, as he entered, glanced round the room, and perceiving the count, he wentand placed himself by his side. D'Artagnan received his visitorswith all the courtesy he was capable of; he preserved his unmoved andunconcerned look. All the persons present were men of distinction, occupying posts of honor and credit at the court. After he hadapologized to each of them for any inconvenience he might have putthem to, he turned towards De Wardes, who, in spite of his customaryself-command, could not prevent his face betraying some surprise mingledwith not a little uneasiness. 

"Now, monsieur, " said D'Artagnan, "since we are no longer within theprecincts of the king's palace, and since we can speak out withoutfailing in respect to propriety, I will inform you why I have taken theliberty to request you to visit me here, and why I have invited thesegentlemen to be present at the same time. My friend, the Comte de laFere, has acquainted me with the injurious reports you are spreadingabout myself. You have stated that you regard me as your mortal enemy, because I was, so you affirm, that of your father. "

"Perfectly true, monsieur, I have said so, " replied De Wardes, whosepallid face became slightly tinged with color. 

"You accuse me, therefore, of a crime, or a fault, or of some meanand cowardly act. Have the goodness to state your charge against me inprecise terms. "

"In the presence of witnesses?"

"Most certainly in the presence of witnesses; and you see I haveselected them as being experienced in affairs of honor. "

"You do not appreciate my delicacy, monsieur. I have accused you, it istrue; but I have kept the nature of the accusation a perfect secret. I entered into no details; but have rested satisfied by expressing myhatred in the presence of those on whom a duty was almost imposed toacquaint you with it. You have not taken the discreetness I have showninto consideration, although you were interested in remaining silent. Ican hardly recognize your habitual prudence in that, M. D'Artagnan. "

D'Artagnan, who was quietly biting the corner of his mustache, said, "Ihave already had the honor to beg you to state the particulars of thegrievances you say you have against me. "

"Aloud?"

"Certainly, aloud. "

"In that case, I will speak. "

"Speak, monsieur, " said D'Artagnan, bowing; "we are all listening toyou. "

"Well, monsieur, it is not a question of a personal injury towardsmyself, but one towards my father. "

"That you have already stated. "

"Yes, but there are certain subjects which are only approached withhesitation. "

"If that hesitation, in your case, really does exist, I entreat you toovercome it. "

"Even if it refer to a disgraceful action?"

"Yes; in every and any case. "

Those who were present at this scene had, at first, looked at each otherwith a good deal of uneasiness. They were reassured, however, when theysaw that D'Artagnan manifested no emotion whatever. 

De Wardes still maintained the same unbroken silence. "Speak, monsieur, "said the musketeer; "you see you are keeping us waiting. "

"Listen, then:--My father loved a lady of noble birth, and this ladyloved my father. " D'Artagnan and Athos exchanged looks. De Wardescontinued: "M. D'Artagnan found some letters which indicated arendezvous, substituted himself, under disguise, for the person who wasexpected, and took advantage of the darkness. "

"That is perfectly true, " said D'Artagnan. 

A slight murmur was heard from those present. "Yes, I was guilty of thatdishonorable action. You should have added, monsieur, since you are soimpartial, that, at the period when the circumstance which you have justrelated, happened, I was not one-and-twenty years of age. "

"Such an action is not the less shameful on that account, " said DeWardes; "and it is quite sufficient for a gentleman to have attained theage of reason, to avoid committing an act of indelicacy. "

A renewed murmur was heard, but this time of astonishment, and almost ofdoubt. 

"It was a most shameful deception, I admit, " said D'Artagnan, "and Ihave not waited for M. De Wardes's reproaches to reproach myself for it, and very bitterly, too. Age has, however, made me more reasonable, andabove all, more upright; and this injury has been atoned for by a longand lasting regret. But I appeal to you, gentlemen; this affair tookplace in 1626, at a period, happily for yourselves, known to you bytradition only, at a period when love was not over scrupulous, when consciences did not distill, as in the present day, poison andbitterness. We were young soldiers, always fighting, or being attacked, our swords always in our hands, or at least ready to be drawn from theirsheaths. Death then always stared us in the face, war hardened us, andthe cardinal pressed us sorely. I have repented of it, and more thanthat--I still repent it, M. De Wardes. "

"I can well understand that, monsieur, for the action itself neededrepentance; but you were not the less the cause of that lady's disgrace. She, of whom you have been speaking, covered with shame, borne down bythe affront you brought upon her, fled, quitted France, and no one everknew what became of her. "

"Stay, " said the Comte de la Fere, stretching his hand towards DeWardes, with a peculiar smile upon his face, "you are mistaken; she wasseen; and there are persons even now present, who, having often heardher spoken of, will easily recognize her by the description I am aboutto give. She was about five-and-twenty years of age, slender in form, ofa pale complexion, and fair-haired; she was married in England. "

"Married?" exclaimed De Wardes. 

"So, you were not aware she was married? You see we are far betterinformed than yourself. Do you happen to know she was usually styled 'MyLady, ' without the addition of any name to that description?"

"Yes, I know that. "

"Good Heavens!" murmured Buckingham. 

"Very well, monsieur. That woman, who came from England, returned toEngland after having thrice attempted M. D'Artagnan's life. That was butjust, you will say, since M. D'Artagnan had insulted her. But that whichwas not just was, that, when in England, this woman, by her seductions, completely enslaved a young man in the service of Lord de Winter, byname Felton. You change color, my lord, " said Athos turning to the Dukeof Buckingham, "and your eyes kindle with anger and sorrow. Let yourGrace finish the recital, then, and tell M. De Wardes who this woman waswho placed the knife in the hand of your father's murderer. "

A cry escaped from the lips of all present. The young duke passed hishandkerchief across his forehead, which was covered with perspiration. Adead silence ensued among the spectators. 

"You see, M. De Wardes, " said D'Artagnan, whom this recital hadimpressed more and more, as his own recollection revived as Athos spoke, "you see that my crime did not cause the destruction of any one's soul, and that the soul in question may fairly be considered to have beenaltogether lost before my regret. It is, however, an act of conscienceon my part. Now this matter is settled, therefore, it remains for meto ask with the greatest humility, your forgiveness for this shamelessaction, as most certainly I should have asked it of your father, ifhe were still alive, and if I had met him after my return to France, subsequent to the death of King Charles I. "

"That is too much, M. D'Artagnan, " exclaimed many voices, withanimation. 

"No, gentlemen, " said the captain. "And now, M. De Wardes, I hope all isfinished between us, and that you will have no further occasion to speakill of me again. Do you consider it completely settled?"

De Wardes bowed, and muttered to himself inarticulately. 

"I trust also, " said D'Artagnan, approaching the young man closely, "that you will no longer speak ill of any one, as it seems you have theunfortunate habit of doing; for a man so puritanically conscientiousas you are, who can reproach an old soldier for a youthful freakfive-and-thirty years after it happened, will allow me to ask whetheryou who advocate such excessive purity of conscience, will undertake onyour side to do nothing contrary either to conscience or the principleof honor. And now, listen attentively to what I am going to say, M. DeWardes, in conclusion. Take care that no tale, with which your name maybe associated, reaches my ear. "

"Monsieur, " said De Wardes, "it is useless threatening to no purpose. "

"I have not yet finished, M. De Wardes, and you must listen to me stillfurther. " The circle of listeners, full of eager curiosity, drew closer. "You spoke just now of the honor of a woman, and of the honor ofyour father. We were glad to hear you speak in that manner; for it ispleasing to think that such a sentiment of delicacy and rectitude, andwhich did not exist, it seems, in our minds, lives in our children; andit is delightful too, to see a young man, at an age when men from habitbecome the destroyers of the honor of women, respect and defend it. "

De Wardes bit his lips and clenched his hands, evidently much disturbedto learn how this discourse, the commencement of which was announced inso threatening a manner, would terminate. 

"How did it happen, then, that you allowed yourself to say to M. DeBragelonne that he did not know who his mother was?"

Raoul's eye flashed, as, darting forward, he exclaimed, --"Chevalier, this is a personal affair of my own!" At which exclamation, a smile, full of malice, passed across De Wardes's face. 

D'Artagnan put Raoul aside, saying, --"Do not interrupt me, young man. "And looking at De Wardes in an authoritative manner, he continued:--"Iam now dealing with a matter which cannot be settled by means of thesword. I discuss it before men of honor, all of whom have more than oncehad their swords in their hands in affairs of honor. I selected themexpressly. These gentlemen well know that every secret for which menfight ceases to be a secret. I again put my question to M. De Wardes. What was the subject of conversation when you offended this young man, in offending his father and mother at the same time?"

"It seems to me, " returned De Wardes, "that liberty of speech isallowed, when it is supported by every means which a man of courage hasat his disposal. "

"Tell me what the means are by which a man of courage can sustain aslanderous expression. "

"The sword. "

"You fail, not only in logic, in your argument, but in religion andhonor. You expose the lives of many others, without referring to yourown, which seems to be full of hazard. Besides, fashions pass away, monsieur, and the fashion of duelling has passed away, without referringin any way to the edicts of his majesty which forbid it. Therefore, inorder to be consistent with your own chivalrous notions, you will atonce apologize to M. De Bragelonne; you will tell him how much youregret having spoken so lightly, and that the nobility and purity ofhis race are inscribed, not in his heart alone, but still more in everyaction of his life. You will do and say this, M. De Wardes, as I, an oldofficer, did and said just now to your boy's mustache. "

"And if I refuse?" inquired De Wardes. 

"In that case the result will be--"

"That which you think you will prevent, " said De Wardes, laughing; "theresult will be that your conciliatory address will end in a violation ofthe king's prohibition. "

"Not so, " said the captain, "you are quite mistaken. "

"What will be the result, then?"

"The result will be that I shall go to the king, with whom I am ontolerably good terms, to whom I have been happy enough to render certainservices dating from a period when you were not born, and who atmy request, has just sent me an order in blank for M. Baisemeaux deMontlezun, governor of the Bastile; and I shall say to the king: 'Sire, a man has in a most cowardly way insulted M. De Bragelonne by insultinghis mother; I have written this man's name upon the lettre de cachetwhich your majesty has been kind enough to give me, so that M. De Wardesis in the Bastile for three years. '" And D'Artagnan drawing the ordersigned by the king from his pocket, held it towards De Wardes. 

Remarking that the young man was not quite convinced, and receivedthe warning as an idle threat, he shrugged his shoulders and walkedleisurely towards the table, upon which lay a writing-case and a pen, the length of which would have terrified the topographical Porthos. DeWardes then saw that nothing could well be more seriously intended thanthe threat in question for the Bastile, even at that period, was alreadyheld in dread. He advanced a step towards Raoul, and, in an almostunintelligible voice, said, --"I offer my apologies in the terms which M. D'Artagnan just now dictated, and which I am forced to make to you. "

"One moment, monsieur, " said the musketeer, with the greatesttranquillity, "you mistake the terms of the apology. I did not say, 'andwhich I am forced to make'; I said, 'and which my conscience induces meto make. ' This latter expression, believe me, is better than the former;and it will be far preferable, since it will be the most truthfulexpression of your own sentiments. "

"I subscribe to it, " said De Wardes; "but submit, gentlemen, that athrust of a sword through the body, as was the custom formerly, was farbetter than tyranny like this. "

"No, monsieur, " replied Buckingham; "for the sword-thrust, whenreceived, was no indication that a particular person was right or wrong;it only showed that he was more or less skillful in the use of theweapon. "

"Monsieur!" exclaimed De Wardes. 

"There, now, " interrupted D'Artagnan, "you are going to say somethingvery rude, and I am rendering you a service by stopping you in time. "

"Is that all, monsieur?" inquired De Wardes. 

"Absolutely everything, " replied D'Artagnan, "and these gentlemen, aswell as myself, are quite satisfied with you. "

"Believe me monsieur, that your reconciliations are not successful. "

"In what way?"

"Because, as we are now about to separate. I would wager that M. DeBragelonne and myself are greater enemies than ever. "

"You are deceived, monsieur, as far as I am concerned, " returned Raoul;"for I do not retain the slightest animosity in my heart against you. "

This last blow overwhelmed De Wardes. He cast his eyes around him likea man bewildered. D'Artagnan saluted most courteously the gentlemen whohad been present at the explanation; and every one, on leaving the room, shook hands with him; but not one hand was held out towards De Wardes. "Oh!" exclaimed the young man, abandoning himself to the rage whichconsumed him, "can I not find some one on whom to wreak my vengeance?"

"You can, monsieur, for I am here, " whispered a voice full of menace inhis ear. 

De Wardes turned round, and saw the Duke of Buckingham, who, havingprobably remained behind with that intention, had just approached him. "You, monsieur?" exclaimed De Wardes. 

"Yes, I! I am no subject of the king of France; I am not going to remainon the territory, since I am about setting off for England. I haveaccumulated in my heart such a mass of despair and rage, that I, too, like yourself, need to revenge myself upon some one. I approve M. D'Artagnan's principles profoundly, but I am not bound to apply themto you. I am an Englishman, and, in my turn, I propose to you what youproposed to others to no purpose. Since you, therefore, are so terriblyincensed, take me as a remedy. In thirty-four hours' time I shall be atCalais. Come with me; the journey will appear shorter if together, thanif alone. We will fight, when we get there, upon the sands which arecovered by the rising tide, and which form part of the French territoryduring six hours of the day, but belong to the territory of Heavenduring the other six. "

"I accept willingly, " said De Wardes. 

"I assure you, " said the duke, "that if you kill me, you will berendering me an infinite service. "

"I will do my utmost to make myself agreeable to you, duke, " said DeWardes. 

"It is agreed, then, that I carry you off with me?"

"I shall be at your commands. I needed some real danger and some mortalrisk to run, to tranquilize me. "

"In that case, I think you have met with what you are looking for. Farewell, M. De Wardes; to-morrow morning, my valet will tell you theexact hour of our departure; we can travel together like two excellentfriends. I generally travel as fast as I can. Adieu. "

Buckingham saluted De Wardes, and returned towards the king'sapartments; De Wardes, irritated beyond measure, left the Palais-Royal, and hurried through the streets homeward to the house where he lodged. 

CHAPTER 96. Baisemeaux de Montlezun

After the austere lesson administered to De Wardes, Athos and D'Artagnantogether descended the staircase which led to the courtyard of thePalais-Royal. "You perceive, " said Athos to D'Artagnan, "that Raoulcannot, sooner or later, avoid a duel with De Wardes, for De Wardes isas brave as he is vicious and wicked. "

"I know such fellows well, " replied D'Artagnan; "I had an affair withthe father. I assure you that, although at that time I had good musclesand a sort of brute courage--I assure you that the father did me somemischief. But you should have seen how I fought it out with him. Ah, Athos, such encounters never take place in these times! I had a handwhich could never remain at rest, a hand like quicksilver, --you knew itsquality, for you have seen me at work. My sword was no longer a pieceof steel; it was a serpent that assumed every form and every length, seeking where it might thrust its head; in other words, where it mightfix its bite. I advanced half a dozen paces, then three, and then, bodyto body, I pressed my antagonist closely, then I darted back againten paces. No human power could resist that ferocious ardor. Well, De Wardes, the father, with the bravery of his race, with his doggedcourage, occupied a good deal of my time; and my fingers, at the end ofthe engagement, were, I well remember, tired enough. "

"It is, then, as I said, " resumed Athos, "the son will always be lookingout for Raoul, and will end by meeting him; and Raoul can easily befound when he is sought for. "

"Agreed; but Raoul calculates well; he bears no grudge against DeWardes, --he has said so; he will wait until he is provoked, and in thatcase his position is a good one. The king will not be able to get outof temper about the matter; besides we shall know how to pacify hismajesty. But why so full of these fears and anxieties? You don't easilyget alarmed. "

"I will tell you what makes me anxious; Raoul is to see the kingto-morrow, when his majesty will inform him of his wishes respecting acertain marriage. Raoul, loving as he does, will get out of temper, andonce in an angry mood, if he were to meet De Wardes, the shell wouldexplode. "

"We will prevent the explosion. "

"Not I, " said Athos, "for I must return to Blois. All this gildedelegance of the court, all these intrigues, sicken me. I am no longer ayoung man who can make terms with the meannesses of the day. I have readin the Great Book many things too beautiful and too comprehensive, tolonger take any interest in the trifling phrases which these men whisperamong themselves when they wish to deceive others. In one word, I amweary of Paris wherever and whenever you are not with me; and as Icannot have you with me always, I wish to return to Blois. "

"How wrong you are, Athos; how you gainsay your origin and the destinyof your noble nature. Men of your stamp are created to continue, to thevery last moment, in full possession of their great faculties. Look atmy sword, a Spanish blade, the one I wore at Rochelle; it served me forthirty years without fail; one day in the winter it fell upon the marblefloor on the Louvre and was broken. I had a hunting-knife made of itwhich will last a hundred years yet. You, Athos, with your loyalty, yourfrankness, your cool courage and your sound information, are the veryman kings need to warn and direct them. Remain here; Monsieur Fouquetwill not last as long as my Spanish blade. "

"Is it possible, " said Athos, smiling, "that my friend, D'Artagnan, who, after having raised me to the skies, making me an object of worship, casts me down from the top of Olympus, and hurls me to the ground?I have more exalted ambition, D'Artagnan. To be a minister--to be aslave, --never! Am I not still greater? I am nothing. I remember havingheard you occasionally call me 'the great Athos;' I defy you, therefore, if I were minister, to continue to bestow that title upon me. No, no; Ido not yield myself in this manner. "

"We will not speak of it any more, then; renounce everything, even thebrotherly feeling which unites us. "

"It is almost cruel what you say. "

D'Artagnan pressed Athos's hand warmly. "No, no; renounce everythingwithout fear. Raoul can get on without you. I am at Paris. "

"In that case I shall return to Blois. We will take leave of each otherto-night, to-morrow at daybreak I shall be on my horse again. "

"You cannot return to your hotel alone; why did you not bring Grimaudwith you?"

"Grimaud takes his rest now; he goes to bed early, for my poor oldservant gets easily fatigued. He came from Blois with me, and Icompelled him to remain within doors; for if, in retracing the fortyleagues which separate us from Blois, he needed to draw breath even, hewould die without a murmur. But I don't want to lose Grimaud. "

"You shall have one of my musketeers to carry a torch for you. Hola!some one there, " called out D'Artagnan, leaning over the gildedbalustrade. The heads of seven or eight musketeers appeared. "I wishsome gentleman who is so disposed to escort the Comte de la Fere, " criedD'Artagnan. 

"Thank you for your readiness, gentlemen, " said Athos; "I regret to haveoccasion to trouble you in this manner. "

"I would willingly escort the Comte de la Fere, " said some one, "if Ihad not to speak to Monsieur d'Artagnan. "

"Who is that?" said D'Artagnan, looking into the darkness. 

"I, Monsieur d'Artagnan. "

"Heaven forgive me, if that is not Monsieur Baisemeaux's voice. "

"It is, monsieur. "

"What are you doing in the courtyard, my dear Baisemeaux?"

"I am waiting your orders, my dear Monsieur d'Artagnan. "

"Wretch that I am, " thought D'Artagnan; "true, you have been told, I suppose, that some one was to be arrested, and have come yourself, instead of sending an officer?"

"I came because I had occasion to speak to you. "

"You did not send to me?"

"I waited until you were disengaged, " said Monsieur Baisemeaux, timidly. 

"I leave you, D'Artagnan, " said Athos. 

"Not before I have presented Monsieur Baisemeaux de Montlezun, thegovernor of the Bastile. "

Baisemeaux and Athos saluted each other. 

"Surely you must know each other, " said D'Artagnan. 

"I have an indistinct recollection of Monsieur Baisemeaux, " said Athos. 

"You remember, my dear, Baisemeaux, the king's guardsman with whom weused formerly to have such delightful meetings in the cardinal's time?"

"Perfectly, " said Athos, taking leave of him with affability. 

"Monsieur le Comte de la Fere, whose nom de guerre was Athos, " whisperedD'Artagnan to Baisemeaux. 

"Yes, yes, a brave man, one of the celebrated four. "

"Precisely so. But, my dear Baisemeaux, shall we talk now?"

"If you please. "

"In the first place, as for the orders--there are none. The king doesnot intend to arrest the person in question. "

"So much the worse, " said Baisemeaux with a sigh. 

"What do you mean by so much the worse?" exclaimed D'Artagnan, laughing. 

"No doubt of it, " returned the governor, "my prisoners are my income. "

"I beg your pardon, I did not see it in that light. "

"And so there are no orders, " repeated Baisemeaux with a sigh. "Whatan admirable situation yours is captain, " he continued, after a pause, "captain-lieutenant of the musketeers. "

"Oh, it is good enough; but I don't see why you should envy me; you, governor of the Bastile, the first castle in France. "

"I am well aware of that, " said Baisemeaux, in a sorrowful tone ofvoice. 

"You say that like a man confessing his sins. I would willingly exchangemy profits for yours. "

"Don't speak of profits to me if you wish to save me the bitterestanguish of mind. "

"Why do you look first on one side and then on the other, as if you wereafraid of being arrested yourself, you whose business it is to arrestothers?"

"I was looking to see whether any one could see or listen to us; itwould be safer to confer more in private, if you would grant me such afavor. "

"Baisemeaux, you seem to forget we are acquaintances of five and thirtyyears' standing. Don't assume such sanctified airs; make yourself quitecomfortable; I don't eat governors of the Bastile raw. "

"Heaven be praised!"

"Come into the courtyard with me, it's a beautiful moonlight night; wewill walk up and down arm in arm under the trees, while you tell me yourpitiful tale. " He drew the doleful governor into the courtyard, took himby the arm as he had said, and, in his rough, good-humored way, cried:"Out with it, rattle away, Baisemeaux; what have you got to say?"

"It's a long story. "

"You prefer your own lamentations, then; my opinion is, it will belonger than ever. I'll wager you are making fifty thousand francs out ofyour pigeons in the Bastile. "

"Would to heaven that were the case, M. D'Artagnan. "

"You surprise me, Baisemeaux; just look at you, acting the anchorite. I should like to show you your face in a glass, and you would see howplump and florid-looking you are, as fat and round as a cheese, witheyes like lighted coals; and if it were not for that ugly wrinkle youtry to cultivate on your forehead, you would hardly look fifty yearsold, and you are sixty, if I am not mistaken. "

"All quite true. "

"Of course I knew it was true, as true as the fifty thousand francsprofit you make, " at which remark Baisemeaux stamped on the ground. 

"Well, well, " said D'Artagnan, "I will add up your accounts for you: youwere captain of M. Mazarin's guards; and twelve thousand francs a yearwould in twelve years amount to one hundred and forty thousand francs. "

"Twelve thousand francs! Are you mad?" cried Baisemeaux; "the old misergave me no more than six thousand, and the expenses of the post amountedto six thousand five hundred francs. M. Colbert, who deducted the othersix thousand francs, condescended to allow me to take fifty pistolesas a gratification; so that, if it were not for my little estate atMontlezun, which brings me in twelve thousand francs a year, I could nothave met my engagements. "

"Well, then, how about the fifty thousand francs from the Bastile?There, I trust, you are boarded and lodged, and get your six thousandfrancs salary besides. "

"Admitted!"

"Whether the year be good or bad, there are fifty prisoners, who, on anaverage, bring you in a thousand francs a year each. "

"I don't deny it. "

"Well, there is at once an income of fifty thousand francs; you haveheld the post three years, and must have received in that time onehundred and fifty thousand francs. "

"You forget one circumstance, dear M. D'Artagnan. "

"What is that?"

"That while you received your appointment as captain from the kinghimself, I received mine as governor from Messieurs Tremblay andLouviere. "

"Quite right, and Tremblay was not a man to let you have the post fornothing. "

"Nor Louviere either: the result was, that I gave seventy-five thousandfrancs to Tremblay as his share. "

"Very agreeable that! and to Louviere?"

"The very same. "

"Money down?"

"No: that would have been impossible. The king did not wish, or ratherM. Mazarin did not wish, to have the appearance of removing thosetwo gentlemen, who had sprung from the barricades; he permitted themtherefore, to make certain extravagant conditions for their retirement. "

"What were those conditions?"

"Tremble. . . Three years' income for the good-will. "

"The deuce! so that the one hundred and fifty thousand francs havepassed into their hands. "

"Precisely so. "

"And beyond that?"

"A sum of one hundred and fifty thousand francs, or fifteen thousandpistoles, whichever you please, in three payments. "

"Exorbitant. "

"Yes, but that is not all. "

"What besides?"

"In default of the fulfillment by me of any one of those conditions, those gentlemen enter upon their functions again. The king has beeninduced to sign that. "

"It is monstrous, incredible!"

"Such is the fact, however. "

"I do indeed pity you, Baisemeaux. But why, in the name of fortune, didM. Mazarin grant you this pretended favor? It would have been far betterto have refused you altogether. "

"Certainly, but he was strongly persuaded to do so by my protector. "

"Who is he?"

"One of your own friends, indeed; M. D'Herblay. "

"M. D'Herblay! Aramis!"

"Just so; he has been very kind towards me. "

"Kind! to make you enter into such a bargain!"

"Listen! I wished to leave the cardinal's service. M. D'Herblay spoke onmy behalf to Louviere and Tremblay--they objected; I wished to have theappointment very much, for I knew what it could be made to produce;in my distress I confided in M. D'Herblay, and he offered to become mysurety for the different payments. "

"You astound me! Aramis become your surety?"

"Like a man of honor; he procured the signature; Tremblay and Louviereresigned their appointments, I have paid every year twenty-five thousandfrancs to these two gentlemen; on the thirty-first of May every year, M. D'Herblay himself comes to the Bastile, and brings me five thousandpistoles to distribute between my crocodiles. "

"You owe Aramis one hundred and fifty thousand francs, then?"

"That is the very thing which is the cause of my despair, for I only owehim one hundred thousand. "

"I don't quite understand you. "

"He came and settled with the vampires only two years. To-day, however, is the thirty-first of May, and he has not been yet, and to-morrow, atmidday, the payment falls due; if, therefore, I don't pay to-morrow, those gentlemen can, by the terms of the contract, break off thebargain; I shall be stripped of everything; I shall have worked forthree years, and given two hundred and fifty thousand francs fornothing, absolutely for nothing at all, dear M. D'Artagnan. "

"This is very strange, " murmured D'Artagnan. 

"You can now imagine that I may well have wrinkles on my forehead, canyou not?"

"Yes, indeed!"

"And you can imagine, too, that notwithstanding I may be as round as acheese, with a complexion like an apple, and my eyes like coals on fire, I may almost be afraid that I shall not have a cheese or an apple leftme to eat, and that my eyes will be left me only to weep with. "

"It is really a very grievous affair. "

"I have come to you, M. D'Artagnan, for you are the only man who can getme out of my trouble. "

"In what way?"

"You are acquainted with the Abbe d'Herblay and you know that he is asomewhat mysterious gentleman. "

"Yes. "

"Well, you can, perhaps, give me the address of his presbytery, for Ihave been to Noisy-le-Sec, and he is no longer there. "

"I should think not, indeed. He is Bishop of Vannes. "

"What! Vannes in Bretagne?"

"Yes. "

The little man began to tear his hair, saying, "How can I get to Vannesfrom here by midday to-morrow? I am a lost man. "

"Your despair quite distresses me. "

"Vannes, Vannes!" cried Baisemeaux. 

"But listen; a bishop is not always a resident. M. D'Herblay may notpossibly be so far away as you fear. "

"Pray tell me his address. "

"I really don't know it. "

"In that case I am lost. I will go and throw myself at the king's feet. "

"But, Baisemeaux, I can hardly believe what you tell me; besides, sincethe Bastile is capable of producing fifty thousand francs a year, whyhave you not tried to screw one hundred thousand out of it?"

"Because I am an honest man, M. D'Artagnan, and because my prisoners arefed like ambassadors. "

"Well, you're in a fair way to get out of your difficulties; giveyourself a good attack of indigestion with your excellent living, andput yourself out of the way between this and midday to-morrow. "

"How can you be hard-hearted enough to laugh?"

"Nay, you really afflict me. Come, Baisemeaux, if you can pledge me yourword of honor, do so, that you will not open your lips to any one aboutwhat I am going to say to you. "

"Never, never!"

"You wish to put your hand on Aramis?"

"At any cost!"

"Well, go and see where M. Fouquet is. "

"Why, what connection can there be----"

"How stupid you are! Don't you know that Vannes is in the diocese ofBelle-Isle, or Belle-Isle in the diocese of Vannes? Belle-Isle belongsto M. Fouquet, and M. Fouquet nominated M. D'Herblay to that bishopric!"

"I see, I see; you restore me to life again. "

"So much the better. Go and tell M. Fouquet very simply that you wish tospeak to M. D'Herblay. "

"Of course, of course, " exclaimed Baisemeaux, delightedly. 

"But, " said D'Artagnan, checking him by a severe look, "your word ofhonor?"

"I give you my sacred word of honor, " replied the little man, about toset off running. 

"Where are you going?"

"To M. Fouquet's house. "

"It is useless doing that, M. Fouquet is playing at cards with the king. All you can do is to pay M. Fouquet a visit early to-morrow morning. "

"I will do so. Thank you. "

"Good luck attend you, " said D'Artagnan. 

"Thank you. "

"This is a strange affair, " murmured D'Artagnan, as he slowly ascendedthe staircase after he had left Baisemeaux. "What possible interest canAramis have in obliging Baisemeaux in this manner? Well, I suppose weshall learn some day or another. "

CHAPTER 97. The King's Card-table

Fouquet was present, as D'Artagnan had said, at the king's card-table. It seemed as if Buckingham's departure had shed a balm on the laceratedhearts of the previous evening. Monsieur, radiant with delight, made athousand affectionate signs to his mother. The Count de Guiche could notseparate himself from Buckingham and while playing, conversed with himupon the circumstance of his projected voyage. Buckingham, thoughtful, and kind in his manner, like a man who has adopted a resolution, listened to the count, and from time to time cast a look full of regretand hopeless affection at Madame. The princess, in the midst of herelation of spirits, divided her attention between the king, who wasplaying with her, Monsieur, who quietly joked her about her enormouswinnings, and De Guiche, who exhibited an extravagant delight. OfBuckingham she took but little notice; for her, this fugitive, thisexile, was now simply a remembrance, no longer a man. Light hearts arethus constituted; while they themselves continue untouched, they roughlybreak off with every one who may possibly interfere with their littlecalculations of selfish comfort. Madame had received Buckingham's smilesand attentions and sighs while he was present; but what was the goodof sighing, smiling and kneeling at a distance? Can one tell in whatdirection the winds in the Channel, which toss mighty vessels to andfro, carry such sighs as these. The duke could not fail to mark thischange, and his heart was cruelly hurt. Of a sensitive character, proudand susceptible of deep attachment, he cursed the day on which such apassion had entered his heart. The looks he cast, from time to timeat Madame, became colder by degrees at the chilling complexion of histhoughts. He could hardly yet despair, but he was strong enough toimpose silence upon the tumultuous outcries of his heart. In exactproportion, however, as Madame suspected this change of feeling, sheredoubled her activity to regain the ray of light she was about to lose;her timid and indecisive mind was displayed in brilliant flashes ofwit and humor. At any cost she felt that she must be remarked aboveeverything and every one, even above the king himself. And she was so, for the queens, notwithstanding their dignity, and the king, despite therespect which etiquette required, were all eclipsed by her. The queens, stately and ceremonious, were softened and could not restrain theirlaughter. Madame Henrietta, the queen-mother, was dazzled by thebrilliancy which cast distinction upon her family, thanks to the wit ofthe grand-daughter of Henry IV. The king, jealous, as a young man andas a monarch, of the superiority of those who surrounded him, could notresist admitting himself vanquished by a petulance so thoroughly Frenchin its nature, whose energy was more than ever increased by Englishhumor. Like a child, he was captivated by her radiant beauty, which herwit made still more dazzling. Madame's eyes flashed like lightning. Witand humor escaped from her scarlet lips, like persuasion from the lipsof Nestor of old. The whole court, subdued by her enchanting grace, noticed for the first time that laughter could be indulged in before thegreatest monarch in the world, like people who merited their appellationof the wittiest and most polished people in Europe. 

Madame, from that evening, achieved and enjoyed a success capable ofbewildering all not born to those altitudes termed thrones; which, inspite of their elevation, are sheltered from such giddiness. From thatvery moment Louis XIV. Acknowledged Madame as a person to be recognized. Buckingham regarded her as a coquette deserving the cruelest tortures, and De Guiche looked upon her as a divinity; the courtiers as a starwhose light might some day become the focus of all favor and power. Andyet Louis XIV. , a few years previously, had not even condescended tooffer his hand to that "ugly girl" for a ballet; and Buckingham hadworshipped this coquette "on both knees. " De Guiche had once looked uponthis divinity as a mere woman; and the courtiers had not dared to extolthis star in her upward progress, fearful to disgust the monarch whomsuch a dull star had formerly displeased. 

Let us see what was taking place during this memorable evening at theking's card-table. The young queen, although Spanish by birth, and theniece of Anne of Austria, loved the king, and could not conceal heraffection. Anne of Austria, a keen observer, like all women, andimperious, like every queen, was sensible of Madame's power, andacquiesced in it immediately, a circumstance which induced the youngqueen to raise the siege and retire to her apartments. The king hardlypaid any attention to her departure, notwithstanding the pretendedsymptoms of indisposition by which it was accompanied. Encouraged by therules of etiquette, which he had begun to introduce at the court as anelement of every relation of life, Louis XIV. Did not disturb himself;he offered his hand to Madame without looking at Monsieur his brother, and led the young princess to the door of her apartments. It wasremarked that at the threshold of the door, his majesty, freed fromevery restraint, or not equal to the situation, sighed very deeply. The ladies present--for nothing escapes a woman's glance--MademoiselleMontalais, for instance--did not fail to say to each other, "the kingsighed, " and "Madame sighed too. " This had been indeed the case. Madamehad sighed very noiselessly, but with an accompaniment very far moredangerous for the king's repose. Madame had sighed, first closing herbeautiful black eyes, next opening them, and then, laden, as they were, with an indescribable mournfulness of expression, she had raised themtowards the king, whose face at that moment visibly heightened in color. The consequence of these blushes, of these interchanged sighs, and ofthis royal agitation, was, that Montalais had committed an indiscretionwhich had certainly affected her companion, for Mademoiselle de laValliere, less clear sighted, perhaps, turned pale when the kingblushed; and her attendance being required upon Madame, she tremblinglyfollowed the princess without thinking of taking the gloves, which courtetiquette required her to do. True it is that this young country girlmight allege as her excuse the agitation into which the king seemed tobe thrown, for Mademoiselle de la Valliere, busily engaged in closingthe door, had involuntarily fixed her eyes upon the king, who, as heretired backwards, had his face towards it. The king returned to theroom where the card-tables were set out. He wished to speak to thedifferent persons there, but it was easy to see that his mind wasabsent. He jumbled different accounts together, which was takenadvantage of by some of the noblemen who had retained those habits sincethe time of Monsieur Mazarin--who had a poor memory, but was a goodcalculator. In this way Monsieur Manicamp, with a thoughtless and absentair--for M. Manicamp was the honestest man in the world appropriatedtwenty thousand francs, which were littering the table, and whichdid not seem to belong to any person in particular. In the same way, Monsieur de Wardes, whose head was doubtless a little bewildered by theoccurrences of the evening, somehow forgot to leave behind him the sixtydouble louis which he had won for the Duke of Buckingham, and which theduke, incapable, like his father, of soiling his hands with coin of anysort, had left lying on the table before him. The king only recoveredhis attention in some degree at the moment that Monsieur Colbert, who had been narrowly observant for some minutes, approached, and, doubtless, with great respect, yet with much perseverance, whispered acounsel of some sort into the still tingling ears of the king. Theking, at the suggestion, listened with renewed attention and immediatelylooking around him, said, "Is Monsieur Fouquet no longer here?"

"Yes, sire, I am here, " replied the superintendent, till then engagedwith Buckingham, and approached the king, who advanced a step towardshim with a smiling yet negligent air. "Forgive me, " said Louis, "if Iinterrupt your conversation; but I claim your attention wherever I mayrequire your services. "

"I am always at the king's service, " replied Fouquet. 

"And your cash-box too, " said the king, laughing with a false smile. 

"My cash-box more than anything else, " said Fouquet, coldly. 

"The fact is, I wish to give a fete at Fontainebleau--to keep open housefor fifteen days, and I shall require----" and he stopped glancingat Colbert. Fouquet waited without showing discomposure; and the kingresumed, answering Colbert's icy smile, "four million francs. "

"Four million, " repeated Fouquet, bowing profoundly. And his nails, buried in his bosom, were thrust into his flesh, but the tranquilexpression of his face remained unaltered. "When will they be required, sire?"

"Take your time, --I mean--no, no, as soon as possible. "

"A certain time will be necessary, sire. "

"Time!" exclaimed Colbert, triumphantly. 

"The time, monsieur, " said the superintendent, with the haughtiestdisdain, "simply to count the money: a million can only be drawn andweighed in a day. "

"Four days then, " said Colbert. 

"My clerks, " replied Fouquet, addressing himself to the king, "willperform wonders on his majesty's service, and the sum shall be ready inthree days. "

It was for Colbert now to turn pale. Louis looked at him astonished. Fouquet withdrew without any parade or weakness, smiling at his numerousfriends, in whose countenances alone he read the sincerity of theirfriendship--an interest partaking of compassion. Fouquet, however, should not be judged by his smile, for, in reality he felt as if he hadbeen stricken by death. Drops of blood beneath his coat stained the finelinen that clothed his chest. His dress concealed the blood, and hissmile the rage which devoured him. His domestics perceived, by themanner in which he approached his carriage, that their master was not inthe best of humors: the result of their discernment was, that his orderswere executed with that exactitude of maneuver which is found on boarda man-of-war, commanded during a storm by an ill-tempered captain. Thecarriage, therefore, did not simply roll along--it flew. Fouquet hadhardly time to recover himself during the drive; on his arrival hewent at once to Aramis, who had not yet retired for the night. As forPorthos, he had supped very agreeably off a roast leg of mutton, twopheasants, and a perfect heap of cray-fish; he then directed his body tobe anointed with perfumed oils, in the manner of the wrestlers ofold; and when this anointment was completed, he had himself wrapped inflannels and placed in a warm bed. Aramis, as we have already said, had not retired. Seated at his ease in a velvet dressing-gown, he wroteletter after letter in that fine and hurried handwriting, a page ofwhich contained a quarter of a volume. The door was thrown hurriedlyopen, and the superintendent appeared, pale, agitated, anxious. Aramislooked up: "Good-evening, " said he, and his searching look detected hishost's sadness and disordered state of mind. "Was your play as good ashis majesty's?" asked Aramis, by way of beginning the conversation. 

Fouquet threw himself upon a couch, and then pointed to the door tothe servant who had followed him; when the servant had left he said, "Excellent. "

Aramis, who had followed every movement with his eyes, noticed that hestretched himself upon the cushions with a sort of feverish impatience. "You have lost as usual?" inquired Aramis, his pen still in his hand. 

"Even more than usual, " replied Fouquet. 

"You know how to support losses?"

"Sometimes. "

"What, Monsieur Fouquet a bad player!"

"There is play and play, Monsieur d'Herblay. "

"How much have you lost?" inquired Aramis, with a slight uneasiness. 

Fouquet collected himself a moment, and then, without the slightestemotion, said, "The evening has cost me four millions, " and a bitterlaugh drowned the last vibration of these words. 

Aramis, who did not expect such an amount, dropped his pen. "Fourmillions, " he said; "you have lost four millions, --impossible!"

"Monsieur Colbert held my cards for me, " replied the superintendent, with a similar bitter laugh. 

"Ah, now I understand; so, so, a new application for funds?"

"Yes, and from the king's own lips. It was impossible to ruin a man witha more charming smile. What do you think of it?"

"It is clear that your destruction is the object in view. "

"That is your opinion?"

"Still. Besides, there is nothing in it which should astonish you, forwe have foreseen it all along. "

"Yes; but I did not expect four millions. "

"No doubt the amount is serious, but, after all, four millions arenot quite the death of a man, especially when the man in question isMonsieur Fouquet. "

"My dear D'Herblay, if you knew the contents of my coffers, you would beless easy. "

"And you promised?"

"What could I do?"

"That's true. "

"The very day I refuse, Colbert will procure the money; whence I knownot, but he will procure it: and I shall be lost. "

"There is no doubt of that. In how many days did you promise these fourmillions?"

"In three days. The king seemed exceedingly pressed. "

"In three days?"

"When I think, " resumed Fouquet, "that just now as I passed along thestreets, the people cried out, 'There is the rich Monsieur Fouquet, ' itis enough to turn my brain. "

"Stay, monsieur, the matter is not worth so much trouble, " said Aramis, calmly, sprinkling some sand over the letter he had just written. 

"Suggest a remedy, then, for this evil without a remedy. "

"There is only one remedy for you, --pay. "

"But it is very uncertain whether I have the money. Everything must beexhausted; Belle-Isle is paid for; the pension has been paid; and money, since the investigation of the accounts of those who farm the revenue, is scarce. Besides, admitting that I pay this time, how can I do so onanother occasion? When kings have tasted money, they are like tigerswho have tasted flesh, they devour everything. The day will arrive--mustarrive--when I shall have to say, 'Impossible, sire, ' and on that veryday I am a lost man. "

Aramis raised his shoulders slightly, saying:

"A man in your position, my lord, is only lost when he wishes to be so. "

"A man, whatever his position may be, cannot hope to struggle against aking. "

"Nonsense; when I was young I wrestled successfully with the CardinalRichelieu, who was king of France, --nay more--cardinal. "

"Where are my armies, my troops, my treasures? I have not evenBelle-Isle. "

"Bah! necessity is the mother of invention, and when you think all islost, something will be discovered which will retrieve everything. "

"Who will discover this wonderful something?"

"Yourself. "

"I! I resign my office of inventor. "

"Then I will. "

"Be it so. But set to work without delay. "

"Oh! we have time enough!"

"You kill me, D'Herblay, with your calmness, " said the superintendent, passing his handkerchief over his face. 

"Do you not remember that I one day told you not to make yourselfuneasy, if you possessed courage? Have you any?"

"I believe so. "

"Then don't make yourself uneasy. "

"It is decided, then, that, at the last moment, you will come to myassistance. "

"It will only be the repayment of a debt I owe you. "

"It is the vocation of financiers to anticipate the wants of men such asyourself, D'Herblay. "

"If obligingness is the vocation of financiers, charity is the virtueof the clergy. Only, on this occasion, do you act, monsieur. You are notyet sufficiently reduced, and at the last moment we will see what is tobe done. "

"We shall see, then, in a very short time. "

"Very well. However, permit me to tell you that, personally, I regretexceedingly that you are at present so short of money, because I wasmyself about to ask you for some. "

"For yourself?"

"For myself, or some of my people, for mine or for ours. "

"How much do you want?"

"Be easy on that score; a roundish sum, it is true, but not tooexorbitant. "

"Tell me the amount. "

"Fifty thousand francs. "

"Oh! a mere nothing. Of course one has always fifty thousand francs. Why the deuce cannot that knave Colbert be as easily satisfied as youare--and I should give myself far less trouble than I do. When do youneed this sum?"

"To-morrow morning; but you wish to know its destination. "

"Nay, nay, chevalier, I need no explanation. "

"To-morrow is the first of June. "

"Well?"

"One of our bonds becomes due. "

"I did not know we had any bond. "

"Certainly, to-morrow we pay our last third instalment. "

"What third?"

"Of the one hundred and fifty thousand francs to Baisemeaux. "

"Baisemeaux? Who is he?"

"The governor of the Bastile. "

"Yes, I remember. On what grounds am I to pay one hundred and fiftythousand francs for that man?"

"On account of the appointment which he, or rather we, purchased fromLouviere and Tremblay. "

"I have a very vague recollection of the matter. "

"That is likely enough, for you have so many affairs to attend to. However, I do not believe you have any affair in the world of greaterimportance than this one. "

"Tell me, then, why we purchased this appointment. "

"Why, in order to render him a service in the first place, andafterwards ourselves. "

"Ourselves? You are joking. "

"Monseigneur, the time may come when the governor of the Bastile mayprove a very excellent acquaintance. "

"I have not the good fortune to understand you, D'Herblay. "

"Monseigneur, we had our own poets, our own engineer, our own architect, our own musicians, our own printer, and our own painters; we needed ourown governor of the Bastile. "

"Do you think so?"

"Let us not deceive ourselves, monseigneur; we are very much opposed topaying the Bastile a visit, " added the prelate, displaying, beneathhis pale lips, teeth which were still the same beautiful teeth so muchadmired thirty years previously by Marie Michon. 

"And you think it is not too much to pay one hundred and fifty thousandfrancs for that? I thought you generally put out money at betterinterest than that. "

"The day will come when you will admit your mistake. "

"My dear D'Herblay, the very day on which a man enters the Bastile, heis no longer protected by his past. "

"Yes, he is, if the bonds are perfectly regular; besides, that goodfellow Baisemeaux has not a courtier's heart. I am certain, my lord, that he will not remain ungrateful for that money, without taking intoaccount, I repeat, that I retain the acknowledgments. "

"It is a strange affair! usury in a matter of benevolence. "

"Do not mix yourself up with it, monseigneur; if there be usury, it isI who practice it, and both of us reap the advantage from it--that isall. "

"Some intrigue, D'Herblay?"

"I do not deny it. "

"And Baisemeaux an accomplice in it?"

"Why not?--there are worse accomplices than he. May I depend, then, uponthe five thousand pistoles to-morrow?"

"Do you want them this evening?"

"It would be better, for I wish to start early; poor Baisemeaux will notbe able to imagine what has become of me, and must be upon thorns. "

"You shall have the amount in an hour. Ah, D'Herblay, the interestof your one hundred and fifty thousand francs will never pay my fourmillions for me. "

"Why not, monseigneur. "

"Good-night, I have business to transact with my clerks before Iretire. "

"A good night's rest, monseigneur. "

"D'Herblay, you wish things that are impossible. "

"Shall I have my fifty thousand francs this evening?"

"Yes. "

"Go to sleep, then, in perfect safety--it is I who tell you to do so. "

Notwithstanding this assurance, and the tone in which it was given, Fouquet left the room shaking his head, and heaving a sigh. 

CHAPTER 98. M. Baisemeaux de Montlezun's Accounts

The clock of St. Paul was striking seven as Aramis, on horseback, dressed as a simple citizen, that is to say, in colored suit, with nodistinctive mark about him, except a kind of hunting-knife by his side, passed before the Rue du Petit-Muse, and stopped opposite the Rue desTourelles, at the gate of the Bastile. Two sentinels were on duty atthe gate; they made no difficulty about admitting Aramis, who enteredwithout dismounting, and they pointed out the way he was to go by along passage with buildings on both sides. This passage led to thedrawbridge, or, in other words, to the real entrance. The drawbridge wasdown, and the duty of the day was about being entered upon. The sentinelat the outer guardhouse stopped Aramis's further progress, asking him, in a rough tone of voice, what had brought him there. Aramis explained, with his usual politeness, that a wish to speak to M. Baisemeaux deMontlezun had occasioned his visit. The first sentinel then summoned asecond sentinel, stationed within an inner lodge, who showed his faceat the grating, and inspected the new arrival most attentively. Aramisreiterated the expression of his wish to see the governor, whereupon thesentinel called to an officer of lower grade, who was walking about in atolerably spacious courtyard and who, in turn, on being informed of hisobject, ran to seek one of the officers of the governor's staff. Thelatter, after having listened to Aramis's request, begged him to wait amoment, then went away a short distance, but returned to ask his name. "I cannot tell it you, monsieur, " said Aramis, "I need only mention thatI have matters of such importance to communicate to the governor, thatI can only rely beforehand upon one thing, that M. De Baisemeaux will bedelighted to see me; nay, more than that, when you have told him that itis the person whom he expected on the first of June, I am convinced hewill hasten here himself. " The officer could not possibly believe that aman of the governor's importance should put himself out for a person ofso little importance as the citizen-looking visitor on horseback. "Ithappens most fortunately, monsieur, " he said, "that the governor is justgoing out, and you can perceive his carriage with the horses alreadyharnessed, in the courtyard yonder; there will be no occasion for him tocome to meet you, as he will see you as he passes by. " Aramis bowed tosignify his assent; he did not wish to inspire others with too exaltedan opinion of himself, and therefore waited patiently and in silence, leaning upon the saddle-bow of his horse. Ten minutes had hardly elapsedwhen the governor's carriage was observed to move. The governor appearedat the door, and got into the carriage, which immediately prepared tostart. The same ceremony was observed for the governor himself as witha suspected stranger; the sentinel at the lodge advanced as thecarriage was about to pass under the arch, and the governor opened thecarriage-door, himself setting the example of obedience to orders;so that, in this way, the sentinel could convince himself that no onequitted the Bastile improperly. The carriage rolled along under thearchway, but at the moment the iron-gate was opened, the officerapproached the carriage, which had been again stopped, and saidsomething to the governor, who immediately put his head out ofthe door-way, and perceived Aramis on horseback at the end of thedrawbridge. He immediately uttered almost a shout of delight, and gotout, or rather darted out of his carriage, running towards Aramis, whosehands he seized, making a thousand apologies. He almost embraced him. "What a difficult matter to enter the Bastile!" said Aramis. "Is it thesame for those who are sent here against their wills, as for those whocome of their own accord?"

"A thousand pardons, my lord. How delighted I am to see your Grace!"

"Hush! What are you thinking of, my dear M. Baisemeaux? What do yousuppose would be thought of a bishop in my present costume?"

"Pray, excuse me, I had forgotten. Take this gentleman's horse to thestables, " cried Baisemeaux. 

"No, no, " said Aramis; "I have five thousand pistoles in thesaddle-bags. "

The governor's countenance became so radiant, that if the prisoners hadseen him they would have imagined some prince of the blood royal hadarrived. "Yes, you are right, the horse shall be taken to the governmenthouse. Will you get into the carriage, my dear M. D'Herblay? and itshall take us back to my house. "

"Get into a carriage to cross a courtyard! do you believe I am so greatan invalid? No, no, we will go on foot. "

Baisemeaux then offered his arm as a support, but the prelate didnot accept it. They arrived in this manner at the government house, Baisemeaux rubbing his hands and glancing at the horse from time totime, while Aramis was looking at the bleak bare walls. A tolerablyhandsome vestibule and a staircase of white stone led to the governor'sapartments, who crossed the ante-chamber, the dining-room, wherebreakfast was being prepared, opened a small side door, and closetedhimself with his guest in a large cabinet, the windows of which openedobliquely upon the courtyard and the stables. Baisemeaux installed theprelate with that all-inclusive politeness of which a good man, or agrateful man, alone possesses the secret. An arm-chair, a footstool, a small table beside him, on which to rest his hand, everything wasprepared by the governor himself. With his own hands, too, he placedupon the table, with much solicitude, the bag containing the gold, whichone of the soldiers had brought up with the most respectful devotion;and the soldier having left the room, Baisemeaux himself closed the doorafter him, drew aside one of the window-curtains, and looked steadfastlyat Aramis to see if the prelate required anything further. 

"Well, my lord, " he said, still standing up, "of all men of their word, you still continue to be the most punctual. "

"In matters of business, dear M. De Baisemeaux, exactitude is not avirtue only, it is a duty as well. "

"Yes, in matters of business, certainly; but what you have with me isnot of that character; it is a service you are rendering me. "

"Come, confess, dear M. De Baisemeaux, that, notwithstanding thisexactitude, you have not been without a little uneasiness. "

"About your health, I certainly have, " stammered out Baisemeaux. 

"I wished to come here yesterday, but I was not able, as I was toofatigued, " continued Aramis. Baisemeaux anxiously slipped anothercushion behind his guest's back. "But, " continued Aramis, "I promisedmyself to come and pay you a visit to-day, early in the morning. "

"You are really very kind, my lord. "

"And it was a good thing for me I was punctual, I think. "

"What do you mean?"

"Yes, you were going out. " At which latter remark Baisemeaux colored andsaid, "It is true I was going out. "

"Then I prevent you, " said Aramis; whereupon the embarrassment ofBaisemeaux became visibly greater. "I am putting you to inconvenience, "he continued, fixing a keen glance upon the poor governor; "if I hadknown that, I should not have come. "

"How can your lordship imagine that you could ever inconvenience me?"

"Confess you were going in search of money. "

"No, " stammered out Baisemeaux, "no! I assure you I was going to----"

"Does the governor still intend to go to M. Fouquet?" suddenly calledout the major from below. Baisemeaux ran to the window like a madman. "No, no, " he exclaimed in a state of desperation, "who the deuce isspeaking of M. Fouquet? are you drunk below there? why an I interruptedwhen I am engaged on business?"

"You were going to M. Fouquet's, " said Aramis biting his lips, "to M. Fouquet, the abbe, or the superintendent?"

Baisemeaux almost made up his mind to tell an untruth, but he could notsummon courage to do so. "To the superintendent, " he said. 

"It is true, then, that you were in want of money, since you were goingto a person who gives it away!"

"I assure you, my lord----"

"You were afraid?"

"My dear lord, it was the uncertainty and ignorance in which I was as towhere you were to be found. "

"You would have found the money you require at M. Fouquet's, for he is aman whose hand is always open. "

"I swear that I should never have ventured to ask M. Fouquet for money. I only wished to ask him for your address. "

"To ask M. Fouquet for my address?" exclaimed Aramis, opening his eyesin real astonishment. 

"Yes, " said Baisemeaux, greatly disturbed by the glance which theprelate fixed upon him, --"at M. Fouquet's certainly. "

"There is no harm in that, dear M. Baisemeaux, only I would ask, why askmy address of M. Fouquet?"

"That I might write to you. "

"I understand, " said Aramis, smiling, "but that is not what I meant;I do not ask you what you required my address for; I only ask why youshould go to M. Fouquet for it?"

"Oh!" said Baisemeaux, "as Belle-Isle is the property of M. Fouquet, and as Belle-Isle is in the diocese of Vannes, and as you are bishop ofVannes----"

"But, my dear Baisemeaux, since you knew I was bishop of Vannes, you hadno occasion to ask M. Fouquet for my address. "

"Well, monsieur, " said Baisemeaux, completely at bay, "if I have actedindiscreetly, I beg your pardon most sincerely. "

"Nonsense, " observed Aramis, calmly: "how can you possibly have actedindiscreetly?" And while he composed his face, and continued to smilecheerfully on the governor, he was considering how Baisemeaux, who wasnot aware of his address, knew, however, that Vannes was his residence. "I shall clear all this up, " he said to himself, and then speakingaloud, added, --"Well, my dear governor, shall we now arrange our littleaccounts?"

"I am at your orders, my lord; but tell me beforehand, my lord, whetheryou will do me the honor to breakfast with me as usual?"

"Very willingly, indeed. "

"Thai's well, " said Baisemeaux, as he struck the bell before him threetimes. 

"What does that mean?" inquired Aramis. 

"That I have some one to breakfast with me, and that preparations are tobe made accordingly. "

"And you rang thrice. Really, my dear governor, I begin to think you areacting ceremoniously with me. "

"No, indeed. Besides, the least I can do is to receive you in the bestway I can. "

"But why so?"

"Because not even a prince could have done what you have done for me. "

"Nonsense! nonsense!"

"Nay, I assure you----"

"Let us speak of other matters, " said Aramis. "Or rather, tell me howyour affairs here are getting on. "

"Not over well. "

"The deuce!"

"M. De Mazarin was not hard enough. "

"Yes, I see; you require a government full of suspicion--like that ofthe old cardinal, for instance. "

"Yes; matters went on better under him. The brother of his 'grayeminence' made his fortune here. "

"Believe me, my dear governor, " said Aramis, drawing closer toBaisemeaux, "a young king is well worth an old cardinal. Youth hasits suspicions, its fits of anger, its prejudices, as old age has itshatreds, its precautions, and its fears. Have you paid your three years'profits to Louviere and Tremblay?"

"Most certainly I have. "

"So that you have nothing more to give them than the fifty thousandfrancs I have brought with me?"

"Nothing. "

"Have you not saved anything, then?"

"My lord, in giving the fifty thousand francs of my own to thesegentlemen, I assure you that I give them everything I gain. I told M. D'Artagnan so yesterday evening. "

"Ah!" said Aramis, whose eyes sparkled for a moment, but becameimmediately afterwards as unmoved as before; "so you have seen my oldfriend D'Artagnan; how was he?"

"Wonderfully well. "

"And what did you say to him, M. De Baisemeaux?"

"I told him, " continued the governor, not perceiving his ownthoughtlessness, "I told him that I fed my prisoners too well. "

"How many have you?" inquired Aramis, in an indifferent tone of voice. 

"Sixty. "

"Well, that is a tolerably round number. "

"In former times, my lord, there were, during certain years, as many astwo hundred. "

"Still a minimum of sixty is not to be grumbled at. "

"Perhaps not; for, to anybody but myself, each prisoner would bring intwo hundred and fifty pistoles; for instance, for a prince of the bloodI have fifty francs a day. "

"Only you have no prince of the blood; at least, I suppose so, " saidAramis, with a slight tremor in his voice. 

"No, thank Heaven!--I mean, no, unfortunately. "

"What do you mean by unfortunately?"

"Because my appointment would be improved by it. So, fifty francs perday for a prince of the blood, thirty-six for a marechal of France----"

"But you have as many marechals of France, I suppose, as you haveprinces of the blood?"

"Alas! no more. It is true lieutenant-generals and brigadiers paytwenty-six francs, and I have two of them. After that, come councilorsof parliament, who bring me fifteen francs, and I have six of them. "

"I did not know, " said Aramis, "that councilors were so productive. "

"Yes, but from fifteen francs I sink at once to ten francs; namely, foran ordinary judge, and for an ecclesiastic. "

"And you have seven, you say; an excellent affair. "

"Nay, a bad one, and for this reason. How can I possibly treat thesepoor fellows, who are of some good, at all events, otherwise than as acouncilor of parliament?"

"Yes, you are right; I do not see five francs difference between them. "

"You understand; if I have a fine fish, I pay four or five francs forit; if I get a fine fowl, it costs me a franc and a half. I fatten agood deal of poultry, but I have to buy grain, and you cannot imaginethe army of rats that infest this place. "

"Why not get half a dozen cats to deal with them?"

"Cats, indeed; yes, they eat them, but I was obliged to give up the ideabecause of the way in which they treated my grain. I have been obligedto have some terrier dogs sent me from England to kill the rats. Thesedogs, unfortunately, have tremendous appetites; they eat as much as aprisoner of the fifth order, without taking into account the rabbits andfowls they kill. "

Was Aramis really listening or not? No one could have told; his downcasteyes showed the attentive man; but the restless hand betrayed the manabsorbed in thought--Aramis was meditating. 

"I was saying, " continued Baisemeaux, "that a good-sized fowl costs mea franc and a half, and that a fine fish costs me four or five francs. Three meals are served at the Bastile, and, as the prisoners, havingnothing to do, are always eating, a ten-franc man costs me seven francsand a half. "

"But did you not say that you treated those at ten francs like those atfifteen?"

"Yes, certainly. "

"Very well! Then you gain seven francs and a half upon those who pay youfifteen francs. "

"I must compensate myself somehow, " said Baisemeaux, who saw how he hadbeen snapped up. 

"You are quite right, my dear governor; but have you no prisoners belowten francs?"

"Oh, yes! we have citizens and barristers at five francs. 

"And do they eat, too?"

"Not a doubt about it; only you understand that they do not get fish orpoultry, nor rich wines at every meal; but at all events thrice a weekthey have a good dish at their dinner. "

"Really, you are quite a philanthropist, my dear governor, and you willruin yourself. "

"No, understand me; when the fifteen-franc has not eaten his fowl, orthe ten-franc has left his dish unfinished, I send it to the five-francprisoner; it is a feast for the poor devil, and one must be charitable, you know. "

"And what do you make out of your five-franc prisoners?"

"A franc and a half. "

"Baisemeaux, you're an honest fellow; in honest truth I say so. "

"Thank you, my lord. But I feel most for the small tradesmen andbailiffs' clerks, who are rated at three francs. They do not often seeRhine carp or Channel sturgeon. "

"But do not the five-franc gentlemen sometimes leave some scraps?"

"Oh! my lord, do not believe I am so stingy as that; I delight the heartof some poor little tradesman or clerk by sending him a wing of a redpartridge, a slice of venison, or a slice of a truffled pasty, disheswhich he never tasted except in his dreams; these are the leavings ofthe twenty-four franc prisoners; and as he eats and drinks, at desserthe cries 'Long live the King, ' and blesses the Bastile; with a coupleof bottles of champagne, which cost me five sous, I made him tipsy everySunday. That class of people call down blessings upon me, and are sorryto leave the prison. Do you know that I have remarked, and it does meinfinite honor, that certain prisoners, who have been set at liberty, have, almost immediately afterwards, got imprisoned again? Why shouldthis be the case, unless it be to enjoy the pleasures of my kitchen? Itis really the fact. "

Aramis smiled with an expression of incredulity. 

"You smile, " said Baisemeaux. 

"I do, " returned Aramis. 

"I tell you that we have names which have been inscribed on our booksthrice in the space of two years. "

"I must see it before I believe it, " said Aramis. 

"Well, I can show it to you, although it is prohibited to communicatethe registers to strangers; and if you really wish to see it with yourown eyes----"

"I should be delighted, I confess. "

"Very well, " said Baisemeaux, and he took out of a cupboard a largeregister. Aramis followed him most anxiously with his eyes, andBaisemeaux returned, placed the register upon the table, and turned overthe leaves for a minute, and stayed at the letter M. 

"Look here, " said he, "Martinier, January, 1659; Martinier, June, 1660;Martinier, March, 1661. Mazarinades, etc. ; you understand it was onlya pretext; people were not sent to the Bastile for jokes against M. Mazarin; the fellow denounced himself in order to get imprisoned here. "

"And what was his object?"

"None other than to return to my kitchen at three francs a day. "

"Three francs--poor devil!"

"The poet, my lord, belongs to the lowest scale, the same style of boardas the small tradesman and bailiff's clerk; but I repeat, it is to thosepeople only that I give these little surprises. "

Aramis mechanically turned over the leaves of the register, continuingto read the names, but without appearing to take any interest in thenames he read. 

"In 1661, you perceive, " said Baisemeaux, "eighty entries; and in 1659, eighty also. "

"Ah!" said Aramis. "Seldon; I seem to know that name. Was it not you whospoke to me about a certain young man?"

"Yes, a poor devil of a student, who made--What do you call that wheretwo Latin verses rhyme together?"

"A distich. "

"Yes; that is it. "

"Poor fellow; for a distich. "

"Do you know that he made this distich against the Jesuits?"

"That makes no difference; the punishment seems very severe. "

"Do not pity him; last year you seemed to interest yourself in him. "

"Yes, I did so. "

"Well, as your interest is all-powerful here, my lord, I have treatedhim since that time as a prisoner at fifteen francs. "

"The same as this one, then, " said Aramis, who had continued turningover the leaves, and who had stopped at one of the names which followedMartinier. 

"Yes, the same as that one. "

"Is that Marchiali an Italian?" said Aramis, pointing with his finger tothe name which had attracted his attention. 

"Hush!" said Baisemeaux. 

"Why hush?" said Aramis, involuntarily clenching his white hand. 

"I thought I had already spoken to you about that Marchiali. "

"No, it is the first time I ever heard his name pronounced. "

"That may be, but perhaps I have spoken to you about him without naminghim. "

"Is he an old offender?" asked Aramis, attempting to smile. 

"On the contrary, he is quite young. "

"Is his crime, then, very heinous?"

"Unpardonable. "

"Has he assassinated any one?"

"Bah!"

"An incendiary, then?"

"Bah!"

"Has he slandered any one?"

"No, no! It is he who--" and Baisemeaux approached Aramis's ear, making a sort of ear-trumpet of his hands, and whispered: "It is he whopresumes to resemble the----"

"Yes, yes. " said Aramis, "I now remember you already spoke about it lastyear to me; but the crime appeared to me so slight. 

"Slight, do you say?"

"Or rather, so involuntary. "

"My lord, it is not involuntarily that such a resemblance is detected. "

"Well, the fact is, I had forgotten it. But, my dear host, " said Aramis, closing the register, "if I am not mistaken, we are summoned. "

Baisemeaux took the register, hastily restored it to its place in thecloset, which he locked, and put the key in his pocket. "Will it beagreeable to your lordship to breakfast now?" said he; "for you areright in supposing that breakfast was announced. "

"Assuredly, my dear governor, " and they passed into the dining-room. 

CHAPTER 99. The Breakfast at Monsieur de Baisemeaux's

Aramis was generally temperate; but on this occasion, while takingevery care of his constitution, he did ample justice to Baisemeaux'sbreakfast, which, in all respects, was most excellent. The latter, onhis side, was animated with the wildest gayety; the sight of the fivethousand pistoles, which he glanced at from time to time, seemed to openhis heart. Every now and then he looked at Aramis with an expression ofthe deepest gratitude; while the latter, leaning back in his chair, tooka few sips of wine from his glass, with the air of a connoisseur. "Letme never hear any ill words against the fare of the Bastile, " said he, half closing his eyes; "happy are the prisoners who can get only half abottle of such Burgundy every day. "

"All those at fifteen francs drink it, " said Baisemeaux. "It is very oldVolnay. "

"Does that poor student, Seldon, drink such good wine?"

"Oh, no!"

"I thought I heard you say he was boarded at fifteen francs. "

"He! no, indeed; a man who makes districts--distichs, I mean--at fifteenfrancs! No, no! it is his neighbor who is at fifteen francs. "

"Which neighbor?"

"The other, second Bertaudiere. "

"Excuse me, my dear governor; but you speak a language which requiresquite an apprenticeship to understand. "

"Very true, " said the governor. "Allow me to explain: second Bertaudiereis the person who occupies the second floor of the tower of theBertaudiere. "

"So that Bertaudiere is the name of one of the towers of the Bastile?The fact is, I think I recollect hearing that each tower has a name ofits own. Whereabouts is the one you are speaking of?"

"Look, " said Baisemeaux, going to the window. "It is that tower to theleft---the second one. "

"Is the prisoner at fifteen francs there?"

"Yes. "

"Since when?"

"Seven or eight years, nearly. "

"What do you mean by nearly? Do you not know the dates more precisely?"

"It was not in my time, M. D'Herblay. "

"But I should have thought that Louviere or Tremblay would have toldyou. "

"The secrets of the Bastile are never handed over with the keys of thegovernorship. "

"Indeed! Then the cause of his imprisonment is a mystery--a statesecret. "

"Oh no! I do not suppose it is a state secret, but a secret--likeeverything else that happens at the Bastile. "

"But, " said Aramis, "why do you speak more freely of Seldon than ofsecond Bertaudiere?"

"Because, in my opinion, the crime of the man who writes a distich isnot so great as that of the man who resembles----"

"Yes, yes, I understand you. Still, do not the turnkeys talk with yourprisoners?"

"Of course. "

"The prisoners, I suppose, tell them they are not guilty?"

"They are always telling them that; it is a matter of course; the samesong over and over again. "

"But does not the resemblance you were speaking about just now strikethe turnkeys?"

"My dear M. D'Herblay, it is only for men attached to the court, as youare, to take trouble about such matters. "

"You're right, you're right, my dear M. Baisemeaux. Let me give youanother taste of this Volnay. "

"Not a taste merely, a full glass; fill yours too. "

"Nay, nay! You are a musketeer still, to the very tips of your fingers, while I have become a bishop. A taste for me; a glass for yourself. "

"As you please. " And Aramis and the governor nodded to each other, asthey drank their wine. "But, " said Aramis, looking with fixed attentionat the ruby-colored wine he had raised to the level of his eyes, as ifhe wished to enjoy it with all his senses at the same moment, "butwhat you might call a resemblance, another would not, perhaps, take anynotice of. "

"Most certainly he would, though, if it were any one who knew the personhe resembles. "

"I really think, dear M. Baisemeaux, that it can be nothing more than aresemblance of your own creation. "

"Upon my honor, it is not so. "

"Stay, " continued Aramis, "I have seen many persons very like the onewe are speaking of; but, out of respect, no one ever said anything aboutit. "

"Very likely; because there is resemblance and resemblance. This is astriking one, and, if you were to see him, you would admit it to be so. "

"If I were to see him, indeed, " said Aramis, in an indifferent tone;"but in all probability I never shall. "

"Why not?"

"Because if I were even to put my foot inside one of those horribledungeons, I should fancy I was buried there forever. "

"No, no; the cells are very good places to live in. "

"I really do not, and cannot believe it, and that is a fact. "

"Pray do not speak ill of second Bertaudiere. It is really a good room, very nicely furnished and carpeted. The young fellow has by no meansbeen unhappy there; the best lodging the Bastile affords has been his. There is a chance for you. "

"Nay, nay, " said Aramis, coldly; "you will never make me believe thereare any good rooms in the Bastile; and, as for your carpets, they existonly in your imagination. I should find nothing but spiders, rats, andperhaps toads, too. "

"Toads?" cried Baisemeaux. 

"Yes, in the dungeons. "

"Ah! I don't say there are not toads in the dungeons, " repliedBaisemeaux. "But--will you be convinced by your own eyes?" he continued, with a sudden impulse. 

"No, certainly not. "

"Not even to satisfy yourself of the resemblance which you deny, as youdo the carpets?"

"Some spectral-looking person, a mere shadow; an unhappy, dying man. "

"Nothing of the kind--as brisk and vigorous a young fellow as everlived. "

"Melancholy and ill-tempered, then?"

"Not at all; very gay and lively. "

"Nonsense; you are joking. "

"Will you follow me?" said Baisemeaux. 

"What for?"

"To go the round of the Bastile. "

"Why?"

"You will then see for yourself--see with your own eyes. "

"But the regulations?"

"Never mind them. To-day my major has leave of absence; the lieutenantis visiting the post on the bastions; we are sole masters of thesituation. "

"No, no, my dear governor; why, the very idea of the sound of the boltsmakes me shudder. You will only have to forget me in second or fourthBertaudiere, and then----"

"You are refusing an opportunity that may never present itself again. Doyou know that, to obtain the favor I propose to you gratis, some of theprinces of the blood have offered me as much as fifty thousand francs. "

"Really! he must be worth seeing, then?"

"Forbidden fruit, my lord, forbidden fruit. You who belong to the churchought to know that. "

"Well, if I had any curiosity, it would be to see the poor author of thedistich. "

"Very well, we will see him, too; but if I were at all curious, it wouldbe about the beautiful carpeted room and its lodger. "

"Furniture is very commonplace; and a face with no expression in itoffers little or no interest. "

"But a boarder at fifteen francs is always interesting. "

"By the by, I forgot to ask you about that. Why fifteen francs for him, and only three francs for poor Seldon?"

"The distinction made in that instance was a truly noble act, and onewhich displayed the king's goodness of heart to great advantage. "

"The king's, you say. "

"The cardinal's, I mean. 'This unhappy man, ' said M. Mazarin, 'isdestined to remain in prison forever. '"

"Why so?"

"Why, it seems that his crime is a lasting one, and, consequently, hispunishment ought to be so, too. "

"Lasting?"

"No doubt of it, unless he is fortunate enough to catch the small-pox, and even that is difficult, for we never get any impure air here. "

"Nothing can be more ingenious than your train of reasoning, my dear M. De Baisemeaux. Do you, however, mean to say that this unfortunate manmust suffer without interruption or termination?"

"I did not say he was to suffer, my lord, a fifteen-franc boarder doesnot suffer. "

"He suffers imprisonment, at all events. "

"No doubt; there is no help for that, but this suffering is sweetenedfor him. You must admit that this young fellow was not born to eat allthe good things he does eat; for instance, such things as we have on thetable now; this pasty that has not been touched, these crawfish from theRiver Marne, of which we have hardly taken any, and which are almostas large as lobsters; all these things will at once be taken to secondBertaudiere, with a bottle of that Volnay which you think so excellent. After you have seen it you will believe it, I hope. "

"Yes, my dear governor, certainly; but all this time you are thinkingonly of your very happy fifteen-franc prisoner, and you forget poorSeldon, my protege. "

"Well, out of consideration for you, it shall be a gala day for him; heshall have some biscuits and preserves with this small bottle of port. "

"You are a good-hearted fellow; I have said so already, and I repeat it, my dear Baisemeaux. "

"Well, let us set off, then, " said the governor, a little bewildered, partly from the wine he had drunk, and partly from Aramis's praises. 

"Do not forget that I only go to oblige you, " said the prelate. 

"Very well; but you will thank me when you get there. "

"Let us go, then. "

"Wait until I have summoned the jailer, " said Baisemeaux, as he struckthe bell twice, at which summons a man appeared. "I am going to visitthe towers, " said the governor. "No guards, no drums, no noise at all. "

"If I were not to leave my cloak here, " said Aramis, pretending tobe alarmed; "I should really think I was going to prison on my ownaccount. "

The jailer preceded the governor, Aramis walking on his right hand; someof the soldiers who happened to be in the courtyard drew themselves upin line, as stiff as posts, as the governor passed along. Baisemeauxled the way down several steps which conducted to a sort of esplanade;thence they arrived at the draw-bridge, where the sentinels on dutyreceived the governor with the proper honors. The governor turned towardAramis, and, speaking in such a tone that the sentinels could not lose aword, he observed, --"I hope you have a good memory, monsieur?"

"Why?" inquired Aramis. 

"On account of your plans and your measurements, for you know that noone is allowed, not architects even, to enter where the prisoners are, with paper, pens or pencil. "

"Good, " said Aramis to himself, "it seems I am an architect, then. Itsounds like one of D'Artagnan's jokes, who perceived in me the engineerof Belle-Isle. " Then he added aloud: "Be easy on that score, monsieur; in our profession, a mere glance and a good memory are quitesufficient. "

Baisemeaux did not change countenance, and the soldiers took Aramis forwhat he seemed to be. "Very well; we will first visit la Bertaudiere, "said Baisemeaux, still intending the sentinels to hear him. Then, turning to the jailer, he added: "You will take the opportunity ofcarrying to No. 2 the few dainties I pointed out. "

"Dear M. De Baisemeaux, " said Aramis, "you are always forgetting No. 3. "

"So I am, " said the governor; and upon that, they began to ascend. Thenumber of bolts, gratings, and locks for this single courtyard wouldhave sufficed for the safety of an entire city. Aramis was neither animaginative nor a sensitive man; he had been somewhat of a poet in hisyouth, but his heart was hard and indifferent, as the heart of every manof fifty-five years of age is, who has been frequently and passionatelyattached to women in his lifetime, or rather who has been passionatelyloved by them. But when he placed his foot upon the worn stone steps, along which so many unhappy wretches had passed, when he felt himselfimpregnated, as it were, with the atmosphere of those gloomy dungeons, moistened with tears, there could be but little doubt he was overcomeby his feelings, for his head was bowed and his eyes became dim, as hefollowed Baisemeaux without a syllable. 

CHAPTER 100. The Second Floor of la Bertaudiere

On the second flight of stairs, whether from fatigue or emotion, thebreathing of the visitor began to fail him, and he leaned against thewall. "Will you begin with this one?" said Baisemeaux; "for since we aregoing to both, it matters very little whether we ascend from the secondto the third story, or descend from the third to the second. "

"No, no, " exclaimed Aramis, eagerly, "higher, if you please; the oneabove is the more urgent. " They continued their ascent. "Ask the jailerfor the keys, " whispered Aramis. Baisemeaux did so, took the keys, and, himself, opened the door of the third room. The jailer was the first toenter; he placed upon the table the provisions, which the kind-heartedgovernor called dainties, and then left the room. The prisoner hadnot stirred; Baisemeaux then entered, while Aramis remained at thethreshold, from which place he saw a youth about eighteen years of age, who, raising his head at the unusual noise, jumped off the bed, as heperceived the governor, and clasping his hands together, began to cryout, "My mother, my mother, " in tones which betrayed such deep distressthat Aramis, despite his command over himself, felt a shudder passthrough his frame. "My dear boy, " said Baisemeaux, endeavoring to smile, "I have brought you a diversion and an extra, --the one for the mind, theother for the body; this gentleman has come to take your measure, andhere are some preserves for your dessert. "

"Oh, monsieur, " exclaimed the young man, "keep me in solitude for ayear, let me have nothing but bread and water for a year, but tell methat at the end of a year I shall leave this place, tell me that at theend of a year I shall see my mother again. "

"But I have heard you say that your mother was very poor, and that youwere very badly lodged when you were living with her, while here--uponmy word!"

"If she were poor, monsieur, the greater reason to restore her onlymeans of support to her. Badly lodged with her! Oh, monsieur, every oneis always well lodged when he is free. "

"At all events, since you yourself admit you have done nothing but writethat unhappy distich----"

"But without any intention, I swear. Let me be punished--cut off thehand which wrote it, I will work with the other--but restore my motherto me. "

"My boy, " said Baisemeaux, "you know very well that it does not dependupon me; all I can do for you is to increase your rations, give you aglass of port wine now and then, slip in a biscuit for you between acouple of plates. "

"Great heaven!" exclaimed the young man, falling backward and rolling onthe ground. 

Aramis, unable to bear this scene any longer, withdrew as far as thelanding. "Unhappy, wretched man, " he murmured. 

"Yes, monsieur, he is indeed very wretched, " said the jailer; "but it ishis parents' fault. 

"In what way?"

"No doubt. Why did they let him learn Latin? Too much knowledge, yousee; it is that which does harm. Now I, for instance, can't read orwrite, and therefore I am not in prison. " Aramis looked at the man, who seemed to think that being a jailer in the Bastile was not being inprison. As for Baisemeaux, noticing the little effect produced by hisadvice and his port wine, he left the dungeon quite upset. "You haveforgotten to close the door, " said the jailer. 

"So I have, " said Baisemeaux, "there are the keys, do you do it. "

"I will solicit the pardon of that poor boy, " said Aramis. 

"And if you do not succeed, " said Baisemeaux, "at least beg that he maybe transferred to the ten-franc list, by which both he and I shall begainers. "

"If the other prisoner calls out for his mother in a similar manner, "said Aramis, "I prefer not to enter at all, but will take my measurefrom outside. "

"No fear of that, monsieur architect, the one we are now going to see isas gentle as a lamb; before he could call after his mother he must openhis lips, and he never says a word. "

"Let us go in, then, " said Aramis, gloomily. 

"Are you the architect of the prisons, monsieur?" said the jailer. 

"I am. "

"It is odd, then, that you are not more accustomed to all this. "

Aramis perceived that, to avoid giving rise to any suspicions he mustsummon all his strength of mind to his assistance. Baisemeaux, whocarried the keys, opened the door. "Stay outside, " he said to thejailer, "and wait for us at the bottom of the steps. " The jailer obeyedand withdrew. 

Baisemeaux entered first and opened the second door himself. By thelight which filtered through the iron-barred window, could be seen ahandsome young man, short in stature, with closely cut hair, and a beardbeginning to grow; he was sitting on a stool, his elbow resting on anarmchair, and all the upper part of his body reclining against it. Hisdress, thrown upon the bed, was of rich black velvet, and he inhaledthe fresh air which blew in upon his breast through a shirt of the veryfinest cambric. As the governor entered, the young man turned his headwith a look full of indifference; and on recognizing Baisemeaux, hearose and saluted him courteously. But when his eyes fell upon Aramis, who remained in the background, the latter trembled, turned pale, andhis hat, which he held in his hand, fell upon the ground, as if allhis muscles had become relaxed at once. Baisemeaux, habituated to thepresence of his prisoner, did not seem to share any of the sensationswhich Aramis experienced, but, with all the zeal of a good servant, hebusied himself in arranging on the table the pasty and crawfish hehad brought with him. Occupied in this manner, he did not remark howdisturbed his guest had become. When he had finished, however, he turnedto the young prisoner and said: "You are looking very well, --are youso?"

"Quite well, I thank you, monsieur, " replied the young man. 

The effect of the voice was such as almost to overpower Aramis, andnotwithstanding his control over himself, he advanced a few stepstowards him, with his eyes wide open and his lips trembling. Themovement he made was so marked that Baisemeaux, notwithstanding hispreoccupation, observed it. "This gentleman is an architect who has cometo examine your chimney, " said Baisemeaux, "does it smoke?"

"Never, monsieur. "

"You were saying just now, " said the governor, rubbing his handstogether, "that it was not possible for a man to be happy in prison;here, however, is one who is so. You have nothing to complain of, Ihope?"

"Nothing. "

"Do you ever feel weary?" said Aramis. 

"Never. "

"Ha, ha, " said Baisemeaux, in a low tone of voice; "was I right?"

"Well, my dear governor, it is impossible not to yield to evidence. Isit allowed to put any question to him?"

"As many as you like. "

"Very well; be good enough to ask him if he knows why he is here. "

"This gentleman requests me to ask you, " said Baisemeaux, "if you areaware of the cause of your imprisonment?"

"No, monsieur, " said the young man, unaffectedly, "I am not. "

"That is hardly possible, " said Aramis, carried away by his feelingsin spite of himself; "if you were really ignorant of the cause of yourdetention, you would be furious. "

"I was so during the early days of my imprisonment. "

"Why are you not so now?"

"Because I have reflected. "

"That is strange, " said Aramis. 

"Is it not odd?" said Baisemeaux. 

"May one venture to ask you, monsieur, on what you have reflected?"

"I felt that as I had committed no crime, Heaven could not punish me. "

"What is a prison, then, " inquired Aramis, "if it be not a punishment?"

"Alas! I cannot tell, " said the young man; "all that I can tell you nowis the very opposite of what I felt seven years ago. "

"To hear you converse, to witness your resignation, one might almostbelieve that you liked your imprisonment?"

"I endure it. 

"In the certainty of recovering your freedom some day, I suppose?"

"I have no certainty; hope I have, and that is all; and yet Iacknowledge that this hope becomes less every day. "

"Still, why should you not again be free, since you have already beenso?"

"That is precisely the reason, " replied the young man, "which preventsme expecting liberty; why should I have been imprisoned at all if it hadbeen intended to release me afterwards?"

"How old are you?"

"I do not know. "

"What is your name?"

"I have forgotten the name by which I was called. "

"Who are your parents?"

"I never knew them. "

"But those who brought you up?"

"They did not call me their son. "

"Did you ever love any one before coming here?"

"I loved my nurse, and my flowers. "

"Was that all?"

"I also loved my valet. "

"Do you regret your nurse and your valet?"

"I wept very much when they died. "

"Did they die since you have been here, or before you came?"

"They died the evening before I was carried off. "

"Both at the same time?"

"Yes, both at the same time. "

"In what manner were you carried off?"

"A man came for me, directed me to get into a carriage, which was closedand locked, and brought me here. "

"Would you be able to recognize that man again?"

"He was masked. "

"Is not this an extraordinary tale?" said Baisemeaux, in a low tone ofvoice, to Aramis, who could hardly breathe. 

"It is indeed extraordinary, " he murmured. 

"But what is still more extraordinary is, that he has never told me somuch as he has just told you. "

"Perhaps the reason may be that you have never questioned him, " saidAramis. 

"It's possible, " replied Baisemeaux; "I have no curiosity. Have youlooked at the room? it's a fine one, is it not?"

"Very much so. "

"A carpet----"

"Beautiful. "

"I'll wager he had nothing like it before he came here. "

"I think so, too. " And then again turning towards the young man, hesaid, "Do you not remember to have been visited at some time or anotherby a strange lady or gentleman?"

"Yes, indeed; thrice by a woman, who each time came to the door in acarriage, and entered covered with a veil, which she raised when we weretogether and alone. "

"Do you remember that woman?"

"Yes. "

"What did she say to you?"

The young man smiled mournfully, and then replied, "She inquired, as youhave just done, if I were happy, and if I were getting weary?"

"What did she do on arriving, and on leaving you?"

"She pressed me in her arms, held me in her embrace, and kissed me. "

"Do you remember her?"

"Perfectly. "

"Do you recall her features distinctly?"

"Yes. "

"You would recognize her, then, if accident brought her before you, orled you into her presence?"

"Most certainly. "

A flush of fleeting satisfaction passed across Aramis's face. At thismoment Baisemeaux heard the jailer approaching. "Shall we leave?" hesaid, hastily, to Aramis. 

Aramis, who probably had learnt all that he cared to know, replied, "When you like. "

The young man saw them prepare to leave, and saluted them politely. Baisemeaux replied merely by a nod of the head, while Aramis, with arespect, arising perhaps from the sight of such misfortune, saluted theprisoner profoundly. They left the room, Baisemeaux closing the doorbehind them. 

"Well, " said Baisemeaux, as they descended the staircase, "what do youthink of it all?"

"I have discovered the secret, my dear governor, " he said. 

"Bah! what is the secret, then?"

"A murder was committed in that house. "

"Nonsense. "

"But attend; the valet and nurse died the same day. "

"Well. "

"And by poison. What do you think?"

"That it is very likely to be true. "

"What! that that young man is an assassin?"

"Who said that? What makes you think that poor young fellow could be anassassin?"

"The very thing I was saying. A crime was committed in his house, " saidAramis, "and that was quite sufficient; perhaps he saw the criminals, and it was feared that he might say something. "

"The deuce! if I only thought that----"

"Well?"

"I would redouble the surveillance. "

"Oh, he does not seem to wish to escape. "

"You do not know what prisoners are. "

"Has he any books?"

"None; they are strictly prohibited, and under M. De Mazarin's ownhand. "

"Have you the writing still?"

"Yes, my lord; would you like to look at it as you return to take yourcloak?

"I should, for I like to look at autographs. "

"Well, then, this one is of the most unquestionable authenticity; thereis only one erasure. "

"Ah, ah! an erasure; and in what respect?"

"With respect to a figure. At first there was written: 'To be boarded atfifty francs. '"

"As princes of the blood, in fact?"

"But the cardinal must have seen his mistake, you understand; for hecanceled the zero, and has added a one before the five. But, by theby----"

"What?"

"You do not speak of the resemblance. "

"I do not speak of it, dear M. De Baisemeaux, for a very simplereason--because it does not exist. "

"The deuce it doesn't. "

"Or, if it does exist, it is only in your own imagination; but, supposing it were to exist elsewhere, I think it would be better for younot to speak about it. "

"Really. "

"The king, Louis XIV. --you understand--would be excessively angry withyou, if he were to learn that you contributed in any way to spread thereport that one of his subjects has the effrontery to resemble him. "

"It is true, quite true, " said Baisemeaux, thoroughly alarmed; "but Ihave not spoken of the circumstance to any one but yourself, and youunderstand, monseigneur, that I perfectly rely on your discretion. "

"Oh, be easy. "

"Do you still wish to see the note?"

"Certainly. "

While engaged in this manner in conversation, they had returned tothe governor's apartments; Baisemeaux took from the cupboard a privateregister, like the one he had already shown Aramis, but fastened by alock, the key which opened it being one of a small bunch of keys whichBaisemeaux always carried with him. Then placing the book upon thetable, he opened it at the letter "M, " and showed Aramis the followingnote in the column of observations: "No books at any time; all linenand clothes of the finest and best quality to be procured; no exercise;always the same jailer; no communications with any one. Musicalinstruments; every liberty and every indulgence which his welfare mayrequire, to be boarded at fifteen francs. M. De Baisemeaux can claimmore if the fifteen francs be not sufficient. "

"Ah, " said Baisemeaux, "now I think of it, I shall claim it. "

Aramis shut the book. "Yes, " he said, "it is indeed M. De Mazarin'shandwriting; I recognize it well. Now, my dear governor, " he continued, as if this last communication had exhausted his interest, "let us nowturn to our own little affairs. "

"Well, what time for repayment do you wish me to take? Fix it yourself. "

"There need not be any particular period fixed; give me a simpleacknowledgment for one hundred and fifty thousand francs. "

"When to be made payable?"

"When I require it; but, you understand, I shall only wish it when youyourself do. "

"Oh, I am quite easy on that score, " said Baisemeaux, smiling; "but Ihave already given you two receipts. "

"Which I now destroy, " said Aramis; and after having shown the tworeceipts to Baisemeaux, he destroyed them. Overcome by so great a markof confidence, Baisemeaux unhesitatingly wrote out an acknowledgment ofa debt of one hundred and fifty thousand francs, payable at the pleasureof the prelate. Aramis, who had, by glancing over the governor'sshoulder, followed the pen as he wrote, put the acknowledgment into hispocket without seeming to have read it, which made Baisemeaux perfectlyeasy. "Now, " said Aramis, "you will not be angry with me if I were tocarry off one of your prisoners?"

"What do you mean?"

"By obtaining his pardon, of course. Have I not already told you that Itook a great interest in poor Seldon?"

"Yes, quite true, you did so. "

"Well?"

"That is your affair; do as you think proper. I see you have an openhand, and an arm that can reach a great way. "

"Adieu, adieu. " And Aramis left, carrying with him the governor's bestwishes. 

CHAPTER 101. The Two Friends

At the very time M. De Baisemeaux was showing Aramis the prisoners inthe Bastile, a carriage drew up at Madame de Belliere's door, and, atthat still early hour, a young woman alighted, her head muffled ina silk hood. When the servants announced Madame Vanel to Madame deBelliere, the latter was engaged, or rather was absorbed, in reading, a letter, which she hurriedly concealed. She had hardly finishedher morning toilette, her maid being still in the next room. At thename---at the footsteps of Marguerite Vanel--Madame de Belliere ran tomeet her. She fancied she could detect in her friend's eyes a brightnesswhich was neither that of health nor of pleasure. Marguerite embracedher, pressed her hands, and hardly allowed her time to speak. "Dearest, "she said, "have you forgotten me? Have you quite given yourself up tothe pleasures of the court?"

"I have not even seen the marriage fetes. "

"What are you doing with yourself, then?"

"I am getting ready to leave for Belliere. "

"For Belliere?"

"Yes. "

"You are becoming rustic in your tastes, then; I delight to see you sodisposed. But you are pale. "

"No, I am perfectly well. "

"So much the better; I was becoming uneasy about you. You do not knowwhat I have been told. "

"People say so many things. "

"Yes, but this is very singular. "

"How well you know how to excite curiosity, Marguerite. "

"Well, I was afraid of vexing you. "

"Never; you have yourself always admired me for my evenness of temper. "

"Well, then, it is said that--no, I shall never be able to tell you. "

"Do not let us talk about it, then, " said Madame de Belliere, whodetected the ill-nature that was concealed by all these prefaces, yetfelt the most anxious curiosity on the subject. 

"Well, then, my dear marquise, it is said that, for some time past, youno longer continue to regret Monsieur de Belliere as you used to. "

"It is an ill-natured report, Marguerite. I do regret and shall alwaysregret, my husband; but it is now two years since he died. I am onlytwenty-eight years old, and my grief at his loss ought not always tocontrol every action and thought of my life. You, Marguerite, who arethe model of a wife, would not believe me if I were to say so. "

"Why not? Your heart is so soft and yielding. " she said, spitefully. 

"Yours is so too, Marguerite, and yet I did not perceive that youallowed yourself to be overcome by grief when your heart was wounded. "These words were in direct allusion to Marguerite's rupture with thesuperintendent, and were also a veiled but direct reproach made againsther friend's heart. 

As if she only awaited this signal to discharge her shaft, Margueriteexclaimed, "Well, Elise, it is said you are in love. " And she lookedfixedly at Madame de Belliere, who blushed against her will. 

"Women never escape slander, " replied the marquise, after a moment'spause. 

"No one slanders you, Elise. "

"What!--people say that I am in love, and yet they do not slander me!"

"In the first place, if it be true, it is no slander, but simply ascandal-loving report. In the next place--for you did not allow meto finish what I was saying--the public does not assert that you haveabandoned yourself to this passion. It represents you, on the contrary, as a virtuous but loving woman, defending yourself with claws andteeth, shutting yourself up in your own house as in a fortress; in otherrespects, as impenetrable as that of Danae, notwithstanding Danae'stower was made of brass. "

"You are witty, Marguerite, " said Madame de Belliere, angrily. 

"You always flatter me, Elise. In short, however you are reported to beincorruptible and unapproachable. You cannot decide whether the world iscalumniating you or not; but what is it you are musing about while I amspeaking to you?"

"I?"

"Yes; you are blushing and do not answer me. "

"I was trying, " said the marquise, raising her beautiful eyes brightenedwith an indication of growing temper, "I was trying to discover to whatyou could possibly have alluded, you who are so learned in mythologicalsubjects in comparing me to Danae. "

"You were trying to guess that?" said Marguerite, laughing. 

"Yes; do you not remember that at the convent, when we were solving ourproblems in arithmetic--ah! what I have to tell you is learned also, butit is my turn--do you not remember, that if one of the terms were given, we were to find out the other? Therefore do you guess now?"

"I cannot conjecture what you mean. "

"And yet nothing is more simple. You pretend that I am in love, do younot?"

"So it is said. "

"Very well, it is not said, I suppose, that I am in love with anabstraction. There must surely be a name mentioned in this report. "

"Certainly, a name is mentioned. "

"Very well; it is not surprising, then, that I should try to guess thisname, since you do not tell it. "

"My dear marquise, when I saw you blush, I did not think you would haveto spend much time in conjectures. "

"It was the word Danae which you used that surprised me. Danae means ashower of gold, does it not?"

"That is to say that the Jupiter of Danae changed himself into a showerof gold for her. "

"My lover, then, he whom you assign me----"

"I beg your pardon; I am your friend, and assign you no one. "

"That may be; but those who are ill disposed towards me. "

"Do you wish to hear the name?"

"I have been waiting this half hour for it. "

"Well, then, you shall hear it. Do not be shocked; he is a man high inpower. "

"Good, " said the marquise, as she clenched her hands like a patient atthe approach of the knife. 

"He is a very wealthy man, " continued Marguerite; "the wealthiest, itmay be. In a word, it is----"

The marquise closed her eyes for a moment. 

"It is the Duke of Buckingham, " said Marguerite, bursting into laughter. This perfidy had been calculated with extreme ability; the name thatwas pronounced, instead of the name which the marquise awaited, hadprecisely the same effect upon her as the badly sharpened axes that hadhacked, without destroying, Messieurs de Chalais and De Thou upon thescaffold. She recovered herself, however, and said, "I was perfectlyright in saying you were a witty woman, for you are making the time passaway most agreeably. This joke is a most amusing one, for I have neverseen the Duke of Buckingham. "

"Never?" said Marguerite, restraining her laughter. 

"I have never even left my own house since the duke has been at Paris. "

"Oh!" resumed Madame Vanel, stretching out her foot towards a paperwhich was lying on the carpet near the window; "it is not necessary forpeople to see each other, since they can write. " The marquise trembled, for this paper was the envelope of the letter she was reading as herfriend had entered, and was sealed with the superintendent's arms. Asshe leaned back on the sofa on which she was sitting, Madame de Bellierecovered the paper with the thick folds of her large silk dress, and soconcealed it. 

"Come, Marguerite, tell me, is it to tell me all these foolish reportsthat you have come to see me so early in the day?"

"No, I came to see you, in the first place, and to remind you of thosehabits of our earlier days, so delightful to remember, when we used towander about together at Vincennes, and, sitting beneath an oak, or insome sylvan shade, used to talk of those we loved, and who loved us. "

"Do you propose that we should go out together now?"

"My carriage is here, and I have three hours at my disposal. "

"I am not dressed yet, Marguerite; but if you wish that we should talktogether, we can, without going to the woods of Vincennes, find in myown garden here, beautiful trees, shady groves, a greensward coveredwith daisies and violets, the perfume of which can be perceived fromwhere we are sitting. "

"I regret your refusal, my dear marquise, for I wanted to pour out mywhole heart into yours. "

"I repeat again, Marguerite, my heart is yours just as much in thisroom, or beneath the lime-trees in the garden here, as it would be underthe oaks in the wood yonder. "

"It is not the same thing for me. In approaching Vincennes, marquise, my ardent aspirations approach nearer to that object towards which theyhave for some days past been directed. " The marquise suddenly raisedher head. "Are you surprised, then, that I am still thinking ofSaint-Mande?"

"Of Saint-Mande?" exclaimed Madame de Belliere; and the looks of bothwomen met each other like two resistless swords. 

"You, so proud!" said the marquise, disdainfully. 

"I, so proud!" replied Madame Vanel. "Such is my nature. I do notforgive neglect--I cannot endure infidelity. When I leave any one whoweeps at my abandonment, I feel induced still to love him; but whenothers forsake me and laugh at their infidelity, I love distractedly. "

Madame de Belliere could not restrain an involuntary movement. 

"She is jealous, " said Marguerite to herself. 

"Then, " continued the marquise, "you are quite enamored of the Dukeof Buckingham--I mean of M. Fouquet?" Elise felt the allusion, andher blood seemed to congeal in her heart. "And you wished to go toVincennes, --to Saint-Mande, even?"

"I hardly know what I wished: you would have advised me perhaps. "

"In what respect?"

"You have often done so. "

"Most certainly I should not have done so in the present instance, forI do not forgive as you do. I am less loving, perhaps; when my heart hasbeen once wounded, it remains so always. "

"But M. Fouquet has not wounded you, " said Marguerite Vanel, with themost perfect simplicity. 

"You perfectly understand what I mean. M. Fouquet has not wounded me;I do not know of either obligation or injury received at his hands, butyou have reason to complain of him. You are my friend, and I am afraid Ishould not advise you as you would like. "

"Ah! you are prejudging the case. "

"The sighs you spoke of just now are more than indications. "

"You overwhelm me, " said the young woman suddenly, as if collecting herwhole strength, like a wrestler preparing for a last struggle; "you takeonly my evil dispositions and my weaknesses into calculation, and donot speak of my pure and generous feelings. If, at this moment, I feelinstinctively attracted towards the superintendent, if I even make anadvance to him, which, I confess, is very probable, my motive for itis, that M. Fouquet's fate deeply affects me, and because he is, in myopinion, one of the most unfortunate men living. "

"Ah!" said the marquise, placing her hand upon her heart, "somethingnew, then, has occurred?"

"Do you not know it?"

"I am utterly ignorant of everything about him, " said Madame deBelliere, with the poignant anguish that suspends thought and speech, and even life itself. 

"In the first place, then, the king's favor is entirely withdrawn fromM. Fouquet, and conferred on M. Colbert. "

"So it is stated. "

"It is very clear, since the discovery of the plot of Belle-Isle. "

"I was told that the discovery of the fortifications there had turnedout to M. Fouquet's honor. "

Marguerite began to laugh in so cruel a manner that Madame de Bellierecould at that moment have delightedly plunged a dagger in her bosom. "Dearest, " continued Marguerite, "there is no longer any question of M. Fouquet's honor; his safety is concerned. Before three days are passedthe ruin of the superintendent will be complete. "

"Stay, " said the marquise, in her turn smiling, "that is going a littletoo fast. "

"I said three days, because I wish to deceive myself with a hope; butprobably the catastrophe will be complete within twenty-four hours. "

"Why so?"

"For the simplest of all reasons, --that M. Fouquet has no more money. "

"In matters of finance, my dear Marguerite, some are without moneyto-day, who to-morrow can procure millions. "

"That might be M. Fouquet's case when he had two wealthy and cleverfriends who amassed money for him, and wrung it from every possible orimpossible source; but those friends are dead. "

"Money does not die, Marguerite; it may be concealed, but it can belooked for, bought and found. "

"You see things on the bright side, and so much the better for you. Itis really very unfortunate that you are not the Egeria of M. Fouquet;you might now show him the source whence he could obtain the millionswhich the king asked him for yesterday. "

"Millions!" said the marquise, in terror. 

"Four--an even number. "

"Infamous!" murmured Madame de Belliere, tortured by her friend'smerciless delight. 

"M. Fouquet, I should think, must certainly have four millions, " shereplied, courageously. 

"If he has those which the king requires to-day, " said Marguerite, "hewill not, perhaps, possess those which the king will demand in a monthor so. "

"The king will exact money from him again, then?"

"No doubt; and that is my reason for saying that the ruin of poor M. Fouquet is inevitable. Pride will induce him to furnish the money, andwhen he has no more, he will fall. "

"It is true, " said the marquise, trembling; "the plan is a bold one; buttell me, does M. Colbert hate M. Fouquet so very much?"

"I think he does not like him. M. Colbert is powerful; he improveson close acquaintance, he has gigantic ideas, a strong will, anddiscretion, he will rise. "

"He will be superintendent?"

"It is probable. Such is the reason, my dear marquise, why I felt myselfimpressed in favor of that poor man, who once loved, and even adored me;and why, when I see him so unfortunate, I forgive his infidelity which Ihave reason to believe he also regrets; and why, moreover, I shouldnot have been disinclined to afford him some consolation, or some goodadvice; he would have understood the step I had taken, and would havethought kindly of me for it. It is gratifying to be loved, you know. Men value love more highly when they are no longer blinded by itsinfluence. "

The marquise, bewildered and overcome by these cruel attacks, which hadbeen calculated with the greatest nicety and precision, hardly knew whatanswer to return; she even seemed to have lost all power of thought. Herperfidious friend's voice had assumed the most affectionate tone; shespoke as a woman, but concealed the instincts of a wolf. 

"Well, " said Madame de Belliere, who had a vague hope that Margueritewould cease to overwhelm a vanquished enemy, "why do you not go and seeM. Fouquet?"

"Decidedly, marquise, you have made me reflect. No, it would beunbecoming for me to make the first advance. M. Fouquet no doubt lovesme, but he is too proud. I cannot expose myself to an affront. . . . Besides I have my husband to consider. You tell me nothing? Very well, Ishall consult M. Colbert on the subject. " Marguerite rose smilingly, asthough to take leave, but the marquise had not the strength to imitateher. Marguerite advanced a few paces, in order that she might continueto enjoy the humiliating grief in which her rival was plunged, andthen said, suddenly, --"You do not accompany me to the door, then?"The marquise rose, pale and almost lifeless, without thinking ofthe envelope, which had occupied her attention so greatly at thecommencement of the conversation, and which was revealed at the firststep she took. She then opened the door of her oratory, and without eventurning her head towards Marguerite Vanel, entered it, closing the doorafter her. Marguerite said, or rather muttered a few words, which Madamede Belliere did not even hear. As soon, however, as the marquise haddisappeared, her envious enemy, not being able to resist the desireto satisfy herself that her suspicions were well founded, advancedstealthily towards it like a panther and seized the envelope. "Ah!" shesaid, gnashing her teeth, "it was indeed a letter from M. Fouquet shewas reading when I arrived, " and then darted out of the room. Duringthis interval, the marquise, having arrived behind the rampart, as itwere, of her door, felt that her strength was failing her; for a momentshe remained rigid, pale and motionless as a statue, and then, like astatue shaken on its base by an earthquake, tottered and fell inanimateon the carpet. The noise of the fall resounded at the same moment as therolling of Marguerite's carriage leaving the hotel. 

CHAPTER 102. Madame de Belliere's Plate

The blow had been the more painful on account of its being unexpected. It was some time before the marquise recovered herself; but oncerecovered, she began to reflect upon the events so heartlessly announcedto her. She therefore returned, at the risk even of losing her life inthe way, to that train of ideas which her relentless friend hadforced her to pursue. Treason, then--deep menaces, concealed underthe semblance of public interest--such were Colbert's maneuvers. Adetestable delight at an approaching downfall, untiring efforts toattain this object, means of seduction no less wicked than the crimeitself--such were the weapons Marguerite employed. The crooked atoms ofDescartes triumphed; to the man without compassion was united awoman without heart. The marquise perceived, with sorrow rather thanindignation, that the king was an accomplice in the plot which betrayedthe duplicity of Louis XIII. In his advanced age, and the avarice ofMazarin at a period of life when he had not had the opportunity ofgorging himself with French gold. The spirit of thus courageouswoman soon resumed its energy, no longer overwhelmed by indulgence incompassionate lamentations. The marquise was not one to weep when actionwas necessary, nor to waste time in bewailing a misfortune as long asmeans still existed of relieving it. For some minutes she buried herface in her cold fingers, and then, raising her head, rang for herattendants with a steady hand, and with a gesture betraying a fixeddetermination of purpose. Her resolution was taken. 

"Is everything prepared for my departure?" she inquired of one of herfemale attendants who entered. 

"Yes, madame; but it was not expected that your ladyship would leave forBelliere for the next few days. "

"All my jewels and articles of value, then, are packed up?"

"Yes, madame; but hitherto we have been in the habit of leaving them inParis. Your ladyship does not generally take your jewels with you intothe country. "

"But they are all in order, you say?"

"Yes, in your ladyship's own room. "

"The gold plate?"

"In the chest. "

"And the silver plate?"

"In the great oak closet. "

The marquise remained silent for a few moments, and then said calmly, "Let my goldsmith be sent for. "

Her attendants quitted the room to execute the order. The marquise, however, had entered her own room, and was inspecting her casket ofjewels with the greatest attention. Never, until now, had she bestowedsuch close attention upon riches in which women take so much pride;never, until now, had she looked at her jewels except for the purpose ofmaking a selection, according to their settings or their colors. On thisoccasion, however, she admired the size of the rubies and the brilliancyof the diamonds; she grieved over every blemish and every defect; shethought the gold light, and the stones wretched. The goldsmith, as heentered, found her thus occupied. "M. Faucheux, " she said, "I believeyou supplied me with my gold service?"

"I did, your ladyship. "

"I do not now remember the amount of the account. "

"Of the new service, madame, or of that which M. De Belliere presentedto you on your marriage? for I have furnished both. "

"First of all, the new one. "

"The covers, the goblets, and the dishes, with their covers, theeau-epergne, the ice-pails, the dishes for the preserves, and the teaand coffee urns, cost your ladyship sixty thousand francs. "

"No more?"

"Your ladyship thought the account very high. "

"Yes, yes; I remember, in fact, that it was dear; but it was theworkmanship, I suppose?"

"Yes, madame; the designs, the chasings--all new patterns. "

"What proportion of the cost does the workmanship form? Do not hesitateto tell me. "

"A third of its value, madame. "

"There is the other service, the old one, that which belonged to myhusband?"

"Yes, madame; there is less workmanship in that than in the other. Itsintrinsic value does not exceed thirty thousand francs. "

"Thirty thousand, " murmured the marquise. "But, M. Faucheux, there isalso the service which belonged to my mother; all that massive platewhich I did not wish to part with, on account of the associationsconnected with it. "

"Ah! madame, that would indeed be an excellent resource for those who, unlike your ladyship, might not be in a position to keep their plate. Inchasing that they worked in solid metal. But that service is no longerin fashion. Its weight is its only advantage. "

"That is all I care about. How much does it weigh?"

"Fifty thousand livres at the very least. I do not allude to theenormous vases for the buffet, which alone weigh five thousand livres, or ten thousand the pair. "

"One hundred and thirty, " murmured the marquise. "You are quite sure ofyour figures, M. Faucheux?"

"Positive, madame. Besides, there is no difficulty in weighing them. "

"The amount is entered in my books. "

"Your ladyship is extremely methodical, I am aware. "

"Let us now turn to another subject, " said Madame de, Belliere; and sheopened one of her jewel-boxes. 

"I recognize these emeralds, " said M. Faucheux; "for it was I who hadthe setting of them. They are the most beautiful in the whole court. No, I am mistaken; Madame de Chatillon has the most beautiful set; she hadthem from Messieurs de Guise; but your set madame, comes next. "

"What are they worth?"

"Mounted?"

"No; supposing I wished to sell them. "

"I know very well who would buy them, " exclaimed M. Faucheux. 

"That is the very thing I ask. They could be sold, then?"

"All your jewels could be sold, madame. It is well known that youpossess the most beautiful jewels in Paris. You are not changeable inyour tastes; when you make a purchase it is of the very best; and whatyou purchase you do not part with. "

"What could these emeralds be sold for, then?"

"A hundred and thirty thousand francs. "

The marquise wrote down upon her tablets the amount which the jewelermentioned. "The ruby necklace?" she said. 

"Are they balas-rubies, madame?"

"Here they are. "

"They are beautiful--magnificent. I did not know that your ladyship hadthese stones. "

"What is their value?"

"Two hundred thousand francs. The center one is alone worth a hundredthousand. "

"I thought so, " said the marquise. "As for diamonds, I have them innumbers; rings, necklaces, sprigs, earrings, clasps. Tell me theirvalue, M. Faucheux. "

The jeweler took his magnifying-glass and scales, weighed and inspectedthem, and silently made his calculations. "These stones, " he said, "musthave cost your ladyship an income of forty thousand francs. "

"You value them at eight hundred thousand francs?"

"Nearly so. "

"It is about what I imagined---but the settings are not included?"

"No, madame; but if I were called upon to sell or to buy, I should besatisfied with the gold of the settings alone as my profit upon thetransaction. I should make a good twenty-five thousand francs. "

"An agreeable sum. "

"Very much so, madame. "

"Will you accept that profit, then, on condition of converting thejewels into money?"

"But you do not intend to sell your diamonds, I suppose, madame?"exclaimed the bewildered jeweler. 

"Silence, M. Faucheux, do not disturb yourself about that; give me ananswer simply. You are an honorable man, with whom my family has dealtfor thirty years; you knew my father and mother, whom your own fatherand mother served. I address you as a friend; will you accept the goldof the settings in return for a sum of ready money to be placed in myhands?"

"Eight hundred thousand francs! it is enormous. "

"I know it. "

"Impossible to find. "

"Not so. "

"But reflect, madame, upon the effect which will be produced by the saleof your jewels. "

"No one need know it. You can get sets of false jewels made for me, similar to the real. Do not answer a word; I insist upon it. Sell themseparately, sell the stones only. "

"In that way it is easy. Monsieur is looking out for some sets ofjewels as well as single stones for Madame's toilette. There will bea competition for them. I can easily dispose of six hundred thousandfrancs' worth to Monsieur. I am certain yours are the most beautiful. "

"When can you do so?"

"In less than three days' time. "

"Very well, the remainder you will dispose of among private individuals. For the present, make me out a contract of sale, payment to be made infour days. "

"I entreat you to reflect, madame; for if you force the sale, you willlose a hundred thousand francs. "

"If necessary, I will lose two hundred; I wish everything to be settledthis evening. Do you accept?"

"I do, your ladyship. I will not conceal from you that I shall makefifty thousand francs by the transaction. "

"So much the better for you. In what way shall I have the money?"

"Either in gold, or in bills of the bank of Lyons, payable at M. Colbert's. "

"I agree, " said the marquise, eagerly; "return home and bring the sum inquestion in notes, as soon as possible. "

"Yes, madame, but for Heaven's sake----"

"Not a word, M. Faucheux. By the by, I was forgetting the silver plate. What is the value of that which I have?"

"Fifty thousand francs, madame. "

"That makes a million, " said the marquise to herself. "M. Faucheux, youwill take away with you both the gold and silver plate. I can assign, asa pretext, that I wish it remodelled on patterns more in accordance withmy own taste. Melt it down, and return me its value in money, at once. "

"It shall be done, your ladyship. "

"You will be good enough to place the money in a chest, and direct oneof your clerks to accompany the chest, and without my servants seeinghim; and order him to wait for me in a carriage. "

"In Madame de Faucheux's carriage?" said the jeweler. 

"If you will allow it, and I will call for it at your house. "

"Certainly, your ladyship. "

"I will direct some of my servants to convey the plate to your house. "The marquise rung. "Let the small van be placed at M. Faucheux'sdisposal, " she said. The jeweler bowed and left the house, directingthat the van should follow him closely, saying aloud that the marquisewas about to have her plate melted down in order to have other platemanufactured of a more modern style. Three hours afterwards she went toM. Faucheux's house and received from him eight hundred thousand francsin gold inclosed in a chest, which one of the clerks could hardlycarry towards Madame Faucheux's carriage--for Madame Faucheux kept hercarriage. As the daughter of a president of accounts, she had broughta marriage portion of thirty thousand crowns to her husband, who wassyndic of the goldsmiths. These thirty thousand crowns had become veryfruitful during twenty years. The jeweler, though a millionaire, was amodest man. He had purchased a substantial carriage, built in 1648, ten years after the king's birth. This carriage, or rather houseupon wheels, excited the admiration of the whole quarter in which heresided--it was covered with allegorical paintings, and clouds scatteredover with stars. The marquise entered this somewhat extraordinaryvehicle, sitting opposite the clerk, who endeavored to put his kneesout of the way, afraid even of touching the marquise's dress. It wasthe clerk, too, who told the coachman, who was very proud of having amarquise to drive, to take the road to Saint-Mande. 

CHAPTER 103. The Dowry

Monsieur Faucheux's horses were serviceable animals, with thicksetknees, and legs that had some difficulty in moving. Like the carriage, they belonged to the earlier part of the century. They were not as fleetas the English horses of M. Fouquet, and consequently took two hoursto get to Saint-Mande. Their progress, it might be said, was majestic. Majesty, however, precludes hurry. The marquise stopped the carriage atthe door so well known to her, although she had seen it only once, undercircumstances, it will be remembered, no less painful than thosewhich brought her now to it again. She drew a key from her pocket, andinserted it in the lock, pushed open the door, which noiselessly yieldedto her touch, and directed the clerk to carry the chest upstairs to thefirst floor. The weight of the chest was so great that the clerk wasobliged to get the coachman to assist him with it. They placed it in asmall cabinet, anteroom, or boudoir rather, adjoining the saloon wherewe once saw M. Fouquet at the marquise's feet. Madame de Belliere gavethe coachman a louis, smiled gracefully at the clerk, and dismissed themboth. She closed the door after them, and waited in the room, aloneand barricaded. There was no servant to be seen about the rooms, buteverything was prepared as though some invisible genius had divined thewishes and desires of an expected guest. The fire was laid, candlesin the candelabra, refreshments upon the table, books scattered about, fresh-cut flowers in the vases. One might almost have imagined it anenchanted house. The marquise lighted the candles, inhaled the perfumeof the flowers, sat down, and was soon plunged in profound thought. Her deep musings, melancholy though they were, were not untinged with acertain vague joy. Spread out before her was a treasure, a million wrungfrom her fortune as a gleaner plucks the blue corn-flower from her crownof flowers. She conjured up the sweetest dreams. Her principal thought, and one that took precedence of all others, was to devise means ofleaving this money for M. Fouquet without his possibly learning fromwhom the gift had come. This idea, naturally enough, was the first topresent itself to her mind. But although, on reflection, it appeareddifficult to carry out, she did not despair of success. She would thenring to summon M. Fouquet and make her escape, happier than if, insteadof having given a million, she had herself found one. But, being there, and having seen the boudoir so coquettishly decorated that it mightalmost be said the least particle of dust had but the moment before beenremoved by the servants; having observed the drawing-room, so perfectlyarranged that it might almost be said her presence there had driven awaythe fairies who were its occupants, she asked herself if the glance orgaze of those whom she had displaced--whether spirits, fairies, elves, or human creatures--had not already recognized her. To secure success, it was necessary that some steps should be seriously taken, and it wasnecessary also that the superintendent should comprehend the seriousposition in which he was placed, in order to yield compliance withthe generous fancies of a woman; all the fascinations of an eloquentfriendship would be required to persuade him, and, should this beinsufficient, the maddening influence of a devoted passion, which, inits resolute determination to carry conviction, would not be turnedaside. Was not the superintendent, indeed, known for his delicacy anddignity of feeling? Would he allow himself to accept from any woman thatof which she had stripped herself? No! He would resist, and if any voicein the world could overcome his resistance, it would be the voice of thewoman he loved. 

Another doubt, and that a cruel one, suggested itself to Madame deBelliere with a sharp, acute pain, like a dagger thrust. Did he reallylove her? Would that volatile mind, that inconstant heart, be likely tobe fixed for a moment, even were it to gaze upon an angel? Was it notthe same with Fouquet, notwithstanding his genius and his uprightness ofconduct, as with those conquerors on the field of battle who shed tearswhen they have gained a victory? "I must learn if it be so, and mustjudge of that for myself, " said the marquise. "Who can tell whether thatheart, so coveted, is not common in its impulses, and full of alloy? Whocan tell if that mind, when the touchstone is applied to it, will notbe found of a mean and vulgar character? Come, come, " she said, "thisis doubting and hesitating too much--to the proof. " She looked at thetimepiece. "It is now seven o'clock, " she said; "he must have arrived, it is the hour for signing his papers. " With a feverish impatience sherose and walked towards the mirror, in which she smiled with a resolutesmile of devotedness; she touched the spring and drew out the handle ofthe bell. Then, as if exhausted beforehand by the struggle she had justundergone, she threw herself on her knees, in utter abandonment, beforea large couch, in which she buried her face in her trembling hands. Ten minutes afterwards she heard the spring of the door sound. The doormoved upon invisible hinges, and Fouquet appeared. He looked pale, andseemed bowed down by the weight of some bitter reflection. He did nothurry, but simply came at the summons. The pre-occupation of his mindmust indeed have been very great, that a man so devoted to pleasure, for whom indeed pleasure meant everything, should obey such a summonsso listlessly. The previous night, in fact, fertile in melancholy ideas, had sharpened his features, generally so noble in their indifferenceof expression, and had traced dark lines of anxiety around his eyes. Handsome and noble he still was, and the melancholy expression of hismouth, a rare expression with men, gave a new character to his features, by which his youth seemed to be renewed. Dressed in black, the lace infront of his chest much disarranged by his feverishly restless hand, thelooks of the superintendent, full of dreamy reflection, were fixedupon the threshold of the room which he had so frequently approachedin search of expected happiness. This gloomy gentleness of manner, thissmiling sadness of expression, which had replaced his former excessivejoy, produced an indescribable effect upon Madame de Belliere, who wasregarding him at a distance. 

A woman's eye can read the face of the man she loves, its every feelingof pride, its every expression of suffering; it might almost be saidthat Heaven has graciously granted to women, on account of their veryweakness, more than it has accorded to other creatures. They can concealtheir own feelings from a man, but from them no man can conceal his. Themarquise divined in a single glance the whole weight of the unhappinessof the superintendent. She divined a night passed without sleep, a daypassed in deceptions. From that moment she was firm in her own strength, and she felt that she loved Fouquet beyond everything else. She aroseand approached him, saying, "You wrote to me this morning to say youwere beginning to forget me, and that I, whom you had not seen lately, had no doubt ceased to think of you. I have come to undeceive you, monsieur, and the more completely so, because there is one thing I canread in your eyes. "

"What is that, madame?" said Fouquet, astonished. 

"That you have never loved me so much as at this moment; in the samemanner you can read, in my present step towards you, that I have notforgotten you. "

"Oh! madame, " said Fouquet, whose face was for a moment lighted up bya sudden gleam of joy, "you are indeed an angel, and no man cansuspect you. All he can do is to humble himself before you and entreatforgiveness. "

"Your forgiveness is granted, then, " said the marquise. Fouquet wasabout to throw himself upon his knees. "No, no, " she said, "sit here bymy side. Ah! that is an evil thought which has just crossed your mind. "

"How do you detect it, madame?"

"By the smile that has just marred the expression of your countenance, Be candid, and tell me what your thought was--no secrets betweenfriends. "

"Tell me, then, madame, why have you been so harsh these three or fourmonths past?"

"Harsh?"

"Yes; did you not forbid me to visit you?"

"Alas!" said Madame de Belliere, sighing, "because your visit to mewas the cause of your being visited with a great misfortune; because myhouse is watched; because the same eyes that have seen you already mightsee you again; because I think it less dangerous for you that I shouldcome here than that you should come to my house; and, lastly, becauseI know you to be already unhappy enough not to wish to increase yourunhappiness further. "

Fouquet started, for these words recalled all the anxieties connectedwith his office of superintendent--he who, for the last few minutes, hadindulged in all the wild aspirations of the lover. "I unhappy?" he said, endeavoring to smile: "indeed, marquise, you will almost make me believeI am so, judging from your own sadness. Are your beautiful eyes raisedupon me merely in pity? I was looking for another expression from them. "

"It is not I who am sad, monsieur; look in the mirror, there--it isyourself. "

"It is true I am somewhat pale, marquise; but it is from overwork; theking yesterday required a supply of money from me. "

"Yes, four millions, I am aware of it. "

"You know it?" exclaimed Fouquet, in a tone of surprise; "how can youhave learnt it? It was after the departure of the queen, and in thepresence of one person only, that the king----"

"You perceive that I do know it; is not that sufficient? Well, go on, monsieur, the money the king has required you to supply----"

"You understand, marquise, that I have been obliged to procure it, thento get it counted, afterwards registered--altogether a long affair. Since Monsieur de Mazarin's death, financial affairs occasion somelittle fatigue and embarrassment. My administration is somewhatovertaxed, and this is the reason why I have not slept during the pastnight. "

"So that you have the amount?" inquired the marquise, with some anxiety. 

"It would indeed be strange, marquise, " replied Fouquet, cheerfully, "ifa superintendent of finances were not to have a paltry four millions inhis coffers. "

"Yes, yes, I believe you either have, or will have them. "

"What do you mean by saying I shall have them?"

"It is not very long since you were required to furnish two millions. "

"On the contrary, to me it seems almost an age; but do not let us talkof money matters any longer. "

"On the contrary, we will continue to speak of them, for that is my onlyreason for coming to see you. "

"I am at a loss to compass your meaning, " said the superintendent, whoseeyes began to express an anxious curiosity. 

"Tell me, monsieur, is the office of superintendent a permanentposition?"

"You surprise me, marchioness, for you speak as if you had some motiveor interest in putting the question. "

"My reason is simple enough; I am desirous of placing some money in yourhands, and naturally I wish to know if you are certain of your post. "

"Really, marquise, I am at a loss what to reply; I cannot conceive yourmeaning. "

"Seriously, then, dear M. Fouquet, funds which somewhat embarrass me. Iam tired of investing my money in land, and am anxious to intrust it tosome friend who will turn it to account. "

"Surely it does not press, " said M. Fouquet. 

"On the contrary, it is very pressing. "

"Very well, we will talk of that by and by. "

"By and by will not do, for my money is there, " returned the marquise, pointing out the coffer to the superintendent, and showing him, as sheopened it, the bundles of notes and heaps of gold. Fouquet, who hadrisen from his seat at the same moment as Madame de Belliere, remainedfor a moment plunged in thought; then suddenly starting back, he turnedpale, and sank down in his chair, concealing his face in his hands. "Madame, madame, " he murmured, "what opinion can you have of me, whenyou make me such an offer?"

"Of you!" returned the marquise. "Tell me, rather, what you yourselfthink of the step I have taken. "

"You bring me this money for myself, and you bring it because you knowme to be embarrassed. Nay, do not deny it, for I am sure of it. Can Inot read your heart?"

"If you know my heart, then, can you not see that it is my heart I offeryou?"

"I have guessed rightly, then, " exclaimed Fouquet. "In truth, madame, Ihave never yet given you the right to insult me in this manner. "

"Insult you, " she said, turning pale, "what singular delicacy offeeling! You tell me you love me; in the name of that affection you wishme to sacrifice my reputation and my honor, yet, when I offer you moneywhich is my own, you refuse me. "

"Madame, you are at liberty to preserve what you term your reputationand your honor. Permit me to preserve mine. Leave me to my ruin, leaveme to sink beneath the weight of the hatreds which surround me, beneaththe faults I have committed, beneath the load even, of my remorse, but, for Heaven's sake, madame, do not overwhelm me with this lastinfliction. "

"A short time since, M. Fouquet, you were wanting in judgment; now youare wanting in feeling. "

Fouquet pressed his clenched hand upon his breast, heaving with emotion, saying: "Overwhelm me, madame for I have nothing to reply. "

"I offered you my friendship, M. Fouquet. "

"Yes, madame, and you limited yourself to that. "

"And what I am now doing is the act of a friend. "

"No doubt it is. "

"And you reject this mark of my friendship?"

"I do reject it. "

"Monsieur Fouquet, look at me, " said the marquise, with glistening eyes, "I now offer you my love. "

"Oh, madame, " exclaimed Fouquet. 

"I have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a falsedelicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would notconfess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and Ihave refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but asit was my love that you sought, it is my love I now offer you. "

"Oh! madame, you overwhelm me beneath a load of happiness. "

"Will you be happy, then, if I am yours--entirely?"

"It will be the supremest happiness for me. "

"Take me, then. If, however, for your sake I sacrifice a prejudice, doyou, for mine, sacrifice a scruple. "

"Do not tempt me. "

"Do not refuse me. "

"Think seriously of what you are proposing. "

"Fouquet, but one word. Let it be 'No, ' and I open this door, " and shepointed to the door which led into the streets, "and you will never seeme again. Let that word be 'Yes, ' and I am yours entirely. "

"Elsie! Elsie! But this coffer?"

"Contains my dowry. "

"It is your ruin, " exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers;"there must be a million here. "

"Yes, my jewels, for which I care no longer if you do not love me, andfor which, equally, I care no longer if you love me as I love you. "

"This is too much, " exclaimed Fouquet. "I yield, I yield, even were itonly to consecrate so much devotion. I accept the dowry. "

"And take the woman with it, " said the marquise, throwing herself intohis arms. 

CHAPTER 104. Le Terrain de Dieu

During the progress of these events Buckingham and De Wardes traveledin excellent companionship, and made the journey from Paris to Calais inundisturbed harmony together. Buckingham had hurried his departure, sothat the greater part of his adieux were very hastily made. His visit toMonsieur and Madame, to the young queen, and to the queen-dowager, hadbeen paid collectively--a precaution on the part of the queen-motherwhich saved him the distress of any private conversation with Monsieur, and also the danger of seeing Madame again. The carriages containing theluggage had already been sent on beforehand, and in the evening he setoff in his traveling carriage with his attendants. 

De Wardes, irritated at finding himself dragged away in so abrupt amanner by this Englishman, had sought in his subtle mind for somemeans of escaping from his fetters; but no one having rendered him anyassistance in this respect, he was absolutely obliged, therefore, tosubmit to the burden of his own evil thoughts and caustic spirit. 

Such of his friends in whom he had been able to confide, had, in theircharacter of wits, rallied him upon the duke's superiority. Others, less brilliant, but more sensible, had reminded him of the king's ordersprohibiting dueling. Others, again, and they the larger number, who, in virtue of charity, or national vanity, might have rendered himassistance, did not care to run the risk of incurring disgrace, andwould, at the best, have informed the ministers of a departure whichmight end in a massacre on a small scale. The result was, that, afterhaving fully deliberated upon the matter, De Wardes packed up hisluggage, took a couple of horses, and, followed only by one servant, made his way towards the barrier, where Buckingham's carriage was toawait him. 

The duke received his adversary as he would have done an intimateacquaintance, made room beside him on the same seat with himself, offered him refreshments, and spread over his knees the sable cloak thathad been thrown on the front seat. They then conversed of the court, without alluding to Madame; of Monsieur, without speaking of domesticaffairs; of the king, without speaking of his brother's wife; of thequeen-mother, without alluding to her daughter-in-law; of the king ofEngland, without alluding to his sister-in-law; of the state of theaffections of either of the travelers, without pronouncing any namethat might be dangerous. In this way the journey, which was performedby short stages, was most agreeable, and Buckingham, almost a Frenchmanfrom wit and education, was delighted at having so admirably selectedhis traveling companion. Elegant repasts were served, of which theypartook but lightly; trials of horses made in the beautiful meadowsthat skirted the road; coursing indulged in, for Buckingham had hisgreyhounds with him; and in such ways did they pass away the pleasanttime. The duke somewhat resembled the beautiful river Seine, which foldsFrance a thousand times in its loving embrace, before deciding uponjoining its waters with the ocean. In quitting France, it was herrecently adopted daughter he had brought to Paris whom he chieflyregretted; his every thought was a remembrance of her--his every memorya regret. Therefore, whenever, now and then, despite his command overhimself, he was lost in thought, De Wardes left him entirely to hismusings. This delicacy might have touched Buckingham, and changed hisfeelings towards De Wardes, if the latter, while preserving silence, hadshown a glance less full of malice, and a smile less false. Instinctivedislikes, however, are relentless; nothing appeases them; a few ashesmay sometimes, apparently, extinguish them; but beneath those ashes thesmothered embers rage more furiously. Having exhausted every means ofamusement the route offered, they arrived, as we have said, at Calaistowards the end of the sixth day. The duke's attendants, since theprevious evening, had traveled in advance, and now chartered a boat, forthe purpose of joining the yacht, which had been tacking about in sight, or bore broadside on, whenever it felt its white wings wearied, withincannon-shot of the jetty. 

The boat was destined for the transport of the duke's equipages from theshore to the yacht. The horses had been embarked, having been hoistedfrom the boat upon the deck in baskets expressly made for the purpose, and wadded in such a manner that their limbs, even in the most violentfits of terror or impatience, were always protected by the soft supportwhich the sides afforded, and their coats not even turned. Eight ofthese baskets, placed side by side, filled the ship's hold. It is wellknown that in short voyages horses refuse to eat, but remain tremblingall the while, with the best of food before them, such as they wouldhave greatly coveted on land. By degrees, the duke's entire equipage wastransported on board the yacht; he was then informed that everything wasin readiness, and that they only waited for him, whenever he would bedisposed to embark with the French gentleman; for no one could possiblyimagine that the French gentleman would have any other accounts tosettle with his Grace than those of friendship. Buckingham desired thecaptain to be told to hold himself in readiness, but that, as the seawas beautiful, and as the day promised a splendid sunset, he did notintend to go on board until nightfall, and would avail himself of theevening to enjoy a walk on the strand. He added also, that, findinghimself in such excellent company, he had not the least desire to hastenhis embarkation. 

As he said this he pointed out to those who surrounded him themagnificent spectacle which the sky presented, of deepest azure in thehorizon, the amphitheatre of fleecy clouds ascending from the sun's discto the zenith, assuming the appearance of a range of snowy mountains, whose summits were heaped one upon another. The dome of clouds wastinged at its base with, as it were, the foam of rubies, fading awayinto opal and pearly tints, in proportion as the gaze was carried frombase to summit. The sea was gilded with the same reflection, and uponthe crest of every sparkling wave danced a point of light, like adiamond by lamplight. The mildness of the evening, the sea breezes, sodear to contemplative minds, setting in from the east and blowing indelicious gusts; then, in the distance, the black outline of the yachtwith its rigging traced upon the empurpled background of the sky--while, dotting the horizon, might be seen, here and there, vessels with theirtrimmed sails, like the wings of a seagull about to plunge; such aspectacle indeed well merited admiration. A crowd of curious idlersfollowed the richly dressed attendants, amongst whom they mistookthe steward and the secretary for the master and his friend. As forBuckingham, who was dressed very simply, in a gray satin vest, anddoublet of violet-colored velvet, wearing his hat thrust over his eyes, and without orders or embroidery, he was taken no more notice of than DeWardes, who was in black, like an attorney. 

The duke's attendants had received directions to have a boat inreadiness at the jetty head, and to watch the embarkation of theirmaster, without approaching him until either he or his friend shouldsummon them, --"whatever may happen, " he had added, laying a stress uponthese words, so that they might not be misunderstood. Having walked afew paces upon the strand, Buckingham said to De Wardes, "I think it isnow time to take leave of each other. The tide, you perceive, is rising;ten minutes hence it will have soaked the sands where we are now walkingin such a manner that we shall not be able to keep our footing. "

"I await your orders, my lord, but----"

"But, you mean, we are still upon soil which is part of the king'sterritory. "

"Exactly. "

"Well, do you see yonder a kind of little island surrounded by a circleof water? The pool is increasing every minute, and the isle is graduallydisappearing. This island, indeed, belongs to Heaven, for it is situatedbetween two seas, and is not shown on the king's charts. Do you observeit?"

"Yes; but we can hardly reach it now, without getting our feet wet. "

"Yes; but observe that it forms an eminence tolerably high, and that thetide rises on every side, leaving the top free. We shall be admirablyplaced upon that little theatre. What do you think of it?"

"I shall be perfectly happy wherever I may have the honor of crossing mysword with your lordship's. "

"Very well, then, I am distressed to be the cause of your wetting yourfeet, M. De Wardes, but it is most essential you should be able to sayto the king: 'Sire, I did not fight upon your majesty's territory. 'Perhaps the distinction is somewhat subtle, but, since Port-Royal, yournation delights in subtleties of expression. Do not let us complainof this, however, for it makes your wit very brilliant, and of a stylepeculiarly your own. If you do not object, we will hurry ourselves, forthe sea, I perceive, is rising fast, and night is setting in. "

"My reason for not walking faster was, that I did not wish to precedeyour Grace. Are you still on dry land, my lord?"

"Yes, at present I am. Look yonder! My servants are afraid we shall bedrowned, and have converted the boat into a cruiser. Do you remark howcuriously it dances upon the crests of the waves? But, as it makes mefeel sea-sick, would you permit me to turn my back towards them?"

"You will observe, my lord, that in turning your back to them, you willhave the sun full in your face. "

"Oh, its rays are very feeble at this hour and it will soon disappear;do not be uneasy on that score. "

"As you please, my lord; it was out of consideration for your lordshipthat I made the remark. "

"I am aware of that, M. De Wardes, and I fully appreciate your kindness. Shall we take off our doublets?"

"As you please, my lord. "

"Do not hesitate to tell me, M. De Wardes, if you do not feelcomfortable upon the wet sand, or if you think yourself a little tooclose to the French territory. We could fight in England, or even uponmy yacht. "

"We are exceedingly well placed here, my lord; only I have the honor toremark that, as the sea is rising fast, we have hardly time----"

Buckingham made a sign of assent, took off his doublet and threw it onthe ground, a proceeding which De Wardes imitated. Both their bodies, which seemed like phantoms to those who were looking at them from theshore, were thrown strongly into relief by a dark red violet-coloredshadow with which the sky became overspread. 

"Upon my word, your Grace, " said De Wardes, "we shall hardly have timeto begin. Do you not perceive how our feet are sinking into the sand?"

"I have sunk up to the ankles, " said Buckingham, "without reckoning thatthe water is even now breaking in upon us. "

"It has already reached me. As soon as you please, therefore, yourGrace, " said De Wardes, who drew his sword, a movement imitated by theduke. 

"M. De Wardes, " said Buckingham, "one final word. I am about tofight you because I do not like you, --because you have wounded me inridiculing a certain devotional regard I have entertained, and one whichI acknowledge that, at this moment, I still retain, and for which Iwould very willingly die. You are a bad and heartless man, M. De Wardes, and I will do my very utmost to take your life; for I feel assured that, if you survive this engagement, you will, in the future, work greatmischief towards my friends. That is all I have to remark, M. DeWardes, " concluded Buckingham, as he saluted him. 

"And I, my lord, have only this to reply to you: I have not disliked youhitherto, but, since you give me such a character, I hate you, and willdo all I possibly can to kill you;" and De Wardes saluted Buckingham. 

Their swords crossed at the same moment, like two flashes of lightningon a dark night. The swords seemed to seek each other, guessed theirposition, and met. Both were practiced swordsmen, and the earlier passeswere without any result. The night was fast closing in, and it was sodark that they attacked and defended themselves almost instinctively. Suddenly De Wardes felt his sword arrested, --he had just touchedBuckingham's shoulder. The duke's sword sunk as his arm was lowered. 

"You are wounded, my lord, " said De Wardes, drawing back a step or two. 

"Yes, monsieur, but only slightly. "

"Yet you quitted your guard. "

"Only from the first effect of the cold steel, but I have recovered. Let us go on, if you please. " And disengaging his sword with a sinisterclashing of the blade, the duke wounded the marquis in the breast. 

"A hit?" he said. 

"No, " cried De Wardes, not moving from his place. 

"I beg your pardon, but observing that your shirt was stained----" saidBuckingham. 

"Well, " said De Wardes furiously, "it is now your turn. "

And with a terrible lunge, he pierced Buckingham's arm, the swordpassing between the two bones. Buckingham, feeling his right armparalyzed, stretched out his left, seized his sword, which was aboutfalling from his nerveless grasp, and before De Wardes could resume hisguard, he thrust him through the breast. De Wardes tottered, his kneesgave way beneath him, and leaving his sword still fixed in the duke'sarm, he fell into the water, which was soon crimsoned with a moregenuine reflection than that which it had borrowed from the clouds. DeWardes was not dead; he felt the terrible danger that menaced him, forthe sea rose fast. The duke, too, perceived the danger. With an effortand an exclamation of pain he tore out the blade which remained in hisarm, and turning towards De Wardes said, "Are you dead, marquis?"

"No, " replied De Wardes, in a voice choked by the blood which rushedfrom his lungs to his throat, "but very near it. "

"Well, what is to be done; can you walk?" said Buckingham, supportinghim on his knee. 

"Impossible, " he replied. Then falling down again, said, "Call to yourpeople, or I shall be drowned. "

"Halloa! boat there! quick, quick!"

The boat flew over the waves, but the sea rose faster than the boatcould approach. Buckingham saw that De Wardes was on the point of beingagain covered by a wave; he passed his left arm, safe and unwounded, round his body and raised him up. The wave ascended to his waist but didnot move him. The duke immediately began to carry his late antagonisttowards the shore. He had hardly gone ten paces, when a second wave, rushing onwards higher, more furious and menacing than the former, struck him at the height of his chest, threw him over and buried himbeneath the water. At the reflux, however, the duke and De Wardes werediscovered lying on the strand. De Wardes had fainted. At thismoment four of the duke's sailors, who comprehended the danger, threwthemselves into the sea, and in a moment were close beside him. Theirterror was extreme when they observed how their master became coveredwith blood, in proportion as the water with which it was impregnated, flowed towards his knees and feet; they wished to carry him. 

"No, no, " exclaimed the duke, "take the marquis on shore first. "

"Death to the Frenchman!" cried the English sullenly. 

"Wretched knaves!" exclaimed the duke, drawing himself up with a haughtygesture, which sprinkled them with blood, "obey directly! M. De Wardeson shore! M. De Wardes's safety to be looked to first, or I will haveyou all hanged!"

The boat had by this time reached them; the secretary and steward leapedinto the sea, and approached the marquis, who no longer showed any signof life. 

"I commit him to your care, as you value your lives, " said the duke. "Take M. De Wardes on shore. " They took him in their arms, and carriedhim to the dry sand, where the tide never rose so high. A few idlersand five or six fishermen had gathered on the shore, attracted by thestrange spectacle of two men fighting with the water up to their knees. The fishermen, observing a group of men approaching carrying a woundedman, entered the sea until the water was up to their waists. The Englishtransferred the wounded man to them, at the very moment the latter beganto open his eyes again. The salt water and the fine sand had got intohis wounds, and caused him the acutest pain. The duke's secretary drewout a purse filled with gold from his pocket, and handed it to the oneamong those present who appeared of most importance, saying: "From mymaster, his Grace the Duke of Buckingham, in order that every possiblecare may be taken of the Marquis de Wardes. "

Then, followed by those who had accompanied him, he returned to theboat, which Buckingham had been enabled to reach with the greatestdifficulty, but only after he had seen De Wardes out of danger. By thistime it was high tide; embroidered coats and silk sashes were lost; manyhats, too, had been carried away by the waves. The flow of the tide hadborne the duke's and De Wardes's clothes to the shore, and De Wardeswas wrapped in the duke's doublet, under the belief that it was his own, when the fishermen carried him in their arms towards the town.