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THE 
 
 VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE; 
 
 OR, 
 
 TEN YEAKS LATER 
 
 BY 
 
 ALEXANDRE DUMAS. 
 
 IN SIX VOLUMES. 
 
 Vol. I. 
 
 LONDON: J. M. DENT & CO. 
 BOSTON: LITTLE, BROWN, & CO. 
 1893. 
 
John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U S A. 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 The "Vicomte de Bragelonne/' the longest and in 
 many respects the most powerful of the D'Artagnan 
 series, was first presented to tlie Englisli-speaking 
 public in an unabridged translation, conforming to 
 the author's own arrangement and in readable form, 
 by the present publishers. Owing to its great 
 length it had previously been translated only in 
 an abridged form. Detached portions of it, too, 
 have appeared from time to time. The chapters 
 devoted to Mademoiselle de la Vallifere have been 
 published separately under the title of " Louise de 
 la Vallifere," while what is commonly known as 
 The Iron Mask " is a translation of that portion 
 of Bragelonne which relates the attempted substi- 
 tution of the Bastille prisoner for Louis XIV. 
 
 The romance, as it was written and as it is here 
 presented in English, offers a marvellously faithful 
 picture of the French court from a period imme- 
 diately preceding the young king's marriage to his 
 cousin, Maria Theresa, the Infante of Spain, to the 
 
vi 
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 downfall of Fouquet. This period was a moment- 
 ous one for France, embracing as it did the diplo- 
 matic triumph of Mazarin in the advantageous 
 Treaty of the Pyrenees ; the death of that avaricious 
 and unscrupulous, but eminently able and far-seeing, 
 minister and cardinal ; the assumption of power by 
 Louis in person ; and the rise to high office and 
 influence over the crushed and disgraced Fouquet, 
 of Jean-Baptiste Colbert. These two years marked 
 the beginning of the most brilliant epoch of court 
 life in France, as well as of her greatest, if some- 
 what factitious, glory both at home and abroad. 
 
 The historical accuracy of the author of " Brage- 
 lonne " — w^hich Miss Pardee, in her justly popular 
 and entertaining work on Louis XI Y., and the 
 historian Michelet as well, have so strongly main- 
 tained — is perhaps more striking in this than in 
 any other of his romances. It is not only in the 
 matter of the events of greater or less importance 
 that one familiar with the history of the period seems 
 to be reading some contemporary chronicle, but the 
 character-sketches of the prominent personages are 
 drawn with such entire fidelity to life that we seem 
 to see the very men and women themselves as they 
 appeared to their contemporaries. 
 
 Thus it is with the king, whose intense egotism 
 was beginning to develop, being unceasingly fos- 
 tered by the flattery of those who surrounded him 
 and told him that he was the greatest of men and 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 vii 
 
 kings, invincible in arms and unequalled in wis- 
 dom ; who was rapidly reaching that state of sub- 
 lime self-sufficiency which led to the famous saying : 
 " L'fitat, c'est moi ; " but who w^as, nevertheless, 
 more bashful and timid and humble at the feet of 
 the gentle and retiring La Vallifere than if she had 
 been the greatest queen in Christendom. 
 
 Of his favorites La Vallifere was the only one 
 who loved him for himself alone, and she has come 
 down to us as one of the few Frenchwomen who 
 have ever been ashamed of being known as a king's 
 mistress. Her life is faithfully sketched in these 
 pages, from her first glimpse of the king at Blois, 
 when she gave her heart to him unasked. When 
 the scheme was formed to use her as a cloak for 
 the king's flirtation with Madame Henriette, " there 
 was a rumor connecting her name with that of a 
 certain Vicomte de Bragelonne, who had caused her 
 young heart to utter its first sighs in Blois ; but the 
 most malicious gossips spoke of it only as a childish 
 flame, — that is to say, utterly without importance." 
 
 Mademoiselle de Montalais made herself notori- 
 ous as a go-between in various love affairs, while 
 Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente, otherwise Made- 
 moiselle de Eochechouart-Mortemart, clever and 
 beautiful, was destined, as Madame de Montespan, 
 to supplant her modest friend in the affections of 
 their lord and master ; and after a career of unex- 
 ampled brilliancy to be herself supplanted by the 
 
viii 
 
 INTEODUCTOKY NOTE. 
 
 governess of her legitimated children, the widow 
 Scarron, better known as Madame la Marquise de' 
 Maintenon. 
 
 "Une maitresse tonnante et triomphante/' Madame 
 de Sevign^ calls Madame de Montespan. The Mor- 
 temart family was supposed to be of the greatest 
 antiquity and to have the same origin as the English 
 Mortimers. The esprit de Mortemart, or Mortemart 
 wit, was reputed to be an inalienable characteristic 
 of the race. And what of Madame herself, who 
 played a part at the court of France which was 
 almost exactly duplicated forty years later by her 
 granddaughter, the Savoy princess, who became 
 Duchesse de Bourgogne, and whose untimely death 
 was one of the most severe of the many domestic 
 afflictions which darkened the last years of the old 
 king's life ? Let us listen for a moment to Eobert 
 Louis Stevenson, writing of the Vicomte de Brage- 
 lonne after his fifth or sixth perusal of it : — 
 
 Madame enchants me. I can forgive that royal 
 minx her most serious offences ; I can thrill and 
 soften with the king on that memorable occasion 
 when he goes to upbraid and remains to flirt ; and 
 when it conies to the ' AUons, aimez-moi done,' it is 
 my heart that melts in the bosom of De Guiche." 
 
 The mutual passion of De Guiche and Madame 
 lasted all her life, we are told; and yet, alas! it was 
 but short-lived, for Madame's days were numbered. 
 She died in 1670, after an illness of but a few hours, 
 
INTKODUCTORY NOTE. ix 
 
 regretted by everybody except her husband. There 
 is little doubt that she was poisoned through the 
 instrumentality of the Chevalier de Lorraine, and 
 probably with the connivance of Monsieur, whose 
 favorite he was. The Chevalier was a prodigy of 
 vice, and one of the most unsavory characters of 
 the period. 
 
 The greed and avarice of Mazarin were his most 
 prominent characteristics ; they are illustrated by 
 innumerable anecdotes, one of which may perhaps 
 be repeated here : He had been informed that a 
 pamphlet was about to be put on sale, in which he 
 was shamefully libelled ; he confiscated it, and of 
 course the market price of it at once increased 
 enormously ; whereupon he sold it secretly at an 
 exorbitant figure and allowed it to circulate, pocket- 
 ing a thousand pistoles as his share of the transac- 
 tion. He used to tell of this himself, and laugh 
 heartily over it. His supreme power had endured 
 so long that everybody desired his death, and his 
 contemporaries hardly did justice to the very solid 
 benefits he had procured for France. 
 
 In drawing the characters of Fouquet and Colbert, 
 Dumas has perhaps, as Mr. Stevenson says, shown 
 an inclination to enlist his reader's sympathies for 
 the former against his own judgment of the equities 
 of the case. 
 
 Historic justice," says the essayist, " should be 
 all upon the side of Colbert, of official honesty and 
 
X 
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 fiscal competence. And Dumas knows it well ; three 
 times at least he shows his knowledge, — once it 
 is but flashed upon us and received with the laughter 
 of Fouquet himself, in the jesting controversy in 
 the gardens of Saint-Mandd ; once it is touched on 
 by Aramis in the forest of Sdnart ; in the end it is 
 set before us clearly in one dignified speech of the 
 triumphant Colbert. But in Fouquet — the master, 
 the lover of good cheer and wit and art, the swift 
 transactor of much business, Vhomme de hruit^ 
 Vhomme de plaisir, Vhomme qui n'est que parceque 
 les autres sont — Dumas saw something of himself^ 
 and drew the figure the more tenderly ; it is to me 
 even touching to see how he insists on Fouquet's 
 honor." 
 
 The grand fete at Vaux was the last straw 
 which made the superintendent's downfall abso- 
 lutely certain. " If his disgrace had not already 
 been determined upon in the king's mind, it would 
 have been at Vaux. ... As there was but one sun 
 in heaven, there could be but one king in France." 
 
 It is interesting to read that the execution of 
 the order for Fouquet's arrest was entrusted to one 
 Artagnan, Captain of Musketeers, " a man of 
 action, entirely unconnected with all the cabals, 
 and who, during his thirty-three years' experience 
 in the Musketeers, had never known anything 
 outside of his orders." 
 
 Fouquet lived nearly twenty years in prison, 
 
INTKODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 xi 
 
 and died in 1680. He has been connected in vari- 
 ous ways with the "Man with the Iron Mask," 
 some investigators having maintained that he was 
 identical with that individual, and therefore could 
 not have died in 1680 ; while others have claimed 
 that the Iron Mask was imprisoned at the Chateau 
 of Pignerol while Fouquet was there. The legend 
 of the unfortunate prisoner has given rise to much 
 investigation and to many conjectures. Voltaire 
 bent his energies to solve the mystery, and in our 
 own day M. Marius Topin has gone into the subject 
 most exhaustively, but without reaching a satisfac- 
 tory conclusion as to the identity of the sufferer. 
 The somewhat audacious use made of the legend 
 by Dumas is based upon what was at one time a 
 favorite solution ; namely, that the unknown was a 
 brother of Louis XIV., said by some to have been 
 a twin, and by others to have been some years older 
 and of doubtful paternity. 
 
 It would be an endless task to cite all the por- 
 tions of these volumes in which historical facts are 
 related with substantial accuracy ; in them fact and 
 fiction are so blended that each enhances the charm 
 of the other, — the element of authenticity adding 
 zest and interest to the romantic portions, while the 
 element of romance gives life and color to the 
 narration of facts. 
 
 Our old friends of the earlier tales bear us com- 
 pany nearly to the end ; but for the first time, 
 
xii INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 political interests are allowed to interfere with the 
 perfect confidence that has existed between them : 
 Aramis, as General of the Jesuits, is true to the 
 reputation of the order, and hesitates at no dis- 
 simulation to gain his ambitious ends. Porthos, 
 still blindly faithful to that one of his friends who 
 claims his allegiance, falls at last a victim to his 
 childlike trust in the scheming prelate, and dies 
 the death of a veritable Titan. The magnificent 
 outburst of righteous anger which the Comte de la 
 Ffere visits upon the king is the last expiring gleam 
 of the spirit of the Athos of the Musketeers. 
 Wrapped up in his love for the heart-broken Brage- 
 lonne, he lives only in his life and " dies in his 
 death." 
 
 And D'Artagnan ? His praises and his requiem 
 have been most fittingly and lovingly sounded by 
 the same graceful writer who has already been 
 quoted, and in the same essay, entitled " Gossip 
 upon a Novel of Dumas," — 
 
 " It is in the character of D'Artagnan that we must 
 look for that spirit of moraUt}^ which is one of the 
 chief merits of the book, makes one of the main joys 
 of its perusal, and sets it high above more popular 
 rivals. . . . He has mellowed into a man so witty, 
 rough, kind, and upright that he takes the heart by 
 storm. There is nothing of the copy-book about his 
 virtues, nothing of the drawing-room in his fine natural 
 civility ; he will sail near the wind ; he is no district 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 xiii 
 
 visitor, no Wesley or Kobespierre ; his conscience is 
 void of all refinement, whether for good or evil ; but 
 the whole man rings true like a good sovereign. . . . 
 Here and throughout, if I am to choose virtues for 
 mj^self or my friends, let me choose the virtues of 
 D'Artagnan. I do not say that there is no character 
 as well drawn in Shakespeare ; I do say there is none 
 that I love so wholly. . . . No part of the world has 
 ever seemed to me so charming as these pages ; and 
 not even my friends are quite so real, perhaps quite so 
 dear, as D'Artagnan." 
 
 Of the great closing chapters of the book, in 
 which the friends are at last separated by death, 
 D'Artagnan falling on the battle-field just as he 
 was about to grasp the coveted prize of the baton 
 of a marshal of France, Stevenson says : — 
 
 can recall no other work of the imagination in 
 which the end of life is represented with so nice a tact ; 
 . . . and above all, in the last volume, I find a singular 
 charm of spirit. It breathes a pleasant and a tonic 
 sadness, always brave, never h3'sterical. Upon the 
 crowded, noisy life of this long tale, evening graduall}^ 
 falls, and the lights are extinguished, and the heroes 
 pass awa}^ one by one. One by one they go, and not a 
 regret embitters their departure. The young succeed 
 tliem in their places. Louis Quatorze is swelling larger 
 and shining broader; another generation and another 
 France dawn on the horizon, — but for us and these old 
 men whom we have loved so long, the inevitable end 
 draws near and is welcome. To read this well is to 
 
xiv 
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 anticipate experience. Ah ! if only when these hours 
 of the long shadows fall for us in reality and not in 
 figure, we ma}^ hope to face them with a mind as quiet. 
 But my paper is running out ; the siege-guns are firing 
 on the Dutch frontier, and I must say adieu for the 
 fifth time to my old comrade, fallen on the field of 
 glor3\ Adieu, rather au revoir ! Yet a sixth time, 
 dearest D'Artagnan, we shall kidnap Monk and take 
 horse together for Belle Isle." 
 
LIST OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 Period, 1660-1671. 
 
 Louis XIV., King of Erance. 
 Maria Theresa, his Queen. 
 Anne of Austria, the Queen Mother. 
 Gaston of Orleans, uncle of the King. 
 
 DUCHESSE D'OrLEANS, 
 
 Philippe, Due d'Anjou, brother of the King, afterwards Due 
 
 d' Orleans. 
 Henrietta of England, his wife. 
 Cardinal Mazarin. 
 Bernouin, his valet. 
 Brienne, his secretary. 
 M. le Due de Beaufort. 
 Prince de Conde. 
 
 Chevalier de Lorraine, favorite of Philippe d'Orleans. 
 CoMTE DE Saint-Aignan, attending on the King. 
 Mademoiselle Marie de Mancini, niece of Cardinal Mazarin. 
 Mademoiselle Aure de Montalais, 1 ^i,- -i 
 Mlle. Athenaise de Tonnay-Charente, ^^^^^^ 
 
 afterwards Madame de Montespan, f Henrietta, Duchesse 
 Mademoiselle Louise de la Valliere, j ^ Orleans. 
 La Molina, Anne of Austria's Spanish nurse. 
 DueHEssE DE Chevreuse. 
 Madame de Motteville, 
 Madame de Navailles, 
 Mademoiselle de Chatillon, 
 Comtesse de Soissons, 
 Mademoiselle Arnoux, 
 
 ladies of the French Court. 
 
xvi 
 
 LIST OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 Louise de Keroualle, afterwards Duchess of Portsmouth. 
 Marechal Grammont. 
 
 CoMTE de Guiche, his son, in love with Madame Henrietta. 
 M. DE Manicamp, friend of the Comte de Guiche. 
 M. DE Malicorne, in love with Mademoiselle de Montalais. 
 M. d'Artagnan, Lieutenant, afterwards Captain, of the King's 
 
 Musketeers. 
 Comte de la Pere (Athos), 
 E.AOUL, YicoMTE DE Bragelonne, his son. 
 M. d'Herblay, afterwards Bishop of Vannes, General of the 
 
 Order of Jesuits, and Due d' Alameda (Aramis). 
 Baron du Yallon de Bracieux de Pierreeonds (Porthos) 
 Jean Poquelin de Moliere. 
 
 ViCOMTE de WaRDES. 
 M. DE YlLLEROY. 
 
 M. DE PoTJQUET, Superintendent of Pinance. 
 Madame Pouquet, his wife. 
 
 Messieurs Lyonne and Letellier, Pouquet's associates m 
 
 the ministry. 
 Marquise de Belliere, in love with Pouquet. 
 
 M. DE LA PoNTAINE, 
 M. GOURVILLE, 
 
 M. Pellisson, friends of Pouquet. 
 
 M. CONRART, 
 M. LORET, 
 
 L'Abbe Pouquet, brother of the Superintendent. 
 M. Yanel, a Councillor of Parliament, afterwards Procureur- 
 General. 
 
 Marguerite Yanel, his wife, a rival of la Marquise de la Belhere. 
 M. DE Saint-Bemy, maitre-hotel to Gaston of Orleans, 
 Madame de Saint-Bemy. 
 
 Jean-Baptiste Colbert, Intendant of Pinance, afterwards Prime 
 Minister. 
 
 VIessieurs d'Inereville, Destouciies, and Porant, in Col- 
 bert's service. 
 
LIST OF CHARACTEES. 
 
 XVll 
 
 Messieurs Breteuil, Maein, axd Havakd, colleagues of 
 Colbert. 
 
 Messieurs d'Eymeris, Lyodot, and Yanin, rarmers-GeiieraL 
 
 M. DE Baisemaux de Montlezun, Governor of the Bastille. 
 
 Seldon, a prisoner at the Bastille. 
 
 No. 3, Bertaudtere, afterwards " The Iron Mask." 
 
 M. DE Saint-Mars, Governor of He Sainte Marguerite. 
 
 A Franciscan Friar, General of the Order of Jesuits. 
 
 Baron von Wostpur, ^ 
 
 MONSEIGNEUR HeRREBIA, 
 
 Meinheer Bonstett, 
 
 SiGNOR MaRINI, J 
 
 Lord MacCumnor, j ^^^^^ ^• 
 
 Grisart, a physician. 
 
 Louis Constant de Pressigny, Captain 
 
 of the King's Frigate Pomona." J 
 M. de Gesvres, Captain of the King's Guards. 
 M. DE BiscARRAT, an officer of the King's Guards. 
 M. DE Friedrich, an officer of the Swiss Guards. 
 Messire Jean Percerin, the King's tailor. 
 M. Valot, the King's physician. 
 Planchet, a confectioner in the Bue des Lombards, 
 Madame Gechter, his housekeeper. 
 Daddy Celestin, Planchet's servant. 
 Bazin, servant to M, d'Herblay. 
 Grimaud, an old servant of Athos. 
 MousQUETON, servant of Porthos. 
 Blasois, servant to Athos. 
 OlivaiNj servant of Vicomte de Bragelonne. 
 JuPENET, a printer, ^ 
 
 Getard, an architect, V in the service of Fouquet. 
 
 Danicamp, J 
 
 Menneville, an adventurer. 
 
 M. Lebrun, painter, 
 
 M. Faucheux, a goldsmith. 
 
xviii 
 
 LIST OF CHAEACTEES. 
 
 Vatel, Poiiquet's steward. 
 Toby, one of Pouqiiet's servants. 
 YvESj a sailor. 
 Keyser, a Dutcli fisherman. 
 
 Maitre Cropole, of the hostelry of the Medici at Blois. 
 PiTTRiNO, his assistant. 
 Madame Cropole. 
 
 Landlord of the Beau Paon Hotel. 
 
 Superior of the Carmelite Convent at Chaillot. 
 
 GuENAUD, Mazarin's physician. 
 
 The Theatin Father, The Cardinal's spiritual director. 
 
 ENGLISH. 
 
 Charles II., King of England. 
 Parry, his servant. 
 
 General Monk, afterwards Duke of Albemarle. 
 DiGBY, his aide-de-camp. 
 General Lambert. 
 
 James, Duke of York, brother of Charles II. 
 George Yilliers, Duke of Buckingham. 
 Lord Bochester. 
 Duke of Norfolk. 
 Miss Mary Grafton. 
 Miss Stewart. 
 
 Host of the Stag's Horn Tavern. 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 VicoMTE DE Bragelonne Vol. I. Froiitispiece 
 
 Drawn by Edmund H. Garrett. 
 
 Louis XIV. Petitot Page 140 
 
 Mazarin's Gaming Party 382 
 
 Drawn* and etched by E. Van Muyden. 
 
 His Greatness the Bishop of Vannes . Vol. II. Frontispiece 
 Drawn and etched by Felix Oiidart. 
 
 Henrietta of England. Petitot ...... Page 342 
 
 "To me, Musketeers!'' 128 
 
 Drawn and etched by E. Van Mu3'den. 
 
 Under the Boyal Oak Vol. III. Frontispiece 
 
 Drawn by Edmund H. Garrett. Etched by W. H W 
 BicknelL 
 
 God's Territory ....... ... Page 120 
 
 Drawn and etched by E. Van Muyden. 
 
 Monsieur. Petitot 258 
 
 Hampton Court . Vol. IV. Frontispiece 
 
 Drawn and etched by Felix Oudart. 
 
 The First Quarrel . . ..... Page 303 
 
 Drawn by Edmund H. Garrett. 
 
 Charles II 416 
 
XX ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Moliere's Idea . . . . , ... Vol. V. Frontispiece 
 Drawn and etched by E. Yan Muyden. 
 
 Louise de la Yalliere. Petitot Page 182 
 
 D'Artagnan and the Kin& 211 
 
 Drawn by Edmund H. Garrett. 
 
 D'Artagnan's Harwell Yol. YI. Frontispiece 
 
 Drawn by Edmund H. Garrett. 
 
 Madame de Montespan. Petitot ...... Fage 158 
 
 The Death of a Titan 312 
 
 Drawn and etched by Felix Oudart. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 I. The Letter 1 
 
 II. The Messenger 12 
 
 III. The Interview 22 
 
 IV. Eather and Son . . , 32 
 
 V. In which something will be said of Cro- 
 
 POLI, OF CrOPOLE, and OF A GrEAT UN- 
 KNOWN Painter 39 
 
 YI. The Unknown 47 
 
 VII. Parry . 56 
 
 VIII. What his Majesty King Louis XTV. was at 
 
 THE Age of Twenty-two 64 
 
 IX. In WHICH the Unknown of the Hostelry 
 
 OF the Medici loses his Incognito . . 78 
 
 X. The Arithmetic of M. de Mazartn ... 92 
 
 XL Mazarin's Policy 103 
 
 XII. The King and the Lieutenant .... 114 
 
 XIIL Marie de Mancini .121 
 
 XIV. In which the King and the Lieutenant 
 
 EACH give Proofs of Memory . . . . 128 
 
 XV. The Proscribed .......... 140 
 
XXiv CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter Page 
 XYI. E.EMEMBEE !".....,,.., 147 
 
 XVII, In which Aramis is sought for, and only 
 
 Bazin eound 160 
 
 XVIII. In which D'Artagnan seeks for Porthos, 
 
 AND ONLY finds MoUSQUETON . . . . 172 
 
 XIX. What D'Artagnan did in Paris . . . 182 
 XX. Of the Society which was formed in 
 the Hue des Lombards, at the Sign 
 OF the Pilon d'Or, to carry out the 
 
 • Idea of M. D'Artagnan 188 
 
 XXI. In which D'Artagnan prepares to travel 
 FOR THE House of Planchet and Com- 
 pany 201 
 
 XXII. D'Artagnan travels for the House of 
 
 Planchet and Company ..... 211 
 
 XXIII. In which the Author, very unwillingly, 
 
 IS FORCED to write A LITTLE H.ISTORY 220 
 
 XXIV. The Treasure 236 
 
 XXV. The March 246 
 
 XXVI. Heart and Mind 257 
 
 XXVII. The Next Day 269 
 
 XXVIII. Contraband Goods ........ 278 
 
 XXIX. In which D'Artagnan begins to fear he 
 has placed his Money and that of 
 Planchet in the Sinking Pund . . 287 
 XXX. The Shares of Planchet and Company 
 
 rise again to Par • 297 
 
 XXXI. Monk reveals Himself ...... 805 
 
 XXXII. Athos and D'Artagnan meet once more 
 
 at the Hostelry of the Stag's Horn 311 
 
CONTENTS. XXY 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 XXXIII. The Audience 327 
 
 XXXIV. Or THE Embakrassment of Riches . . 336 
 XXXV. Upon the Canal 344 
 
 XXXVI. How D'Artagnan drew, as a Fairy might 
 
 HAVE DONE, A CoUNTRY-SeAT FROM A 
 
 Deal Box ,355 
 
 XXXVII. How D'Artagnan regulated the " Pas- 
 sive " OF the Company before he es- 
 tablished its "Active." 366 
 
 XXXVIIL In which it is seen that the French 
 Grocer had already been estab- 
 lished IN THE Seventeenth Century 374 
 
 XXXIX. Mazarin's Gaming-Party .382 
 
 XL. An Affair of State 388 
 
 XLL The Recital 395 
 
 XLIL In which Mazarin becomes Prodigal . 402 
 
 XLIII. GUENAUD 408 
 
 XLIV. Colbert 413 
 
 XLV. Confession of a Man of Wealth . . . 419 
 
 XLVI. The Donation 426 
 
 XLVIL How Anne of Austria gave one Piece 
 OF Advice to Louis XIV., and how 
 
 M. POUQUET GAVE HIM ANOTHER . . 433 
 
 XLVIII. Agony ............. 444 
 
« 
 
 THE 
 
 VICOMTE DE BKAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTER 1. 
 
 THE LETTER. 
 
 Towards the middle of the month of May, in the year 
 1660, at nine o'clock in the morning, wlien the sun, 
 already high in the heavens, was fast absorbing the dew 
 from the wall-flowers of the castle of Blois, a little caval- 
 cade, composed of three men and two pages, re-entered 
 the city by the bridge, without producing any effect 
 upon the passengers on the quay beyond a first move- 
 ment of the hand to the head as a salute, and a second 
 movement of the tongue to say, in the purest French 
 then spoken in France, " There is Monsieur returning 
 from hunting;" and that was all. 
 
 While, however, the horses were climbing the steep 
 acclivity which leads from the river to the castle, several 
 shop-boys approached the last horse, from whose saddle- 
 bow a number of birds were suspended by the beak. 
 
 On seeing this the inquisitive youths manifested with 
 rustic freedom their contempt for such paltry sport ; and 
 after a dissertation among themselves upon the disad- 
 vantages of hawking, they returned to their occupations. 
 One only of the curious party — a stout, chubby, cheer- 
 ful lad — demanded how it was that Monsieur, who^ 
 
 VOL. I. — 1 
 
4 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 note at twenty paces from the castle. Every one about 
 this hstless prince did what he had to do hstlessly. 
 
 At this signal, eight guards, who were lounging in the 
 sun in the square court, ran to their halberds, and Mon- 
 sieur made his solemn entry into the castle. 
 
 When he had disappeared under the shades of the 
 porch, three or four idlers, who had followed the cavalcade 
 to the castle, after pointing out the suspended birds to 
 each other, dispersed with comments upon what they saw ; 
 and when they were gone, the street, the place, and the 
 court, all remained deserted alike. 
 
 Monsieur dismounted without speaking a word, went 
 straight to his apartments, where his valet changed his 
 dress, and, as Madame had not yet sent orders respect- 
 ing breakfast, stretched himself upon a lounge, and w^as 
 soon as fast asleep as if it had been eleven o'clock at 
 night. 
 
 The eight guards, who concluded their service for the 
 day was over, laid themselves down very comfortably in 
 the sun upon some stone benches ; the grooms disap- 
 peared with their horses into the stables ; and, with the 
 exception of a few joyous birds, startling each other with 
 their sharp chirping in the tufts of gilliflowers, it might 
 have been thought that the whole castle was as soundly 
 asleep as Monsieur was. 
 
 All at once, in the midst of this delicious silence, there 
 resounded a clear, ringing laugh, which caused several of 
 the halberdiers in the enjoyment of their siesta to open 
 at least one eye. 
 
 This burst of laughter proceeded from a window of 
 the castle, visited at this moment by tlie sun, which sur- 
 rounded it with light in one of those large angles which 
 the profiles of the chimneys mark out upon the walls 
 before midday. 
 
THE LETTER. 5 
 
 The little balcony of wrought-iron which projected in 
 front of this window was furnished with a pot of red gilH- 
 flowers, another pot of primroses, and an early rose-tree, 
 the foliage of which, beautifully green, was variegated 
 with numerous red specks announcing future roses. 
 
 In the chamber lighted by this window was a square 
 table covered with an old large-flowered Haarlem tapestry ; 
 in the centre of this table was a long-necked stone bottle, 
 in which were irises and lilies of the valley ; at each end 
 of this table was a young girl. 
 
 The position of these two young persons was singular ; 
 they might have been taken for two boarders escaped 
 from a convent. One of them, with both elbows on the 
 table, and a pen in her hand, was tracing characters 
 upon a sheet of fine Dutch paper ; the other, kneeling 
 upon a chair, which enabled her to advance her head 
 and bust over the back of it to the middle of the table, 
 w^as watching her companion as she wrote. 
 
 Thence the thousand cries, the thousand railleries, the 
 thousand laughs, one of which, more brilliant than the 
 rest, had startled the birds from the wall-flowers, and 
 disturbed the slumbers of Monsieur's guards. 
 
 We are taking portraits now ; we shall be allowed, 
 therefore, we hope, to sketch the last two of this 
 chapter. 
 
 The one who was kneeling in the chair — that is to say, 
 the joyous, the laughing one — was a beautiful girl of 
 from nineteen to twenty years, with brown complexion 
 and brown hair, with eyes which sparkled beneath strongly 
 marked brows, and teeth which seemed to shine like 
 pearls between her red coral lips. Her every movement 
 seemed the result of a springing mine ; she did not live, 
 she bounded. 
 
 The other — she who was writing — looked at her tur- 
 
•6 
 
 THE YICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 bulent companion with an eye as limpid, as pure, and as 
 blue as the heaven of that day. Her hair, of a shaded 
 fairness, arranged with exquisite taste, fell in silky curls 
 over her lovely mantling cheeks ; she moved along the 
 paper a delicate hand, whose thinness announced her ex- 
 treme youth. At each burst of laughter that proceeded from 
 her friend she raised, as if annoyed, her white shoulders, 
 which were of refined and pleasing form, but wanting in 
 strength and fulness, as were also her arms and hands. 
 
 " Montalais ! Montalais ! " said she at length, in a 
 voice soft and caressing as a melody, "you laugh too 
 loud ; you laugh like a man. You wall not only draw 
 the attention of messieurs the guards, but you will not 
 hear Madame's bell when Madame rings." 
 
 This admonition did not make the young girl called 
 Montalais cease either to laugh or to gesticulate. She 
 only replied : " Louise, you do not speak as you think, 
 my dear; you know that messieurs the guards, as you 
 call them, have only just begun their sleep, and that 
 a cannon would not waken them ; you know that Ma- 
 dame's bell can be heard at the bridge of Blois, and 
 that consequently I shall hear it when my services are 
 required by Madame. What annoys you, my child, is 
 that I laugh while you are writing ; and what you are 
 afraid of is that Madame de Saint-Eemy, your mother, 
 will come up here, as she does sometimes when we 
 laugh too loud ; that she will surprise us, and that 
 she will see that enormous sheet of paper upon which, 
 in a quarter of an hour, you have only traced the words 
 ' Monsieur RaouL' Now, you are right, my dear Louise, 
 because after these w^ords, ' Monsieur Eaoul,' others may 
 be put so significant and so incendiary as to cause Ma- 
 dame de Saint-Reray to burst out into fire and flames. 
 Ah ! is not that true now % — say." 
 
THE LETTER. 
 
 7. 
 
 And Montalais redoubled her laughter and noisy 
 provocations. 
 
 The fair girl at length became quite angry ; she tore 
 the sheet of paper on which, in fact, the words Mon- 
 sieur Kaoul " were written in good characters, and 
 crushing the paper in her trembling hands, threw it out 
 of the window. 
 
 There, there ! " said Mademoiselle de Montalais ; 
 " there is our little lamb, our gentle dove, angry ! Don't 
 be afraid, Louise ! Madame de Saint-Kemy will not 
 come; and if she shoidd, you know I have a quick ear. 
 Besides, what can be more permissible than to write to 
 an old friend of twelve years' standing, particularly when 
 the letter begins with the words ' Monsieur Eaoul ' V 
 
 " It is all very well ; I will not write to him at all," 
 said the young girl. 
 
 " Ah 1 ah ! in good sooth, Montalais is properly pun- 
 ished," cried the jeering brunette, still laughing. Come, 
 come, let us try another sheet of paper, and finish our 
 despatch off-hand. Good ! there is the bell ringing- 
 no w. By my faith, so much the worse ! Madame must 
 wait, or else do without her first maid of honor this 
 morning." 
 
 A bell, in fact, did ring ; it announced that Madame 
 had finished her toilette, and waited for Monsieur to 
 give her his hand and conduct her from the salon to 
 the refectory. 
 
 This formality being accomplished with great cere- 
 mony, the husband and wife breakfasted, and then sepa- 
 rated till the hour of dinner, invariably fixed at two 
 o'clock. 
 
 The sound of this bell caused a door to be opened in 
 the offices on the left hand of the court, from which filed 
 two maitres cVhotel, folio w^ed by eight scullions bearing a 
 
8 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 kind of hand-barrow loaded with dishes under silver 
 covers. 
 
 One of the matires crhotel, the first in rank, touched 
 one of the guards, who was snoring on his bench, slightly 
 wdth his wand ; he even carried his kindness so far as to 
 place the halberd which stood against the wall in the 
 hands of the man, stupid with sleep ; after which the 
 soldier, without explanation, escorted the viande of Mon- 
 sieur to the refectory, preceded by a page and the two 
 maitres d hotel. 
 
 Wherever the viande passed, the sentinels presented arms. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Montalais and her companion had 
 watched from their window the details of this ceremony, 
 to which, nevertheless, they must have been pretty well 
 accustomed. But they did not look so much from curi- 
 osity as to be assured that they should not be disturbed. 
 So, guards, scullions, maitres dliotel, and pages having 
 passed, they resumed their places at the table ; and the 
 sun, which through the window-frame had for an in- 
 stant fallen upon those two charming countenances, now 
 shed its light only upon the gilliflowers, primroses, and 
 rose-tree. 
 
 " Bah ! " said Mademoiselle de Montalais, taking her 
 place again ; Madame wull breakfast very well with- 
 out me." 
 
 Oh, Montalais, you will be punished!" replied the 
 other girl, sitting down quietly in hers. 
 
 Punished, indeed ! — that is to say, deprived of a ride ! 
 That is just the 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 w^e cannot exceed a league in two 
 hours ; and then to come back straight tow^ards the wing 
 of the castle in whrch is the window of Marie de Medicis, 
 
THE LETTER. 
 
 9 
 
 SO that Madame never fails to say, ' Could one believe 
 it possible that Queen Marie should have escaped from 
 that window — forty-seven feet high ! The mother and 
 two princes and three princesses ! ' If you call that re- 
 laxation, Louise, all I ask is to be punished every day, 
 particularly when my punishment is to remain with you 
 and write such interesting letters as we write ! 
 
 Montalais ! Montalais ! there are duties to be per- 
 formed." 
 
 " You talk of them very much at your ease, my little 
 heart ! — you, who are left quite free amidst this tedious 
 court. You are the only person that reaps the advantages 
 of them without incurring the trouble, — you, who are 
 really more one of Madame's maids of honor than I am, be- 
 cause Madame makes her affection for your father-in-law 
 glance off upon you; so that you enter this dull house as 
 the birds fly into yonder court, inhaling the air, pecking 
 the flowers, picking up the grain, without having the least 
 service to perform or the least annoyance to undergo. 
 And you talk to me of duties to be performed ! In sooth, 
 my pretty idler, what are your own j)roper duties, unless 
 to write to the handsome Raoul? And even that you 
 don't do ; so that it looks to me as if you likewise were 
 rather negligent of your duties ! " 
 
 Louise assumed a serious air, leaned her chin upon her 
 hand, and said, in a tone full of candid remonstrance: And 
 do you reproach me with my good fortune '? Can you have 
 the heart to do it You have a future ; you belong to 
 the court ; the king, if he should marry, will require Mon- 
 sieur to be near his person ; you will see splendid fetes ; 
 you will see the king, who they say is so handsome, so 
 agreeable ! '' 
 
 " Ay, and still more, I shall see Raoul, who attends 
 upon Monsieur the Prince," added Montalais, maliciously. 
 
10 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " 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 poor torn sheet.'^ 
 
 She then held the pen towards her, and with a charm- 
 ing smile encouraged her hand, which quickly traced the 
 words she named. 
 
 Wliat 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 rather even worse.'' 
 ''Do you think so, Montalais'?" 
 
 '' Louise, Louise, your blue eyes are as deep as the sea 
 I saw at Boulogne last year! No, no, I mistake ^ — the 
 sea is perfidious : your eyes are as deep as the azure 
 yonder — look ! — over our heads ! " 
 
 Weil, since you can read so well in my eyes, tell me 
 what I am thinking about, Montalais." 
 
 '' In the first place, you don't think ' Monsieur Raoul ; ' 
 you think ' My dear Raoul.' " 
 
 ''Oh — " 
 
 "Never blush for such a trifle as that! 'My dear 
 Raoul,' we will say, ' you implore me to write to you 
 at Paris, where you are detained by your attendance 
 on Monsieur the Prince. As you must be very dull there 
 to seek for amusement in the remembrance of a country- 
 girl — ' " 
 
 Louise rose up suddenly. " No, Montalais," said she, 
 with a smile ; " I don't think a word of that. Look, this 
 is what I think ; " and she seized the pen boldly, and 
 traced, with a firm hand, the following w^ords : " I should 
 have been very unhappy if your entreaties to obtain a 
 
THE LETTER. 
 
 11 
 
 remembrance of me had been less warm. Everything 
 here reminds me of oar early days, which so quickly 
 passed away, which so delightfully flew by, that no others 
 will ever replace the charm of them in my heart.'^ 
 
 Mpntalais, who watched the flying pen, and read, the 
 wrong way upw^ard, as fast as her friend wTote, here 
 interrupted by clapping her hands. Capital ! cried 
 she ; " there is frankness, there is heart, there is style ! 
 Show these Parisians, my dear, that Blois is the city for 
 fine lano'uaoe ! " 
 
 " He knows very w^ell that Blois was a Paradise to 
 me," replied the girl. 
 
 " That is exactly what I mean to say ; and you speak 
 like an angel." 
 
 I will finish, Montalais ; " and she continued as follows : 
 "You often think of me, you say, M. Raoul. I thank 
 you ; but that does not sui-prise me, when I recollect how 
 often our hearts have beaten close to each other." 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! " said Montalais. " Beware, my lamb ! You 
 are scattering your wool, and there are wolves about. 
 
 Louise was about to re^ly, wlien the gallop of a horse 
 resounded under the porch of the castle. 
 
 What is that 1 " said Montalais, approaching the 
 window. " A handsome cavalier, by my faith ! " 
 
 "Oh! — Eaoul ! " exclaimed Louise, who had made 
 the same movement as her friend, and, becoming pale as 
 death, sank back beside her unfinished letter. 
 
 ^Now, he is a clever lover, upon my word!" cried 
 Montalais; "he arrives just at the proper moment." 
 
 " Come awny, come away, I implore you ! " murmured 
 Louise. 
 
 " Bah ! he does not know me. Let me see what he 
 has come here for." 
 
 4 
 
12 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 THE MESSENGER. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Montalais was right ; the youug cav- 
 aHer was goodly to look upon. 
 
 He was a young man of from twenty-four to twenty- 
 five years of age, tall and slender, wearing gracefully the 
 picturesque military costume of the period. His funnel- 
 shaped boots contained a foot which Mademoiselle de 
 Montalais might not have disowned if she had been dis- 
 guised as a man. With one of his delicate but nervous 
 hands he checked his horse in the middle of the court, 
 and with the other raised his hat, whose long plumes 
 shaded his at once serious and ingenuous countenance. 
 
 The guards, roused by the steps of the horse, awoke, 
 and were on foot in a minute. The young man waited 
 till one of them was close to his saddle-bow ; then, stoop- 
 ing towards him, in a clear, distinct voice, which was 
 perfectly audible at the w^indow where the two girls 
 were concealed^ A messenger 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, seeing that the only one who could have 
 appeared dwelt at the other side of the castle, in an ap- 
 partement looking into the gardens. So he hastened to. 
 add : ^' The officer. Monsieur, is on his rounds ; but in 
 his absence, M. de Saint-Remy, the mcdtre dlwtel^ shall 
 be informed." 
 
THE MESSENGER. 
 
 13 
 
 "M. de Saint-Remy V repeated the cavalier, slightly 
 blushing. 
 
 ^' Do you know him 1 " 
 
 *'Why, yes; but request him, if you please, that my 
 visit be announced to his 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 dUiotel myself." 
 
 The young man, in the mean time, dismounted ; and 
 while the others observed with curiosity every movement 
 of the fine horse the cavalier rode, the soldier returned. 
 
 " Your pardon, young gentleman ; but your name, if 
 you please 1 " 
 
 ''The Vicomte de Bragelonne, on the part of his High- 
 ness M. le Prince de Conde." 
 
 The soldier made a profound bow, and, as if the name 
 of the conqueror of Rocroy and Lens had given him 
 wings, stepped lightly up the steps leading to the 
 antechamber. 
 
 M. de Bragelonne had not had time to fasten his horse 
 to. the iron bars of the railing, when M. de Saint-Remy 
 came running, out of breath, supporting his capacious 
 stomach with one hand, while with the other he cut the 
 air as a fisherman cleaves the waves with his oar. 
 
 " Ah, Monsieur the Viscount ! You at Blois ! " cried he. 
 " Well, that is a wonder ! Good-day to you, — good-day, 
 :M. Raoul." 
 
 '• I offer you a thousand respects, IM. de Saint-Remy." 
 " How Madame de la Yall — I mean, how delighted 
 Madame de Saint-Remy will be to see you ! But come in. 
 
14 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 His royal Highness is at breakfast. Must he be inter- 
 rupted'? Is the matter serious? " 
 
 " Yes and no, M. de Saint-Remy. A moment's 
 delay, however, would be disagreeable to his royal 
 Highness." 
 
 " If that is the case, we will force the guard, Monsieur 
 the Viscount. Come in. Besides, Monsieur is in an excel- 
 lent humor to-day. And then, you bring news, do you 
 not ? " 
 
 " Great news, M. de Saint-Remy." 
 
 And good, I presume 1 " 
 " Excellent." 
 
 Come quickly, come quickly, then ! " cried the worthy 
 man, putting his dress to rights as he Vvcnt along. 
 
 Raoul followed him, hat in hand, and a little discon- 
 certed at the noise made by his spurs in these immense 
 halls. 
 
 As soon as he had disappeared in the interior of the 
 palace, the window of the court was repeopled, and an 
 animated whispering betrayed the emotion of the two 
 girls. They soon appeared to have formed a resolution, 
 for one of the two faces disappeared from the window. 
 This was the brunette ; the other remained behind the 
 balcony, concealed by the flowers, watching attentively 
 through the branches the flight of steps by which M. de 
 Bragelonne had entered the castle. 
 
 In the mean time the object of so much curiosity con- 
 tinued on his way, following the steps of the maUre d'hotel. 
 The noise of quick steps, an odor of wine and viands, a 
 clinking of crystals and plates, warned him that he was 
 coming to the end of his course. 
 
 The pages, valets, and officers, assembled in the offices 
 adjoining the refector}^, welcomed the new-comer with 
 the proverbial politeness of the country. Some of them 
 
THE MESSENGER. 
 
 15 
 
 were acquainted with Raoul, and nearly all knew that he 
 came from Paris. It might be said that his arrival for a 
 moment suspended the service. In fact, a page who was 
 pouring out wine for his royal Highness, on heari-ng the 
 jingling of spurs in the next chamber, turned round like 
 a child, without perceiving that he was continuing to 
 pour out, not into the glass, but upon the table-cloth. 
 
 Madame, who was not so preoccupied as her glorious 
 spouse, remarked this distraction of the page. Well ! 
 exclaimed she. 
 
 Well ! " repeated Monsieur ; what is going on 
 then 1 " 
 
 M. de Saint-Remy, whose head had just entered the 
 doorway, took advantage of the moment. 
 
 <^ Why am I to be disturbed ? " said Gaston, helping 
 himself to a thick slice of one of the largest salmon that 
 had ever ascended the Loire to be captured between 
 Painboeuf and St. Nazaire. 
 
 " There is a messenger from Paris. Oh ! but after 
 Monseigneur has breakfasted will do ; there is plenty of 
 time." 
 
 From Paris ! " cried the prince, letting his fork fall. 
 ^' A hiessenger from Paris, do you say 1 And on whose 
 part does this messenger come 1 " 
 
 ^' On the part of Monsieur the Prmce," said the maitre 
 cV hotels promptly. 
 
 Every one knows that the Prince de Conde was so 
 called. 
 
 A messenger from Monsieur the Prince ! " said Gas- 
 ton, with an inquietude that escaped none of the assist- 
 ants, and consequently redoubled the general curiosit3^ 
 
 Monsieur, perhaps, fancied himself brought back again 
 to the happy times when the opening of a door gave him 
 emotion, when every letter might contain a State secret, 
 
16 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 when every message was connected with a dark and com- 
 plicated intrigue. Perhaps, likewise, that great name of 
 Monsieur the Prince expanded itself, beneath the roofs of 
 Blois, into the proportions 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 re- 
 plied : No, no ; let him come in at once, on the con- 
 trary. By the way, who is he 1 " 
 
 " A gentleman of this country, M. le Vicomte de 
 Eragelonne." 
 
 "Ah, very well ! Introduce him, Saint-Remy, — intro- 
 duce him." 
 
 And when he had let fall these words with his accus- 
 tomed gravity, Monsieur turned his eyes, in a certain 
 manner, upon the people of his suite ; so that all — pages, 
 officers, and equerries — quitted the table-linen, knives, 
 and goblets, and made a retreat towards the second cli am- 
 ber as rapid 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 moment of solitude which this retreat had 
 left him, afforded Monsieur time to assume a diplomatic 
 countenance. He did not turn round, but waited till 
 the maifre hotel should bring the messenger face to face 
 with him. 
 
 Raoul stopped even with the lower end of the table, so 
 as to be exactly between Monsieur and Madame. From 
 this place he made a profound bow to Monsieur, and a 
 very humble one to Madame ; then, drawing himself 
 up into military 2^ose, he waited for Monsieur to address 
 him. 
 
THE MESSENGER. 
 
 17 
 
 On his part the prince waited till the doors were her- 
 metically closed. He would not turn round to ascertain 
 the fact, as that would have been derogatory to his dig- 
 nity ; but he listened with all his ears for the noise of the 
 lock, which would promise hinj at least an appearance of 
 secrecy. 
 
 The doors being closed, Monsieur raised his eyes 
 towards the viscount, and said, ^' It appears that you 
 come from Paris, Monsieur 1 " 
 This minute, Monseigneur." 
 
 " How is the king 1 " 
 His Majesty is in perfect health, Monseigneur." 
 
 " And my sister-in-law % " 
 Her Majesty the queen-mother still suffers from the 
 complaint in her lungs, but for the last month she has 
 been rather better." 
 
 Somebody told me you came on the part of Monsieur 
 the Prince. They must have been mistaken, surely 1 " 
 
 " No, Monseigneur ; Monsieur the Prince has charged 
 me ta convey this letter to your royal Highness, and I 
 am to wait for an answer to it." 
 
 Raoul had been a little annoyed by this cold and cau- 
 tious reception, and his voice insensibly sank to a low key. 
 
 The prince forgot that he was the cause of this mys- 
 tery, and his fears returned. 
 
 He received the letter from the Prince de Conde v/ith 
 a haggard look, unsealed it as he would have unsealed a 
 suspicious packet, and, in order to read it so that no one 
 should remark the effects of it upon his countenance, 
 turned round. 
 
 Madame followed, with an anxiety almost equal to that 
 of the prince, every manoeuvre of her august husband. 
 
 Raoul, impassible, and a little disengaged by the pre- 
 occupation of his hosts, looked from his place through 
 
 VOL. I. — 2 
 
18 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 the open window at the gardens and the statues which 
 peopled them. 
 
 Well ! " cried Monsieur, all at once, with a cheerful 
 smile ; here is an agreeable surprise, and a charming 
 letter from Monsieur the Prince. Look, Madame ! " 
 
 The table was too large to allow the arm of the prince 
 to reach the hand of Madame. Eaoul sprang forward to 
 be their intermediary, and did it 'with so good a grace as 
 to procure a flattering acknowledgment from the princess. 
 
 "You know the contents of this letter, no doubt]" 
 said Gaston to Eaoul. 
 
 "Yes, Monseigneur ; Monsieur the Prince at first ga\'e 
 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 letter was couched in these terms : — 
 
 MoNSEiGNEUK, — The king is about to set out for the 
 frontier. You are aware that the marriage of his Majesty 
 is decided upon. The king has done me the honor to ap- 
 point me his quartermaster for this journey; and as I know 
 with what joy his Majesty would pass a day at Blois, I ven- 
 ture to ask your royal Highness's permission to mark with 
 my chalk the house you inhabit. If, however, the sudden- 
 ness of this request should occasion your royal Highness any 
 embarrassment, I entreat you to say so by the messenger I 
 send, — a gentleman of my suite, M. le Vicomte de Brage- 
 lonne. My itinerary will depend upon your royal Highness's 
 determination, and, instead of passing through Blois, we i?hall 
 come through Yendome and Romorantin. I venture to hope 
 
THE MESSENGER. 
 
 19 
 
 that your royal Highness will receive my request kindly, — 
 it being the expression of niy boundless devotion, and desire 
 to make myself agreeable to you." 
 
 " Nothing can be more gracious towards us/* said 
 Madame, who had more than once consulted her husband's 
 expression during the reading of the letter. " The king 
 here ! '* exclaimed she, in a rather louder tone than would 
 have been necessary to preserve secrecy. 
 
 Monsieur," said his royal Highness in his turn, "you 
 will offer my thanks to M. le Prince de Conde, and ex- 
 press to him my gratitude for the pleasure he has done 
 me." Raoul bowed. 
 
 On what day will his Majesty arrive 1 " 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 the negative 1 " 
 
 I was desired, Monseigneur, to return in all haste to 
 Beaugency, to give counter-orders to the courier, who 
 was himself to go back immediately with counter-orders 
 to Monsieur the Prince." 
 
 " His Majesty is at Orleans, then 1 " 
 
 Much nearer, Monseigneur ; his Majesty must by this 
 time have arrived at Meung." 
 
 Does the court accompany him 1 '* 
 " Yes, Monseigneur." 
 
 Apropos, I forgot to ask you after Monsieur the 
 Cardinal." 
 
 " His Eminence appears to enjoy good health, Mon- 
 seigneur." 
 
 "His nieces accompany him, no doubtl'* 
 
 " No, Monseigneur ; his Eminence has ordered the 
 
20 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Mesdemoiselles de Mancini to set out for Brouage. They 
 will follow the left bank of the Loire, while the court will 
 come by the right." 
 
 " What ! Mademoiselle Marie de Mancini quit the 
 court in that manner 1 " asked Monsieur, his reserve be- 
 ginning to diminish. 
 
 " Mademoiselle Marie de Mancini in particular,^' replied 
 liaoul, discreetly. 
 
 A fugitive smile, an imperceptible vestige of his ancient 
 spirit of intrigue, shot across the pale face of the prince. 
 
 " Thanks, M. de Bragelonne," then said Monsieur. 
 
 You would, perhaps, riot be willing to render Monsieur 
 the Prince the commission with which I would charge you, 
 and that is, that his messenger has been very agreeable 
 to me; 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 at her right hand ; M. de Saint-Kemy 
 entered, and the room was soon filled with people. 
 
 " Messieurs," said the prince, " his Majesty is about to 
 pay me the honor of passing a day at Blois ; I depend 
 upon the king, my nephew, not having to repent of the 
 favor he does my house." 
 
 "Vive le Koi ! " cried all the officers of the household, 
 with frantic enthusiasm, and M. de Saint-Remy louder 
 than the rest. 
 
 Gaston hung down his head with evident chagrin. He 
 had all his life been obliged to hear, or rather to undergo^ 
 this cry of " Vive le Roi ! " which passed over him. For 
 a long time, being unaccustomed to hear it, his ear had 
 had rest ; and now a younger, more vivacious, and more 
 brilliant royalty rose up before him, like a new and a 
 more painful annoyance. 
 
THE MESSENGER. 
 
 21 
 
 Madame perfectly understood the sufFeriugs of that 
 timid, gloomy heart. She rose from the table ; Monsieur 
 imitated her mechanically ; and all the domestics, with a 
 buzzing like that of several beehives, surrounded Kaoul 
 for the purpose of questioning him. 
 
 Madame saw this movement, and called M. de Saint- 
 Remy. " This is not the time for gossiping, but for work- 
 ing," said she, with the tone of an angry housekeeper. 
 
 M. de Saint-Remy hastened to break the circle formed 
 by the officers round Raoul, so that the latter was able 
 to gain the antechamber. 
 
 Care will be taken of that gentleman, I hope," added 
 Madame, addressing M. de Saint-Remy. 
 
 The worthy man immediately hastened after Raoul. 
 
 Madame desires refreshment to be offered to you," 
 said "he; "and there is, besides, a lodging for you in the 
 castle." 
 
 Thanks, M. de Saint-Remy," replied Raoul ; " but you 
 know how anxious I must be to pay my duty to Monsieur 
 the Count, my father." 
 
 " That is true, that is true, M. Raoul ; present him, at 
 the same time, 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, a soft voice called 
 him from the depths of an obscure path. 
 
 "M. 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. This girl was perfectly 
 unknown to him. 
 
22 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BEAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE INTERVIEW. 
 
 Eaoul made one step towards the girl who thus called 
 him. 
 
 But my horse, Madame ? " said he. 
 
 " Oh ! you are terribly embarrassed ! Go out that way, 
 — there is a shed in the outer court ; fasten your horse, 
 and return quickly." 
 
 " I obey, Madame." 
 
 Raoul was not four minutes in performing what he had 
 been directed to do ; he returned to the little door, where, 
 in darkness, he found his mysterious conductress waiting 
 for him on the first steps of a winding staircase. 
 
 "Are you brave enough to follow me. Monsieur knight- 
 errant 1 " asked the girl, laughing at the momentary hesi- 
 tation Raoul had manifested. 
 
 The latter replied by springing up the dark staircase 
 after her. They thus climbed up three stories, he behind 
 her, touching with his hands, w^hen he felt for the balus- 
 ter, a silk dress which rubbed against each side of the 
 staircase. At every false step made by Raoul, his con- 
 ductress cried, " Hush ! " and held out to him a soft and 
 perfumed hand. 
 
 "One would mount thus to the donjon of the castle 
 without being conscious of fatigue," said Raoul. 
 
 "All which means. Monsieur, that you are very much 
 perplexed, very tired, and very uneasy. But be of good 
 cheer, Monsieur; here we are." 
 
THE INTERVIEW. 
 
 23 
 
 The girl threw open a door, which immediately, with- 
 out any transition, filled with a flood of light the landing 
 of the staircase, at the top of which Kaoul appeared, 
 holding fast by the balustrade. 
 
 The girl walked on ; he followed her. She entered a 
 chamber ; he did the same. 
 
 As soon as he was fairly in the net he heard a loud 
 cry, and turning round saw at two paces from him, with 
 her hands clasped and her eyes closed, that beautiful fair 
 girl with blue eyes and white shoulders, who recognizing 
 him had called him Eaoul. 
 
 He saw her, and divined at once so much love and so 
 much joy in the expression of her countenance, that he 
 sank^n his knees in the middle of the chamber, murmur- 
 ing, on his part, the name of Louise. 
 
 Ah ! Montalais ! Montalais ! " sighed she, it is very 
 wicked to deceive one so." 
 
 " Who % 1% 1 have deceived you 1 " 
 
 " Yes ; you told me you would go down to inquire the 
 news, and you have brought up Monsieur." 
 
 " Well, I was obliged to do so ; how else could he have 
 received the letter you wrote him ] " 
 
 And she pointed with her finger to the letter which 
 was still upon the table. Raoul made a step to take it. 
 Louise, more rapid, although she had sprung forward 
 with a very noticeable, graceful hesitation, reached out 
 her hand to stop him. Kaoul came in contact with that 
 warm and trembling hand, took it within his own, and 
 carried it so respectfully to his lips that he might be said 
 to have deposited a sigh upon it rather than a kiss. 
 
 In the mean time Mademoiselle de Montalais had taken 
 the letter, folded it carefully, as women do, in three folds, 
 and slipped it into her bosom. 
 
 " Don't be afraid, Louise," said she ; Monsieur will 
 
24 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 no more venture to take it hence than the defunct kin^ 
 Louis XIII. ventured to take billets from the corsage of 
 Mademoiselle de Hautefort." 
 
 Eaoul blushed at seeing the smile of the two girls ; 
 and he did not remark that the hand of Louise remained 
 in his. 
 
 "There!" said Montalais, "you have pardoned me, 
 Louise, for having brought Monsieur to you ; and you, 
 Monsieur, bear me no malice for having followed me to 
 see Mademoiselle. Now then, peace being made, let us 
 chat like old friends. Present me, Louise, to M, de 
 Bragelonne." 
 
 "Monsieur the Viscount," said Louise, wuth her quiet 
 grace and ingenuous smile, " I have the honor to present 
 to you Mademoiselle Aure de Montalais, maid of honor to 
 her royal Highness Madame, and moreover my friend, — 
 my excellent friend." 
 
 Raoul bowed ceremoniously. 
 
 "And me, Louise," said he, — " will you not present me 
 also to Mademoiselle V 
 
 " Oh, she knows you ; she knows all ! " 
 
 This unguarded expression nrade Montalais laugh and 
 Eaoul sigh with happiness, for he interpreted it thus : 
 "She knows all our love." 
 
 " The ceremonies being over, Monsieur the Viscount," 
 said Montalais, " take a chair, and tell us quickly the 
 news you bring flying thus." 
 
 " Mademoiselle, it is no longer a secret ; the king, on 
 his way to Poitiers, will stop at Blois, to visit his royal 
 Highness." 
 
 " The king here ! " exclaimed Montalais, clapping her 
 hands. "What! are we going to see the court? Only 
 think, Louise, — the real court from Paris ! Oh, good 
 heavens! But when will this liappen, Monsieur]" 
 
THE INTERVIEW. 
 
 25 
 
 Perhaps this evening. Mademoiselle ; at latest, to- 
 morrow." 
 
 Montalais lifted her shoulders in sign of vexation. 
 
 ^^Xo time to get ready ! ^^o time to prepare a single 
 dress ! We are as far behind the fashions as the Poles. 
 We shall look like portraits of the times of Henry IV. 
 Ah, Monsieur, this is sad news you bring us !" 
 
 " But, Mesdemoiselles, you will be still beautiful." 
 
 " That 's stale ! Yes, we shall be always beautiful, 
 because Xature has uiade us passable ; but we shall be 
 ridiculous, because the foshion will have forgotten us. 
 Alas ! ridiculous ! They will think me ridiculous, — 
 me ! " 
 
 " Who are they ? " said Louise, innocently. 
 
 " ' Who are thei/^ ? You are a strange girl, my dear. 
 Is that a question to put to me % They means every- 
 body ; they means the courtiers, the nobles ; they means 
 the king." 
 
 ^' Pardon me, my good friend ; but as here every one 
 is accustomed to see us as we are — " 
 
 Granted ; but that is about to change, and we shall 
 be ridiculous, even for Blois ; for close to us will be seen 
 the fashions from Paris, and they will perceive that we 
 are in the fashion of Blois ! It is enough to make one 
 wild ! " 
 
 " Console yourself. Mademoiselle." 
 
 ^'Well, so let it be! After all, so much the worse 
 for those who do not find me to their taste ! " said 
 Montalais, philosophically. 
 
 ^' They would be very difficult to please,*^ replied 
 Raoul, faithful to his regular system of gallantry. 
 
 " Thank you. Monsieur the Viscount. We were saying, 
 then, that the king is coming to Blois % " 
 With all the court." 
 
26 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Mesdemoiselles de Mancirii, will they be with theml" 
 
 No, certainly not." 
 " But as the king, it is said, cannot do without Made- 
 moiselle Marie 1 " 
 
 Mademoiselle, the king must do without her. Mon- 
 sieur the Cardinal will have it so. 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 a hypocrite, who burns impatiently to make 
 his niece queen of France." 
 
 That cannot be, Mademoiselle, since Monsieur the 
 Cardinal, on the contrary, has brought about the mar- 
 riage of his Majesty with the Infanta Maria Theresa. 
 
 Montalais looked Raoul full in the face, and said : 
 '^And do you Parisians believe in these tales ^ Weill 
 here in Blois we are a little mpre cunning than you." 
 
 Mademoiselle, if the king goes beyond Poitiers and 
 sets out for Spain ; if the articles of the marriage con- 
 tract are agreed upon by Don Luis de Haro and his 
 Eminence, — you must plainly perceive that it is no 
 longer child's play." 
 
 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 
 Marie Mancinil" 
 He adores her." 
 
 ^' Well, he will marry her then. We shall have war 
 with Spain. M. Mazarin will spend a few of the millions 
 he has put away; our gentlemen will perform prodigies 
 of valor in their encounters with the proud Castilians, 
 
THE INTERVIEW. 
 
 27 
 
 and many of them will return crowned with laurels, to 
 be recrowned by us with myrtles. Now, that is my view 
 of politics." 
 
 *^ Montalais, you are wild ! " said Louise, " and every 
 exaggeration attracts you as light does a moth." 
 
 " Louise, you are so extremely reasonable that you 
 will never know how to 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 the 
 king to disobey his mother 1 Is it for a royal heart like 
 his to ^ive a bad example ? When parents forbid love, 
 love must be banished." 
 
 And Louise sighed. Eaoul cast down his eyes, with 
 an expression of constraint. 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. le Comte de la Fere 1 " said Louise, after 
 breathing that sigh which had revealed so many griefs in 
 its eloquent utterance. 
 
 "No, Mademoiselle," replied Raoul, " I have not yet 
 paid my respects to my father ; I was going to his house 
 when Mademoiselle de Montalais so kindly stopped me. 
 I hope the count is well. You have heard nothing to 
 the contrary, have you " 
 
 " No, M. Eaoul, — nothing, thank God ! " 
 
 Here, for several instants, ensued a silence, during 
 which two spirits which followed the same idea com- 
 municated perfectly, without even the assistance of a 
 single glance. 
 
 " Oh, heavens ! " exclaimed Montalais, in a fright ; 
 " there is somebody coming up." 
 
 " Who can it be 1 " said Louise, rising in great agitation. 
 
28 ' THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Mesdemoiselles, I inconvenience you very much. T 
 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 disturb yourselves." 
 
 Louise and Raoul looked at each other to inquire who 
 M. Malicorne could be. 
 
 " There is no occasion to mind him," continued Mon- 
 talais ; " he is not jealous." 
 
 *' 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, which had been left ajar ; it is my 
 mother's step ! " 
 
 Madame de Saint-Remy ! Where shall I hide my- 
 self?" exclaimed Raoul, catching at the dress of Monta- 
 lais, who looked quite bewildered. 
 
 " Yes," said she ; yes, I know the clicking of those 
 pattens ! It is our excellent mother. Monsieur the 
 Viscount, what a pity it is the window looks upon a stone 
 pavement, and that fifty feet below it ! " 
 
 Raoul glanced at the balcony in despair. Louise 
 seized his arm, and held it tight. 
 
 Oh, how silly I am ! " said Montalais ; " have I not 
 the robe-of-ceremony closet 1 It looks as if it were made 
 on purpose." 
 
 It was quite time to act ; Madame de Saint-Remy was 
 coming up at a quicker pace than usual. She gained the 
 landing at the moment when Montalais, as in all scenes 
 of surprises, shut the closet by leaning with her back 
 against the door. 
 
 " Ah ! " cried Madame de Saint-Remy, " you are here, 
 are you, Louise T' 
 
THE INTERVIEW. 
 
 29 
 
 " Yes, Madame/' replied she, more pale than if she had 
 committed a great crime. 
 
 " Well, well ! " 
 Pray be seated, Madame," said Montalais, offering 
 her a chair, which she 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 ^ " 
 Wlay, home, to be sure ; have you not to prepare 
 your toilette " 
 
 ^'What did you say'?" cried Montalais, hastening to 
 affect surprise, so fearful was she that Louise would in 
 some way commit herself. 
 
 '*You don't know the news, then'?" said Madame de 
 Saint-Eemy. 
 
 '^What news, Madame, is it possible for two girls to 
 learn up in this dove-cot % " 
 
 " What ! have you seen nobody " 
 
 "Madame, you talk in enigmas, and you torment us 
 at a slow fire ! " cried Montalais, who, terrified at seeing 
 Louise become paler and paler, did not know to what 
 saint to put up her vows. 
 
 At length she caught an eloquent look of her com- 
 panion's, one of those looks which would convey intelli- 
 gence to a brick wall. Louise directed her attention to 
 a hat, — Raoul's unlucky hat, which was set out in all 
 its feathery splendor upon the table. 
 
 Montalais sprang towards it, and, seizing it w^ith her 
 left hand, passed it behind her into the right, concealing 
 it as she was speaking. 
 
 "Well," said Madame de Saint-Remy, "a courier has 
 arrived announcing the approach of the king. There, 
 Mesdemoiselles ; there is something to make you put on 
 your best looks." 
 
30 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Quick, quick ! " cried Montalais. " Follow Madame 
 your mother, Louise ; and leave me to get ready my 
 dress of ceremony." 
 
 Louise arose ; her mother took her by the hand and 
 led her out on to the landing. 
 
 Come along," said she ; then adding in a lower voice, 
 ^' When I forbid you to come to the apartment of Mon- 
 talais, why do you do so 'I " 
 
 Madame, she is my friend. Besides, I was but just 
 come." 
 
 " Did you see nobody concealed while you were 
 there 1 " 
 
 " Madame ! " 
 
 " I saw a man's hat, I tell you, — the hat of that fellow, 
 that good-for-nothing ! " 
 
 Madame ! " repeated Louise. 
 
 " Of that do-nothing De Malicorne ! A maid of honor 
 to have such company, — fie ! fie ! " And their voices 
 were lost in the depths of the narrow staircase. 
 
 Montalais had not missed a word of this conversation, 
 w^hich echo conveyed to her as if through a tunnel. She 
 shrugged her shoulders on seeing Raoul, who had listened 
 likewise, issue from the closet. 
 
 Poor Montalais," said she, " the victim of friend- 
 ship ! Poor Malicorne, the victim of love ! " 
 
 She stopped on viewing the tragi-comic face of Raoul, 
 who was vexed at having, in one day, surprised so many 
 secrets. 
 
 " Oh, Mademoiselle ! " said he, *^ how can we repay 
 your kindnesses ? " 
 
 Oh, we will balance accounts some day," said she. 
 " For the present, begone, M. de Bragelonne, for Madame 
 de Saint-Remy is not over indulgent ; and any indiscretion 
 on her part might bring hither a domiciliary visit, which 
 would be disagreeable to all parties. Adieu ! " 
 
THE INTERVIEW. 
 
 31 
 
 " But Louise — how shall I know — " 
 " Begone ! begone ! King Louis XL knew very well 
 what he was about when he invented the post." 
 " Alas ! " sighed Eaoul. 
 
 " And am I not here, — T, who am worth all the posts 
 in the kingdom 1 Quick, I say, to horse ! so that if 
 Madame de Saint-Eemy should return for the purpose of 
 preaching me a lesson on morality, she may not find 
 you here." 
 
 She would tell my father, would she not ? " mur- 
 mured Raoul. 
 
 " And you would be scolded. Ah, Viscount, it is very 
 plain you come from court ; you are as timid as the king. 
 Peste I at Blois we contrive better than, that, to do with- 
 out Papa's consent. Ask Malicorne else ! " 
 
 And at these words the gay girl pushed Eaoul out of 
 the room by the shoulders. He glided swiftly down to 
 the porch, regained his horse, mounted, and set off as if 
 he had had Monsieur's eight guards at his heels. 
 
32 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 FATHER AND SON. 
 
 Raoul followed the well-known road, so dear to his 
 memory, which led from 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, since our last journey thither, 
 the walls had taken a grayer tint, and the brick-work 
 assumed a more harmonious copper tone ; the trees had 
 grown, and many that then only stretched their slender 
 branches along the tops of the hedges, now, bushy, 
 strong, and luxuriant, cast around, beneath boughs 
 swollen with sap, a thick shade of flowers or fruit for the 
 benefit of the traveller. 
 
 Eaoul perceived, from a distance, the sharp roof, the two 
 little turrets, the dove-cot in the elms, and the flights of 
 pigeons, who wheeled incessantly around that brick cone, 
 seemingly without power to quit it, like the sweet mem- 
 ories that hover round a spirit at peace. 
 
 As he approached, he heard the noise of the pulleys 
 which grated under the weight of the huge w^ater- 
 buckets. He also fancied he heard the melancholy moan- 
 ing of the water which falls back again into the wells, — 
 a sad, funereal, solemn sound, that strikes the ear of 
 the child and the poet, — both dreamers, — which the 
 English call ^'splash;" Arabian poets, gasgachau ; " 
 and which we Frenchmen, who would be poets, can only 
 
FATHER AND SON. 
 
 33 
 
 translate by a paraphrase, the noise of water falling 
 into water." 
 
 It was more than a year since Eaoul had been to visit 
 his father. He had passed the whole time in the house- 
 hold of Monsieur the Prince. In fact, after all the com- 
 motions of the Fronde, of the early period of which we 
 formerly attempted to give a sketch, Louis de Conde had 
 made a public, solemn, and frank reconciliation with the 
 court. During all the time that the rupture between the 
 king and the prince had lasted, the prince, who had long- 
 entertained a great regard for Bragelonne, had in vain 
 offered him advantages of the most dazzling kind for a 
 young man. The Comte de la Fere, still faithful to his 
 principles of loyalty and royalty one day developed 
 before his son in the vaults of St. Denis, — the Comte 
 de la Fere, in the name of his son, had always declined 
 them. Moreover, instead of following M. de Conde in 
 his rebelHon, the viscount had followed M. de Turenne, 
 fighting for the king. Then, when M. de Turenne, in 
 his turn, had appeared to abandon the royal cause, he 
 had quitted M. de Turenne, as he had quitted M. de 
 Conde. It resulted from this invariable line of conduct, 
 that, as Conde and Turenne had never been conquerors 
 of each other except under the standard of the king, 
 Raoul, although so young, had ten victories inscribed on 
 his list of services, and not one defeat from which his 
 bravery or conscience had to suffer. 
 
 Raoul, therefore, had, in compliance with the w^ish of 
 his father, served obstinately and passively the fortunes 
 of Louis XIV., in spite of the tergiversations which 
 were endeaiic, and, it might be said, inevitable, at that 
 period. 
 
 M. de Conde, on being restored to favor, had at once 
 availed himself of all the privileges of the amnesty, to 
 
 VOL. I. — 3 
 
34 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 ask for many things back again which had been grraited 
 him before, and, among others, Eaoal. M. de la Fere, 
 with his invariable good sense, had immediately sent him 
 again to the prince. 
 
 A 3^ear, then, had passed away since the separation of the 
 father and son. A few letters had softened, but not re- 
 moved, the pains of absence. We have seen that Eaoiil 
 had left at Blois another love in addition to filial love. 
 But let us do him this justice, — if it had not been for 
 chance and Mademoiselle de Montalais, two tempting 
 demons, Raoul, after delivering his message, would have 
 galloped off towards his f\xther's liouse, turning his head 
 round, perhaps, but without stopping for a single in- 
 stant, even if he had seen Louise holding out her arms 
 to him. 
 
 So the first part of the distance was given by Eaoul to 
 regretting the past which he had been forced to quit so 
 quickly, — that is to say, to his lady-love ; and the other 
 part to the friend towards whom he was travelling so 
 much too slowly for his wishes. 
 
 Eaoul found the garden-gate open, and rode straight 
 in, without regarding the long arms, raised in anger, of 
 an old man dressed in a jacket of violet-colored wool, and 
 a large cap of old faded velvet. 
 
 The old man, who w\as weeding with his hands a bed of 
 dwarf roses and marguerites, was indignant at- seeing a 
 horse thus traversing his sanded and nicely raked walks. 
 He even ventured a vigorous "Humph!" which made 
 the cavalier turn round. Then there was a change of 
 scene ; for no sooner had he caught sight of Eaoul' s face, 
 than the old man sprang up and set oft^ in the direction 
 of the house, amid intermittent growlings, which he meant 
 to be paroxysms of wild delight. 
 
 When arrived at the stables, Eaoul gave his horse to a 
 
FATHER AND SON. 
 
 35 
 
 little lackey, and sprang up the perron with an ardor that 
 would have delighted the heart of his father. 
 
 He crossed the antechamber, the dining-room, and the 
 salon without meeting with any one ; at length, on reach- 
 ing the door of M. le Comte de la Fere's apartment, he 
 rapped impatiently, and entered almost without waiting 
 for the word Enter ! " which was thrown to him by a 
 voice at once sweet and serious. The count was seated 
 at a table covered with papers and books ; he was still 
 the noble, handsome gentleman of former days, but time 
 had given to this nobleness and beauty a more solemn 
 and distinct character. A brow white and void of wrin- 
 kles, beneath his long hair, now more white than black ; 
 an eye piercing and mild, under the lids of a young man ; 
 his moustache, fine and but slightly grizzled, waved over 
 lips which were of a pure and delicate model, as if they 
 had never been curled by mortal passions ; a shape straight 
 and supple ; an irreproachable but thin hand ; — such was 
 still the illustrious gentleman whom so many illustrious 
 mouths had praised under the name of Athos. He was 
 engaged in correcting the pages 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 count had neither strength nor time to disengage 
 himself, or to overcome his paternal emotions. 
 
 "What! you here, Eaoul — you! Is it possible]" 
 said he. 
 
 " Oh, Monsieur, Monsieur, what joy to see you once 
 again ! " 
 
 " But you don't answer me, Viscount. Have you leave 
 of absence, or has some misfortune happened at Paris'?" 
 
 " Thank God, Monsieur," replied Raoul, calming him- 
 self by degrees, nothing has happened but what is fortu- 
 
36 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 nate. The king is going to be married, as I had the honor 
 of informing you in my last letter, and, on his way to 
 Spain, he will pass through Blois." 
 " To pay a visit to Monsieur'? " 
 Yes, Monsieur the Count. So, fearing to find him 
 unprepared, or wishing to be particularly polite to him. 
 Monsieur the Prince sent me forward to have the lodgings 
 ready." 
 
 " You have seen Monsieur ! " asked the viscount, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " I have had that honor." 
 " At the castle 1 " 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur," replied Eaoul, casting down his eyes, 
 because, no doubt, he had felt there was something more 
 than curiosity in the count's inquiries. 
 
 "Ah, indeed, Viscount ! Accept my compliments." 
 
 Eaoul 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 the 
 Viscount," persisted M. de la Fere, without accenting his 
 words more strongly, but with a rather severer look. 
 
 " I understand you quite plainly, Monsieur," replied 
 Eaoul ; " and if I hesitate a little in my reply, you are 
 well assured I am not seeking for a falsehood." 
 
 I know you cannot lie, and am therefore surprised 
 that you should be so long in saying yes or no." 
 
 I cannot answer you without understanding you well ; 
 and if I have understood yon, you wull take my first 
 words in ill part. You will be displeased, no doubt, 
 Monsieur the Count, because I have seen — " 
 
FATHER AND SON. 
 
 37 
 
 Mademoiselle de la Yalliere — have you not ? " 
 
 It was of her yon meant to speak, I know very well, 
 Monsieirf," said Eaoul, with inexpressible sweetness. 
 
 And I ask you if you have seen her." 
 
 Monsieur, I was ignorant, when I entered the castle, 
 that Mademoiselle de la Yalliere was there ; it w^as only 
 on my return, after I had performed my mission, that 
 chance brought us together. I have had the honor of 
 paying my respects to her.'' 
 
 " But what do you call the chance that led you into 
 the presence of Mademoiselle de la Yalliere'?" 
 " 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 maid of honor to Madame." 
 
 Monsieur the Yiscount, I will push my interrogatory no 
 further, and reproach myself with having carried it so far. 
 I had desh^ed you to avoid Mademoiselle de la Yalliere, 
 and not to see her without my permission. Oh ! I am 
 quite sure you have told me the truth, and that you took 
 no measures to approach her. Chance has done me this 
 injury ; I do not accuse you of it. I will be content, 
 then, with what I formerly said to you concerning this 
 young lady. I do not reproach her with anything, — 
 God is my witness; only it is not my intention or wish 
 that you should frequent her place of residence. I beg 
 you once more, my dear Eaoul, to understand that." 
 
 It was plain the limpid, pure eye of Raoul was troubled 
 at this speech. 
 
 " Now, my friend," said the count, with his soft smile 
 and in his customary 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 of remaining with you. The prince kindly ap- 
 
38 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 pointed me no other duty than that^ which was so much 
 in accord with my wish." 
 Is the king well 1 " 
 "Perfectly." 
 
 *^And Monsieur the Prince also?" 
 
 As usual, Monsieur." 
 The count forgot to inquire after Mazarin ; that was 
 an old habit. 
 
 Well, Raoul, since you are entirely mine, I will give 
 up my whole day to you. Embrace me — again, again ! 
 You are at home, Viscount ! Ah ! there is our old Gri- 
 maud ! Come in, Grimaud ; Monsieur the Viscount is 
 desirous of embracing you likewise." 
 
 The good old man did not require to be twice told; he 
 rushed in with open arms, Eaoul meeting him half-way. 
 
 Now, if you please, we will go into the garden, Raoul. 
 I will show you the new lodging I have had prepared for 
 you during your leave of absence ; and, while examining 
 the last winter's plantations, and two saddle-horses I 
 have just procured by exchange, you will give me all the 
 news of our friends in Paris." 
 
 The count closed his manuscript, took the young man's 
 arm, and went out into the garden with him. 
 
 Grimaud looked at Raoul with a melancholy air as the 
 young man passed out : observing that his head nearly 
 touched the traverse of the doorway, stroking his white 
 rafale, he allowed the single word " Grown ! " to escape 
 him. 
 
CROPOLI. 
 
 39 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 IN WHICH SOMETHING WILL BE SAID OF CROPOLI, OF 
 CROPOLE, AND OF A GREAT UNKNOWN PAINTER. 
 
 While the Comte de la Fere with Eaoal visits the new 
 buildings he has had erected, and the new horses he has 
 bought, with the reader's permission we will lead him 
 back to the city of Blois, and make him a witness of the 
 unaccustomed activity which pervades that city. 
 
 It was in the hotels that the surprise of the news 
 brought by Raoul was most sensibly felt. 
 
 In fact, the king and the court at Blois, — that is to say, 
 a hundred horsemen, ten carriages, two hundred horses, 
 as many lackeys as masters, — where was this crowd to 
 be housed? Where were to be lodged all the gentry of 
 the neighborhood, who would flock in in two or three 
 hours after the news had enlarged the circle of its report, 
 like the increasing circumferences produced by a stone 
 thrown into a placid lake ? 
 
 Blois, as peaceful in the moi^ning, as we have seen, as 
 the calmest lake in the world, at the announcement of 
 the royal arrival, was suddenly filled with buzzing and 
 tumult. 
 
 All the servants of the castle, under the inspection of 
 the officers, were sent into the city in quest of provisions ; 
 and ten horsemen were despatched to the preserves of 
 Chambord to seek for game, to the fisheries of Beuvron 
 for fish, and to the gardens of Chaverny for fruits and 
 flowers. 
 
40 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Precious tapestries, and lustres with great gilt chains 
 were drawn from the wardrobes ; an army of the poor 
 were engaged in sweeping the courts and washing the 
 stone fronts, w^hile their waives went in droves to the 
 meadows beyond the Loire, to gather green boughs and 
 field-flowers. The wdiole city, not to be behind in this 
 luxury of cleanliness, assumed its best toilette, with the 
 help of brushes, brooms, and water. 
 
 The kennels of the upper city, swollen by these con- 
 tinued outpourings, became rivers at the lower part of the 
 city ; and the pavement — generally very muddy, it must 
 be allowed — took a clean face, and absolutely shone in 
 the friendly rays of the sun. 
 
 Next the music was to be provided ; drawers w^ere 
 emptied ; the shopkeepers had a glorious trade in wax, 
 ribbons, and sword-knots ; housekeepers laid in stores of 
 bread, meat, and spices. And now numbers of the citi- 
 zens, whose houses were furnished as if for a siege, having 
 nothing more to do, donned their festive clothes, and 
 directed their course towards the city gate, in order to 
 be the first to signal or see the cortege. They knew very 
 well that the king would not arrive before night, perhaj)S 
 not before the next morning. But what is expectation 
 but a kind of folly, and what is that folly but an excess 
 of hope 1 
 
 In the lower city, at scarcely a hundred paces from 
 the Castle of the States, between the mall and the castle, 
 in a sufficiently handsome street, then called Rue Yieille, 
 and which must, in fact, have been very old, stood a ven- 
 erable edifice, with pointed gables, of squat and large 
 dimensions, ornamented with three windows looking into 
 the street on the first floor, with two in the second, and 
 with a little bull's-eye in the third. 
 
 On the sides of this triangle had recently been constructed 
 
CROPOLI. 
 
 41 
 
 a parallelogram of considerable size, which encroached upon 
 the street remorselessly, according to the familiar cus- 
 tom of the building-inspectors of that period. The street 
 was narrowed by a quarter by it, but then the house 
 was enlarged by a half; and was not that a sufficient 
 compensation 1 
 
 Tradition said that this house with the pointed gables 
 was inhabited, in the time of Henry III., by a councillor 
 of State whom Queen Catherine came, some say to visit, 
 and others to strangle. However that may be, the good 
 lady must have stepped with a circumspect foot over the 
 threshold of this building. 
 
 After the councillor had died — whether by strangula- 
 tion or naturally is of no consequence — the house had 
 been sold, then abandoned, and lastly isolated from the 
 other houses of the street. Towards the middle of the 
 reign of Louis XIII. only, an Italian, named Cropoli, es- 
 caped from the kitchens of Marechal d'Ancre, came and 
 took possession of this house. There he established a 
 little hostelry, in w^hich was fabricated a macaroni so 
 delicious that people came from miles round to fetch it 
 or eat it. 
 
 So famous had the house become for it, that, when 
 Marie de Medicis was a prisoner, 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. The dish of macaroni was left upon the 
 table, only jast tasted by the royal mouth. 
 
 This double prestige of a strangulation and a mac- 
 aroni, conferred upon the triangular house, gave poor 
 Cropoli a fancy to grace his hostelry with a pompous 
 title. But his quality of an Italian was no recommenda- 
 tion in these times, and his small, well-concealed fortune 
 forbade attracting too much attention. 
 
42 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 When he found himself about to die, which happened 
 in 1643, just after the death of Louis XilL, he called to 
 him his son, a young cook of great promise, and with 
 tears in his eyes, recommended him to preserve care- 
 fully the secret of the macaroni, to Frenchify his name, 
 and at length, when the political horizon should be cleared 
 from the clouds which obscured it, — this was practised 
 then as in our day, — to order of the nearest smith a 
 handsome sign, upon which a famous painter, Avhom he 
 named, should design two queens' portraits, with these 
 words as a legend : To the Medici." 
 
 The w^orthy Cropoli, after these recommendations, had 
 only sufficient time to point out to his young successor a 
 fireplace, under the slab of which he had hidden a thou- 
 sand ten franc louis, and then expired. 
 
 Cropoli the younger, like a man of good heart, sup- 
 ported the loss with resignation, and the gain w^ithout 
 insolence. He began by accustoming the public to 
 sound the final i of his name so little, that, by the aid of 
 general complaisance, he was soon called nothing but 
 M. Cropole, which is quite a French name. He then 
 married, having had in his eye a little French girl, 
 from whose parents he extorted a reasonable dowry by 
 showing them what there was beneath the slab of the 
 fireplace. 
 
 These two points accomplished, he went in search of 
 the painter who was to paint the sign ; and he was soon 
 found. He was an old Italian, a rival of the Raphaels 
 and the Caracci, but an unfortunate rival. He said he 
 was of the Venetian school, doubtless from his fondness 
 for color. His works, of which he had never sold one, 
 attracted the eye at a distance of a hundred paces ; but 
 they so formidably displeased the citizens that he had 
 finished by painting no more. 
 
CROPOLI. 43 
 
 He boasted of having painted a bath-room for Madame 
 la Marechale d'Ancre, and moaned over this chamber hav- 
 ing been burnt at the time of the marshal's disaster. 
 
 Cropoh, in his character of a compatriot, was indulgent 
 towards Pittrino, which was the name of the artist. Per- 
 haps he had seen the famous pictures of the bath-room. 
 Be this as it may, he held in such esteem, we may say 
 in such friendship, the famous Pittrino, that he took him 
 into his own house. 
 
 Pittrino, grateful, and fed with macaroni, set about 
 propagating the reputation of this national dish ; and 
 from the time of its founder, he had rendered, with his 
 indefatigable tongue, signal services to the house of 
 Cropoli. 
 
 As he grew old he attached himself to the son as he 
 had done to the father, and by degrees became a kind of 
 overlooker of the house, in which his remarkable integ- 
 rity, his acknowledged sobriety, his proverbial chastity, 
 and a thousand other virtues useless to enumerate, gave 
 him an eternal place by the fireside, with a right of in- 
 spection over the domestics. Besides this, it was he who 
 tasted the macaroni, to maintain the pure flavor of the 
 ancient tradition ; and it must be allowed that he never 
 permitted a grain of pepper too much, or an atom of par- 
 mesan too little. His joy was at its height on that day 
 when called upon to share tlie secret ot Ci'opoli the 
 younger, and to paint the famous sign. 
 
 He was seen at once rummaging with ardor in an old 
 box, in which he found some pencils, a little gnawed by 
 the rats, but still passable ; some colors in bladders, al- 
 most dried up ; some linseed-oil in a bottle, and a palette 
 which had formerly belonged to Bronzino, that diou de la 
 pittoure, as the ultramontane artist, in his ever-young 
 enthusiasm, always called him. 
 
44 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Pittrino was puffed up with all the joy of a rehabilitation. 
 
 He did as Raphael had done, — he changed his style, 
 and painted, in the fashion of the Albanian, two god- 
 desses rather than two queens. These illustrious ladies 
 appeared so lovely on the sign, — they presented to the 
 astonished eyes such an assemblage of lilies and roses, 
 the enchanting result of the change of style in Pittrino, 
 ■ — they assumed poses of sirens so Anacreontic, — that 
 the chief magistrate, when admitted to view this capital 
 piece in the hall of Cropoli, at once declared that these 
 ladies were too handsome, of too animated a beauty, to 
 figure as a sign in the eyes of passengers. 
 
 To Pittrino he added : ^' His royal Highness Monsieur, 
 who often comes into our city, will not be much pleased 
 to see his illustrious mother so slightly clothed, and he 
 will send you to the dungeons of the State ; for, remem- 
 ber, the heart of that glorious prince is not always tender. 
 You must efface either the two sirens or the legend, with- 
 out which I forbid the exhibition of the sign. I say this 
 for your sake, Master Cropole, as well as for yours, Signor 
 Pittrino." 
 
 What answer could be made to this 1 It was necessary 
 to thank the magistrate for his kindness, which Cropole 
 did. But Pittrino remained downcast and sad ; he felt 
 assured of what was about to happen. 
 
 The edile was scarcely gone when Cropole, crossing his 
 arms, said, " Well, master, what is to be done 1 " 
 
 ^' We must efface the legend," said Pittrino, in a 
 melancholy tone. " I have some excellent ivory-black ; 
 it will be done in a moment, and we will replace the 
 Medici by the nymphs or the sirens, whichever yon 
 prefer." 
 
 " No," said Cropole, the will of my father must be 
 carried out. My father considered — " 
 
CROPOLI. 
 
 45 
 
 ^' 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," said Pittrino, "is that he desired they should 
 be likenesses, and they are so." 
 
 " Yes ; but if they had not been so, who would have 
 recognized them without the legend 1 At the present 
 day, even, w^hen the memory of the Blaisois begins to be 
 faint with regard to these two celebrated persons, who 
 would recognize Catherine and Marie without the words 
 ^To the Medici^]" 
 
 " But the figures 1 " said Pittrino, in despair ; for he 
 felt that young Cropole was right. " I should not like 
 to lose the fruit of my labor." 
 
 " And I shoidd not wish you to be thrown into prison, 
 and myself into the dungeons." 
 
 " Let us efilice ^ Medici,' " said Pittrino, supplicatingly. 
 
 " No," replied Cropole, firmly. ^' I have got an idea, 
 a sublime idea, — your picture shall appear, and my 
 legend likewise. Does not 'Medici' mean ^doctor,' or 
 ' physician,' in Italian 1 " 
 
 " Yes, in the plural." 
 
 " Well, then, you shall order another sign-frame of the 
 smith ; you shall paint six physicians, and write under- 
 neath ' Aux Medici,' which makes a very pretty play 
 upon words." 
 
 " Six physicians ! impossible ! And the composition 1 " 
 cried Pittrino. 
 
 " That is your business — but so it shall be — I insist 
 upon it — it must be so — my macaroni is burning." 
 
 This reasoning was peremptory. Pittrino obeyed. 
 He composed the sign of six physicians, with the legend ; 
 the magistrate applauded and authorized it. 
 
46 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 The sign produced an extravagant success in the city, 
 which proves that poetry has always suffered injustice 
 from the people, as Pittriiio said. 
 
 Cropole, to make amends to his painter-in-ordinary, 
 hung up the nymphs of the preceding sign in his bed- 
 room, which made Madame Cropole blush every 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 this is how the hostelry of the Medici, making 
 a fortune, was forced to be enlarged by the quadrilateral 
 which we have described ; and this is how there was at 
 Blois a hostelry of that name, v»^hich had Master Cropole 
 for proprietor, and for painter-in-ordinary Master Pittrino. 
 
THE UNKNOWN 
 
 47 
 
 CHAPTEE VI 
 
 THE UNKNOWN. 
 
 Thus founded and recommended by its sign, the hostelry 
 of Master Cropole held its way steadily on towards a 
 solid prosperity. 
 
 It was not an immense fortune that Cropole had in 
 view ; bat he might hope to double the thousand louis 
 d'or left by his father, to make another thousand louis 
 by the sale of his house and stock, and, free at length, to 
 live happily like a retired citizen. 
 
 Cropole was anxious for gain, and was half crazy with 
 joy at the news of the arrival of Louis XIV. 
 
 Himself, his wife, Pittrino, and two cooks immediately 
 laid hands upon all the inhabitants of the dove-cot, the 
 poultry-yard, and the rabbit-hutches ; so that as many 
 lamentations and cries resounded in the yards of the 
 hostelry of the Medici as were once heard in Eama. 
 
 Cropole had, at the time, but one single traveller in his 
 house. 
 
 This was a man of scarcely thirty years of age, hand- 
 some, tall, austere, or rather melancholy, in all his ges- 
 tures and looks. 
 
 He was dressed in black velvet with jet trimmings ; a 
 white collar, as plain as that of the severest Puritan, set 
 off the whiteness of his youthful neck ; a small, dark- 
 colored mustache scarcelv covered his curled, disdainful 
 
 lip. 
 
48 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 He spoke to people looking them full in the face, with- 
 out affectation, it is true, but without scruple ; so that 
 the brilliancy of his black eyes became so insupportable 
 that more than one look had sunk beneath his, like 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 the commoner, as they are 
 really divided into two races, the black and the white, — 
 at this time, w^e say, he w^hose portrait we have just 
 sketched could not fail of being taken for a gentleman, 
 and of the best class. To ascertain this, there w^as no 
 necessity to consult anything but his hands, long, slen- 
 der, and white, of which every muscle, every vein, became 
 apparent through the skin at the least movement, and 
 the phalanges reddened at the least irritation. 
 
 This gentleman, then, had arrived alone at Cropole's 
 house. lie had taken, without hesitation, v/ithout reflec- 
 tion even, the principal appartement, which the host had 
 pointed out to him with a rapacious aim, very reprehensi- 
 ble some will say, very praiseworthy will say others, if 
 they admit that Cropole was a physiognomist, and judged 
 people at first sight. 
 
 This appartement was that which composed the whole 
 front of the ancient triangular house, — a large salon, 
 lighted by two windows on the first stage, a small cham- 
 ber by the side of it, and another above it. 
 
 Now, from the time he had arrived this gentleman had 
 scarcely touched any repast that had been served up to 
 him in his chamber. He had spoken but two words to 
 the host, to warn him that a traveller of the name of 
 Parry would arrive, and to desire that, when he did, he 
 should be shown up to him immediately. 
 
 He afterwards preserved so profound a silence, that 
 
THE UNKNOWN. 
 
 49 
 
 Cropole was almost offended, so much did he prefer 
 people who were good company. 
 
 This gentleman had risen early the morning of the day 
 on which this history begins, and had placed himself at 
 the window of his salon, seated upon tlie ledge, and lean- 
 ing upon the rail of the balcony, gazing sadly but per- 
 sistently on both sides of the street, watching, no doubt, 
 for the arrival of the traveller he had mentioned to the 
 host. 
 
 In this way he had seen the little cortege of Monsieur 
 return from hunting, then had again partaken of the 
 profound tranquillity of the street, absorbed in his own 
 expectation. 
 
 All at once the movement of the poor going to the 
 meadows, couriers setting out, washers of pavement, pur- 
 veyors of the royal household, gabbling, scampering shop- 
 boys, chariots in motion, hairdressers on the run, and 
 pages toiling along, — this tumult and bustle had sur- 
 prised him, but without his losing any of that impassible 
 and supreme majesty which gives to the eagle and the lion 
 that serene and contemptuous glance amidst the hurrahs 
 and shouts of hunters or the curious. 
 
 Soon the cries of the victims slaughtered in the poultry- 
 yard ; the hasty steps of Madame Cropole up that little 
 wooden staircase, so narrow and so sonorous ; the bound- 
 ing pace of Pittrino, who only that morning was smoking 
 at the door with all the phlegm of a Dutchman, — all this 
 communicated something like agitation and surprise to 
 the traveller. 
 
 As he was rising to make inquiries, the door of his 
 chamber opened. The unknown concluded they were 
 about to introduce the impatiently expected traveller; 
 with some precipitation, therefore, he took three steps 
 towards the opening door. 
 
 VOL. I. — 4 
 
50 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 But, instead of the person he expected, it was Master 
 Cropole who appeared, and behind him, in the half-dark 
 staircase, the pleasant face of Madame Cropole, rendered 
 trivial by curiosity. She only gave one furtive 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 being pronounced. 
 
 " Monsieur," said Cropole, I come to ask how — what 
 ought I to say : your Lordship, Monsieur the Count, or 
 Monsieur the ^larquis 1 " 
 
 ''Say Monsieur, and speak qnickly," replied the un- 
 known, with that haughty accent which admits of neither 
 discussion nor reply. 
 
 " I came, then, to inquire how Monsieur had passed 
 the night, and if Monsieur intended to keep this ap- 
 partement 1 " 
 
 ''Yes." 
 
 "Monsieur, something has happened upon which vv^e 
 could not reckon." 
 "What?" 
 
 " His Majesty Louis XIY. will enter our city to-day, 
 and will remain here one day, perhaps two." 
 
 Great astonishment was pictured on the countenance of 
 the unknown. 
 
 " The King of France coming to Blois 1 " 
 
 '^ He is on the road. Monsieur." 
 
 " Then there is the stronger reason for my remaining^ 
 said the unknown. 
 
 " Very well ; but will Monsieur keep the entire apparte- 
 ment '( " 
 
 " I do not understand you. Why should I require less 
 to-day than yesterday % " 
 
 " Because, Monsieur, your Lordship will permit me to 
 
THE UNKNOWN. 
 
 51 
 
 say, yesterday I did not think proper, when you chose 
 your lodging, to fix any price that might have made your 
 Lordship believe that I prejudged your resources, while 
 to-day — " 
 
 The unknown colored ; the idea at once struck him 
 that he was supposed to be poor, and that he was 
 insulted. 
 
 While to-day," replied he, coldly, "you do pre- 
 judged" 
 
 " Monsieur, I am a well-meaning man, thank God ! 
 and, simple hotel-keeper as I am, there is in me the 
 blood of a gentleman. My father was a servant and 
 officer of the late Marechal d'Ancre. God rest his 
 soul ! " 
 
 " I do not contest that point with you ; I only wish to 
 know, and that quickly, to what your questions tend ] " 
 
 " You are too reasonable, Monsieur, not to compre- 
 hend that our city is small, that the court is about to 
 invade it, that the houses w^ill be overflowing with in- 
 habitants, and that lodgings will consequently obtain 
 considerable prices." 
 
 Again the unknown colored. Name your terms," 
 said he. 
 
 " I name them w^ith scruple. Monsieur, because I seek 
 an honest gain, and because T wish to carry on my busi- 
 ness without being uncivil or extravagant in my de- 
 mands. Now, the appartement you occupy is considerable, 
 and you are alone." 
 
 " That is my business." 
 
 *^0h, certainly. I do not mean to turn Monsieur 
 out." 
 
 The blood rushed to the temples of the unknown ; he 
 darted at poor Cropole, the descendant of one of the 
 officers of the Marechal d'iVncre, a glance that would have 
 
52 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 buried him beneath that famous chimney-slab, if Cropole 
 had not been nailed to the spot by the question of his 
 own proper interests. 
 
 Do you desire me to go?" said he. '^Explain your- 
 self, — but quickly." 
 
 Monsieur, Monsieur, you do not understand mCc It 
 is very debcate, I know, — that which I am doing. I 
 express myself badly, or, perhaps, as Monsieur is a for- 
 eigner, which I perceive by his accent — " 
 
 In fact, the unknown spoke with that slight difficulty 
 w^ith the letter r, which is the principal characteristic 
 of English pronunciation, even among men of that na- 
 tion who speak the French language with the greatest 
 purity. 
 
 ^'As ]\Ionsieur is a foreigner, T say, it is perhaps he 
 w^ho does not catch my exact meaning. I wish for Mon- 
 sieur to give up one or two of the rooms he occupies, 
 which would diminish his expenses and ease my con- 
 science. Indeed, it is hard to increase unreasonably the 
 price of the chambers, when one has had the honor to 
 let them at a reasonable price." 
 
 How much does the hire amount to since yesterday 1" 
 
 " Monsieur, to one louis, with refreshments and the 
 charge for the horse." 
 
 " Very well ; and that of to-day ? " 
 
 " Ah ! there is the difficulty. This is the day of the 
 king's arrival ; if the court comes to sleep here, the 
 charge of the day is reckoned. From that it results that 
 three chambers, at two louis each, make 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 
 
THE UNKNOWN. 
 
 53 
 
 embroidered with a coat-of-arms, which he carefully con- 
 cealed in the hollow of his hand. This parse was of a 
 thinness, a fiabbiness, a hollovvness, which did not es- 
 cape the eye of Cropole. 
 
 The unknown emptied the purse into his hand. It 
 contained three double louis, 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 thenT' 
 
 " There remains one louis, does there not, master host ? " 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur, but — " 
 
 The unknown plunged his hand into the pocket of his 
 haut-cle-chausses and emptied it. It contained a small 
 pocket-book, a gold key, and some silver. With this 
 change he made up a louis. 
 
 " Thank you, Monsieur," said Cropole. " It now only 
 remains for me to ask whether Monsieur intends to oc- 
 cupy his appartement to-morrow, in which case I will 
 reserve it for him ; wdiereas, if Monsieur does not mean 
 to do so, I will promise it to some of the king's people 
 who are coming." 
 
 " That is but right," said the unknown, after a long 
 silence ; " but as I have no more money, as you have 
 seen, and as I yet must retain the appartement, you 
 must either sell this diamond in the city, or hold it in 
 pledge." 
 
 Cropole looked at the diamond so long that the un- 
 known said hastily : " I prefer your selHng it. Monsieur, 
 for it is worth three hundred pistoles. A Jew — are 
 there any Jews in Blois 1 — would give you two hundred 
 or a hundred and fifty for it. Take whatever may be 
 offered for it, if it be no more than the price of your 
 lodging. Begone ! " 
 
54 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 "Oh, Monsieur," replied Cropole, ashamed of the sud- 
 den inferiority which the unknown retorted upon hira by 
 tliis noble and disinterested confidence, as well as by the 
 unalterable patience opposed to so many suspicions and 
 evasions, — " Oh, Monsieur, I hope people are not so dis- 
 honest at Blois as you seem to think ; and that the 
 diamond, being worth what you say — " 
 
 The unknown here again darted at Cropole one of his 
 eloquent glances. 
 
 I really do not understand diamonds, Monsieur, I 
 assure you," cried he. 
 
 " But the jewellers do ; ask them," said the unknown. 
 " Now I believe our accounts are settled, are they not, 
 Monsieur host 1 " 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur, and to my profound regret, for I 
 fear I have offended Monsieur." 
 
 " Not at all," replied the unknown, with ineffable 
 majesty. 
 
 Or have appeared to be extortionate w^ith a noble 
 traveller. 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, which proved that he had a good heart and 
 felt genuine remorse. 
 
 The unknown himself shut the door after him, and, 
 when left alone, looked mournfully at the bottom of the 
 purse, from which he had taken a small silken bag con- 
 taining the diamond, his last resource. 
 
 He dwelt likewise upon the emptiness of his pockets, 
 turned over the papers in his pocket-book, and convinced 
 himself of the state of absolute destitution in which he 
 was about to be plunged. 
 
THE UNKNOWN. 55 
 t • 
 
 He raised his eyes towards heaven, with a sublime 
 emotion of despairing calmness, brushed off with his 
 trembling hand some drops of sweat which trickled over 
 his noble brow, and then cast dow^n upon the earth a 
 look which just before had been impressed wdth almost 
 divine majesty. 
 
 The storm had passed far from him ; perhaps he had 
 prayed from the bottom of his soul. 
 
 He drew near to the window, resumed his place in the 
 balcony, and remained there, motionless, annihilated, 
 dead, till the moment when, the heavens beginning to 
 darken, the first flambeaux traversed the perfumed 
 street, and gave the signal for illumination to all the 
 windows of the city. 
 
56 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 PARRY. 
 
 While the unknown was viewing these lights with in- 
 terest, and lending an ear to the various noises, Master 
 Cropole entered the appartement, followed by two attend- 
 ants, who laid the cloth for his meal. 
 
 The stranger did not pay them the least attention ; 
 but Cropole, approaching him respectfully, whispered, 
 Monsieur, the diamond has been valued." 
 " Ah ! " said the traveller. Well ^ 
 Well, Monsieur, the jeweller of his royal Highness 
 gives two hundred and eighty pistoles for it." 
 Have you them ^ " 
 
 I thought it best to take them. Monsieur ; never- 
 theless, I made it a condition 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 sold it, I have touched the money." 
 
 Pay yourself," added the unknown. 
 " I will do so. Monsieur, since you so positively re- 
 quire it." 
 
 A sad smile passed over the lips of the gentleman. 
 
 " Place the money on that trunk," said he, turning 
 round and pointing to the piece of furniture. 
 
 Cropole deposited a tolerably large bag as directed, 
 after having taken from it the amount of his reckoning. 
 
PAKRY. 
 
 57 
 
 Now," said he, I hope Monsieur will not give me 
 the pain of not taking any supper. Diuner has already 
 been refused ; this is affronting to the house of the 
 ^Medici. Look, Monsieur, the supper is on the table, 
 and I venture to say that it looks attractive." 
 
 The unknown asked for a glass of wine, broke off a 
 morsel of bread, and did not stir from the window while 
 he ate and drank. 
 
 Shortly after was heard a loud flourish of trumpets ; 
 cries arose in the distance, a confused buzzhig filled the 
 lower part of the city, and the first distinct sound that 
 struck the ears of the stranger was the tramp of advan- 
 cing horses. 
 
 ^' The king ! the king ! " repeated a noisy and eager crowd. 
 The king ! " cried Cropole, abandoning his guest and 
 his ideas of delicacy to satisfy his curiosity. 
 
 With. Cropole were mingled and jostled, on the stair- 
 case, Madame Cropole, Pittrino, and the waiters and 
 scullions. 
 
 The cortege advanced slowly, lighted by a thousand 
 flambeaux in the street and at the windows. 
 
 After a company of musketeers, and a closely ranked 
 troop of gentlemen, came the litter of M. le Cardinal 
 Mazarin, drawn like a carriage by four black horses. The 
 pages and people of the cardinal marched behind. 
 
 Next came the carriage of the queen-mother, with her 
 maids of honor at the doors, her gentlemen on horseback 
 at both sides. 
 
 The king then appeared, mounted upon a splendid 
 horse of Saxon race, with a flowing mane. The young 
 prince exhibited, when bowing toward some windows from 
 which issued the most animated acclamations, a noble 
 and handsome countenance illumined by the flambeaux 
 of his pages. 
 
58 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 On either side of the king, though a little in the rear, 
 the Prince de Conde, M. Dangeau, and twenty other 
 courtiers, followed by their people and their baggage, 
 closed this veritably triumphant march. The pomp was 
 of a military character. 
 
 Some of the courtiers — the elder ones, for instance — 
 w^ore travelling dresses ; but all the rest were clothed 
 in warlike panoply. Many wore the gorget and buff coat 
 of the times of Henry IV. and Louis XIII. 
 
 When the king passed before him, the unknown, who 
 had leaned forward over the balcony to obtain a better 
 view, aiid who had concealed his face by leaning on his 
 arm, felt his heart swell and overflow with a bitter 
 jealousy. f\ I 
 
 The noise of the trumpets excited him, the popular 
 acclamations deafened him ; for a moment he allowed 
 his reason to be absorbed in this flood of lights, 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, all the splendor, had passed away. At the 
 angle of the street there remained nothing 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 the hostelry of the Medici ; that is to 
 say, two for Cropole, two for Pittrino, and one for each 
 scullion. Cropole never ceased repeating, " How good- 
 looking the king is ! How strongly he resembles his 
 illustrious father ! " 
 
 A handsome likeness ! " said Pittrino. 
 " And what a lofty carriage he has ! " added Madame 
 Cropole, already in promiscuous commentary with her 
 neighbors of both sexes. 
 
\ 
 
 PARRY. 59 
 
 Cropole was feeding their gossip with his own personal 
 remarks, without observing that an old man on foot, but 
 leading a small Irish horse by the bridle, was endeavor- 
 ing to penetrate the crowd of men and women which 
 blocked up the entrance to the Medici. But at that 
 moment the voice of the stranger was heard from the 
 window. 
 
 "Make way, Monsieur host, to the entrance of your 
 house ! " 
 
 Cropole turned round, and on seeing the old man, 
 cleared a passage for him. 
 
 The window was instantly closed. 
 
 Pittrino pointed out the way to the newly arrived 
 guest, who entered without uttering a word. 
 
 The stranger waited for him on the landing. He opened 
 his arms to the old man; and would have led him to a 
 seat ; but he resisted. 
 
 " Oh, no, no, my Lord ! " said he. Sit down in your 
 presence '? — never ! " 
 
 u Parry," cried the gentleman, " I beg you will ; you 
 come from England, — you come so for. Ah! it is not 
 for your age to undergo the fatigues my service requires. 
 Rest yourself." 
 
 " I have my reply to give your Lordship, in the first 
 place." 
 
 "Parry. I conjure you tell me nothing; for if your 
 news had been good, you would not have begun in such 
 a manner. You hesitate, which proves that the news 
 is bad." 
 
 "My Lord," said the old man, "do not hasten to 
 alarm yourself; all is not lost, I hope. There is need 
 of energy, of perseverance, but more particularly of 
 resignation." 
 
 " Parry," said the young man, " I have reached this 
 
60 THE VIGOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 place through a thousand snares and after a thousand 
 difficulties : can you doubt my energy 1 I have medi- 
 tated this journey ten years, in spite of all counsels and 
 all obstacles : have you faith in my perseverance 1 I 
 have this evening sold the last of my father's diamonds; 
 for I had nothing wherewith to pny for my lodgings, and 
 my host was about to turn me out." 
 
 Parry made a gesture of indignation, to which the 
 young man replied by a pressure of the hand and a 
 smile. 
 
 I have still two hundred and seventy-four pistoles left, 
 and I feel myself rich. I do not despair. Parry : have 
 you faith in my resignation 1 " 
 
 The old man raised his trembling hands towards heaven. 
 
 " Let me know," said the stranger, — " disguise nothing 
 from me — what has happened." 
 
 ^' My recital w^ill be short, my Lord ; but, in the name 
 of Heaven, do not tremble 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." 
 
 ^'Welir' 
 
 He received it, and read it, my Lord.'* 
 Did that letter thoroughly explain my position and 
 my views 1 " 
 
 " Oh yes ! " said Parry, wdth a sad smile ; " it faithfully 
 pictured your very thoughts." 
 Well — then, Parry 
 
 " Then the general sent me back the letter by an aide- 
 de-camp, informing me that if I were found the next day 
 within the circumscription of his command, he would 
 have me arrested." 
 
PAERY. 
 
 61 
 
 Arrested ! murmured the young man. What ! 
 arrest you, my most faithful servant 
 **Yes, my Lord." 
 
 And notwithstanding you had signed the name 
 Parry '? " 
 
 " Plainly, 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. 
 
 "x\y, that's what he did before his people," said he, 
 endeavoring to cheat himself with hopes. But privately 
 — betw^een you and him — what did he do ] Answer ! " 
 
 Alas ! my Lord, he sent to me four cavaliers, who gave 
 me the horse with w^hich you just now^ saW' me come back. 
 These cavaliers conducted me, in great haste, to the little 
 port of Tenby, threw me rather than embarked me into a 
 fishing-boat about to sail for Brittany, and here I am." 
 
 " Oh ! sighed the young man, clasping his neck con- 
 vulsively with his hand, and with a sob, Parry, is that 
 ain — is that alU" 
 
 " Yes, my Lord ; that is all." 
 
 After this brief reply ensued a long interval of silence, 
 broken only by the convulsive beating of the heel of the 
 young man on the floor. 
 
 The old man endeavored to change the conversation : 
 it was leading to thoughts much too sinister. 
 
 " My Lord," said he, what is the meaning of all the 
 noise which preceded me ] What are these people crjang 
 ^ Vive le Roi ! ' for '? What king do they mean, and what 
 are all these lights for % " 
 
 " Ah, Parry," replied the young man, ironically, don't 
 you know that this is the King of France visiting his good 
 city of Blois 1 All those trumpets are his ; all those gilded 
 housings are his ; all those gentlemen w^ear sw^ords that are 
 
62 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 his. His mother precedes him in a carriage magnificently 
 incrusted with silver and gold. Happy mother ! His min- 
 ister heaps up millions, and conducts him to a rich bride. 
 Then all these people rejoice ; they love their king, they 
 hail him with their acclamations, and they cry, ' Yive le 
 Roi ! Yive le Roi ! 
 
 ^' Well, well, my Lord," said Parry, more uneasy at this 
 turn of the conversation than he had been before. 
 
 You know," resumed the unknown, " that my mother 
 and my sister, while all this is going on in honor of the 
 King of France, have neither money nor bread ; you know 
 that I myself shall be poor and degraded within a fort- 
 night, when all Europe will become acquainted with what 
 you have told me. Parrj^, are there not examples in 
 which a man of my condition should 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 % AYhat every one in 
 my family does. My mother lives on public charity ; my 
 sister begs for my mother ; I have^ somewhere or other, 
 brothers w^ho equally beg for themselves ; and I, the 
 eldest^ 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 and terrible laugh, the young man girded on 
 his sword, took his hat from the trunk, fastened to his 
 shoulder a black cloak, which he had worn during all his 
 journe}^, and pressing the hands of the old man, who 
 watched his proceedings with a look of anxiety, — 
 
PARRY. 
 
 63 
 
 My good Parry/' said he, order a fire. Drink, eat, 
 sleep, and be bappy ; let us both be happy, my faithful 
 friend, my only friend. We are rich, as rich as kings ! " 
 
 He struck the bag of pistoles with his clenched hands 
 as he spoke, and it fell heavily to the ground. He re- 
 sumed that dismal laugh which had so alarmed Parry ; and 
 while the whole household was screaming, singing, and 
 preparing to install the travellers who had been preceded 
 by their lackeys, he glided out by the principal entrance 
 into the street, where the old man, who had gone to the 
 window, lost sight of him in a moment. 
 
64 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 WHAT HIS MAJESTY KING LOUIS XIV. VfAS AT THE AGE OF 
 TWENTY-TWO. 
 
 It has been seen^ by the account we have endeavored to 
 give of it, that the entree of King Louis XIV. into the 
 city of Blois had been noisy and brilhant ; his young Ma- 
 jesty had therefore appeared perfectly satisfied with it. 
 
 On arriving beneath the porch of the Castle of the 
 States, the king met; surronnded by his guards and gen- 
 tlemen, with liis royal Highness the Duke, Gaston of Or- 
 leans, whose physiognomy, naturally rather majestic, had 
 borrowed on this solemn occasion a fresh lustre and a 
 fresh dignity. On her part, Madame, dressed in her 
 robes of ceremonj^, awaited, in the interior balcony, the 
 entrance of her nephew\ All the windows of the old 
 castle, so deserted and dismal on ordinar}^ days, were 
 resplendent with ladies and lights. 
 
 It was, then, to the sound of drums, trumpets, and vi- 
 vats, that the yonng king crossed the threshold of that 
 castle in which, seventy-two years before, Henry III. had 
 called in the aid of assassination and treachery to keep 
 npon his head and in his house a crown which was already 
 slipping from his brow to fall into another family. 
 
 All eyes, after having admired the young king, so 
 handsome and so agreeable, sought for that other king 
 of France, — a king very unlike the former, and so 
 old, so pale, so bent, th.it people called him the Cardinal 
 Mazarin. 
 
LOUIS XIV. 
 
 65 
 
 Louis was at this time endowed with all the natural 
 gifts which make the perfect gentleman. His eye was 
 brilliant, mild, and of a clear azure blue ; but the most 
 skilful physiognomists, those divers into the soul^ on fix- 
 ing their looks upon it, — if it had been possible for a sub- 
 ject to sustain the glance of the king, — the most skilful 
 physiognomists, we say, w^ould never have been able to 
 fathom the depths of that abyss of mildness. It was 
 with the eyes of the king as with the immense depth of 
 the azure heavens, or with those depths, more terrific and 
 almost as sublime, which the Mediterranean reveals under 
 the keels of its ships in a clear summer day, — a gigantic 
 mirror in which heaven delights to reflect sometimes its 
 stars, sometimes its storms. 
 
 The king was short of stature, — he was scarcely five 
 feet two inches ; but his youth extenuated this defect, set 
 off likewise by great nobleness in all his movements and 
 by considerable address in all bodily exercises. 
 
 Certainly he was already quite a king, and it was a 
 great thing to be a king in that period of traditional 
 devotedness and respect ; but as up to that time he had 
 been but seldom and always but poorly shown to the 
 people, since they to whom he w^as shown saw him by the 
 side of his mother, a tall woman, and Monsieur the Car- 
 dinal, a man of fine presence, many found him so little 
 of a king as to say, " Why, the king is not so much of 
 a man as Monsieur the Cardinal ! " 
 
 Whatever may be thought of these physical observa- 
 tions, which were principally made in the capital, the 
 young king was welcomed as a god by the 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 of reception chairs of equal height placed for him- 
 
 VOL. I. — 5 
 
66 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BEAGELONNE. 
 
 self, his mother, the cardinal, and his uncle and aunt, — 
 an arrangement artfully concealed by the semicircidar 
 form of the assembly, — Louis XIV. became red with 
 anger, and looked around him to ascertain, by the coun- 
 tenances of those that were present if this humiliation 
 had been intentionally devised. But as he saw nothing 
 upon the impassive visage of the cardinal, nothing on 
 that of 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 Monsieur the Cardinal. 
 
 The king remarked that his mother and he scarcely 
 knew the names of any of the persons who were presented 
 to them ; while the cardinal, on the contrary, never failed, 
 with an admirable memory and presence of mind, to talk 
 to every one about his estates, his ancestors, or his chil- 
 dren, 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 his subjects, 
 for the same reason that the sun has no rival, because 
 the sun alone warms and gives light. 
 
 The study of the young king, which had begun a long 
 time before without anybody suspecting it, was con- 
 tinued then ; and he looked around him attentively, to 
 endeavor to make out something in the physiognomies 
 which had at first appeared the most insignificant and 
 trivial. 
 
 A collation was served. The king, without daring to 
 call upon the hospitality of his uncle, had waited for it 
 impatiently. This time, therefore, he had all the honors 
 due, if not to his rank, at least to his appetite. 
 
 As to the cardinal, he contented himself with touching 
 with his withered lips a bouillon^ served in a gold cup. 
 
LOUIS XIV. 
 
 67 
 
 The all-powerful minister, who had taken her regency 
 from the queen and his royalty from the king, had not 
 been able to take from Nature a good stomach. 
 
 Anne of Austria, already suffering from the cancer 
 which six or eight years after caused her death, ate very 
 little more than the cardinal. 
 
 As to Monsieur, already puffed up with the great event 
 which had taken place in his provincial life, he ate noth- 
 ing whatever. 
 
 Madame alone, like a true Lorrainer, kept pace with 
 his Majesty ] so that Louis XIV., who, without this 
 partner, might have eaten nearly alone, was at first 
 much pleased with his aunt, and afterwards with M. de 
 Saint-Eemy, her maitre dliotel^ who had really distin- 
 guished himself. 
 
 The collation over, at a sign of approbation from 
 M. de Mazarin, the king arose, and, at the invitation 
 of his aunt, walked about among the ranks of the 
 assembly. 
 
 The ladies then observed — there are certain things 
 for which women are as good observers at Blois as at 
 Paris — the ladies then observed that Louis XIY. had 
 a prompt and bold look, which premised a distinguished 
 appreciator of beauty. The men, on their part, observed 
 that the prince was proud and haughty, — that he loved 
 to look down those who fixed their eyes 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 ears were struck with a word which his 
 Eminence pronounced while conversing with Monsieur. 
 
 This word was the name of a woman. 
 
 Scarcely had Louis XIV. heard this word than he 
 heard, or rather listened to, nothing else ; and neglecting 
 the arc of the circle which awaited his visit, his object 
 
68 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 seemed to be to come as quickly as possible to the ex- 
 tremity of the curve. 
 
 Monsieur, like a good courtier, was inquiring of Mon- 
 sieur the Cardinal after the health of his nieces, — for, 
 five or six years before, three nieces to the cardinal had 
 arrived from Italy ; they were Mesdemoiselles Hortense, 
 Olympe, and Marie de Mancini. Monsieur, then, in- 
 quired of the cardinal concerning the health of his nieces ; 
 he regretted, he said, not having the pleasure of receiving 
 them at the same time with their uncle ; they must cer- 
 tainly have grown in stature, beauty, and grace, as they 
 had promised to do the last time Monsieur had seen 
 them. 
 
 What had first struck the king was a certain contrast 
 in the voices of the two interlocutors. The voice of Mon- 
 sieur was calm and natural while he spoke thus, while 
 that of^M. de Mazarin in reply jumped by a note and 
 a half above his ordinary tone. It might have been said 
 that he wished that voice to strike, at the end of the 
 salon, an ear that was receding too far. 
 
 " Monseigneur," replied he, ^' Mesdemoiselles de Maza- 
 rin have still to finish their education ; they have duties 
 to fulfil, and a position to make. An abode in a young 
 and brilliant court tends to frivolity." 
 
 Louis, at this last sentence, smiled sadly. The court 
 was young, it was true, but the avarice of the cardinal 
 had taken good care that it should not be brilliant. 
 
 " You have, nevertheless, no intention," replied Mon- 
 sieur, ^' to cloister them or make them bourgeoises ? " 
 
 ^' Not at all," replied the cardinal, forcing his Italian 
 pronunciation in such a manner that, from being soft and 
 velvety, it became sharp and vibrating, — " not at all ; 
 I have a full and fixed intention to marry them, and that 
 as well as I shall be able." 
 
LOUIS XIV. 
 
 69 
 
 " Parties will not be wanting, Monsieur the Cardinal," 
 replied Monsieur, with a honhommie worthy of one trades- 
 man congratulating another. 
 
 " I hope not, Monseigneur ; and the more confidently 
 since God has been pleased to give them grace, intelli- 
 gence, and beauty." 
 
 During this conversation Louis XIV., conducted by 
 Madame, accomplished, as we have described, the circle 
 of presentations. 
 
 Mademoiselle Arnoux," said the princess, presenting 
 to his Majesty a fat, fair girl of two-and-twenty, who at a 
 village fete might have been taken for a peasant in Sunday 
 finery, — the daughter of my music-mistress." 
 
 The king smiled. Madame had never been able to ex- 
 tract four correct notes from either viol or harpsichord. 
 
 " Mademoiselle Aure de Montalais," continued Madame ; 
 " a young lady of rank, and my good attendant." 
 
 This time it was not the king that smiled ; it was the 
 young lady presented, because, for the first time in her 
 life, she heard given to her by Madame, who generally 
 showed no tendency to spoil her, such an honorable 
 qualification. 
 
 Our old acquaintance Montalais, therefore, made his 
 Majesty a profound courtesy, the more respectful from 
 the necessity she was under of concealing certain contrac- 
 tions of her laughing lips, which the king might not have 
 attributed to their real cause. 
 
 It was just at this moment that the king caught the 
 word which startled him. 
 
 " And the name of the third % " asked Monsieur. 
 Marie, Monseigneur," replied the cardinal. 
 
 There was doubtless some magical influence in that 
 word ; for, as we have said, the king started at hearing 
 it, and drew Madame towards the middle of the circle, as 
 
70 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BEAGELONNE. 
 
 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 sup- 
 pressed voice, my geography master did not teach me 
 that Blois was at such an immense distance from Paris." 
 
 " What do you mean, Nephew 1 " asked Madame. 
 
 " Why, because it would appear that it requires several 
 years for fashions 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, smil- 
 ing ; " for the second 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 to their 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 ? W^ell, that is 
 strange ! It never struck me." 
 
 " Now, look, Aunt," said Louis XIY., drawing still 
 nearer to Mazarin, under the pretext of gaining a better 
 point of view, " look at that simple white dress by the 
 side of those antiquated specimens of finery and those 
 pretentious coiff*ures. She is probably one of my mother's 
 maids of honor, though I don't know her. See what an 
 artless figure, what gracious manners ! Well, now, that 
 is a woman ; all the rest are only clothes." 
 
 " Ah ! ah ! my dear nephew ! " replied Madame, laugh- 
 ing ; " permit me to tell you that your divinatory science 
 
LOUIS XIV. 
 
 71 
 
 is at fault for once. The young lady you 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, approached them, timid and blushing, and almost 
 bent beneath the royal glance. 
 
 " Mademoiselle Louise Frangoise de la Beaurae Leblanc, 
 daughter of the Marquis de la Yalliere," said Madame, 
 ceremoniously. 
 
 The young girl bowed with so much grace, mingled 
 wath the profound timidity inspired by the presence of 
 the king, that the latter lost, while looking at her, a few 
 words of the conversation of Monsieur and the cardinal. 
 
 Daughter-in-law," continued Madame, of M. de 
 Saint-Remy, my maitre d^hdtel, w^ho presided over the con- 
 fection of that excellent dauhe truffee which your Majesty 
 seemed so much to appreciate." 
 
 No grace, no youth, no beauty, could stand out against 
 such a presentation. The king smiled. Whether the 
 words of Madame were a pleasantry, or uttered in all in- 
 nocence, they proved the pitiless immolation of everything 
 that Louis had found charming or poetic in the young 
 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 a superior talent over dindes 
 truffees. 
 
 But princes are thus constituted. The gods, too, were 
 just like this in Olympus. Diana and Venus, no doubt, 
 abused the beautiful Alcmena and poor lo, when they de- 
 scended, for distraction's sake, to speak, amid nectar and 
 ambrosia, of mortal beauties at the table of Jupiter. 
 
 Fortunately, Louise was so bent in her reverential sa- 
 lute that she did not catch either Madame's words or 
 
72 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 the king's smile. In fact, if the poor child, who had so 
 much good taste as alone to have chosen to dress herself 
 in white amidst all her companions, — if that dove's heart, 
 so easily accessible to painful emotions, had been touched 
 by the cruel words of Madame or the egotistical cold 
 smile of the king, it would have annihilated her. 
 
 And Montalais herself, the girl of ingenious ideas, would 
 not have attempted to recall her to life; for ridicule kills 
 beauty even. 
 
 But fortunately, as we have said, Louise, w^hose ears 
 w^ere buzzing, and whose eyes were veiled by timidity, — 
 Louise saw nothing and heard nothing ; and the king, who 
 had his attention still directed to the conversation of the 
 cardinal and his uncle, hastened to return to them. 
 
 He came up just at the moment Mazarin terminated by 
 saying : iNlarie, as well as her sisters, has just set off for 
 Brouage. I make them follow the bank of the Loire op- 
 posite to that along which we have travelled ; and if I 
 calculate their progress correctly, according to the orders 
 I have given, they will to-morrow be opposite Blois.'^ 
 
 These words were pronounced with that tact — that 
 measure, that distinctness of tone, of intention and reach 
 — which made Signor Giulio Mazarini the first comedian 
 in the w^orld. 
 
 It resulted that they went straight to the heart of 
 Louis XIV., and that the cardinal, on turning round at 
 the simple noise of the approaching footsteps of his 
 Majesty, saw the immediate effect of them upon the 
 countenance of his pupil, — an effect betrayed to the keen 
 eyes of his Eminence by a slight increase of color. But 
 what was the ventilating of such a secret to him whose 
 craft had for twenty years deceived all the diplomatists 
 of Europe ? 
 
 Fram the moment the young king heard these last 
 
LOUIS XIV. 
 
 73 
 
 words, he appeared as if he had received a poisoned arrow 
 ill his heart. He could not remain quiet in one place, 
 but cast around an uncertain, dead, and aimless look over 
 the assembly. He with his eyes interrogated his mother 
 more than twenty times ; but she, given up to the pleas- 
 ure of conversing with her sister-in-law, and likewise con- 
 strained by the glance of Mazarin, did not appear to 
 comprehend any of the supplications conveyed by the 
 looks of her son. 
 
 From this moment, music, lights, flowers, beauties, all 
 became odious and insipid to Louis XIY. After he had 
 a hundred times bitten his lips, stretched his legs and his 
 arms like a well-bred child who, without daring to gape, 
 exhausts all the modes of evincing his weariness, with- 
 out having uselessly again implored his mother and the 
 minister, he turned a despairing look towards the door, — 
 that is to say, towards liberty. 
 
 At this door, leaning against the embrasure, he saw, 
 standing out strongly, a figure with a brown and lofty 
 countenance, an aquiline nose, a stern but brilliant eye, 
 gray and long hair, a black mustache, — the true type 
 of military beauty, — whose gorget, more sparkling than 
 a mirror, broke all the reflected lights which concentrated 
 upon it, and sent them back in flashes. This officer wore 
 his gray hat with its long red plume upon his head, — a 
 proof that he was called there by duty, and not by pleasure. 
 If he had been brought thither by pleasure, if he had been 
 a courtier instead of a soldier, — as pleasure must always 
 be paid for at some price, — he would have held his hat 
 in his hand. 
 
 What proved still better that this officer was upon 
 duty, and was accomplishing a task to which he was 
 accustomed, was that he watched, with folded arms, 
 remarkable indiff'erence, and supreme apathy, the joys 
 
74 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE, 
 
 and ennuis of this fete. Above all, he appeared, — like 
 a philosopher, and all old soldiers are philosophers, — 
 he appeared, above all, to comprehend the ennuis in- 
 finitely better than the joys ; but in the one he took 
 his part, knowing very well how to do without the 
 other. 
 
 Now, he was leaning, as we have said, against the 
 carved door-frame when the melancholy, w^eary eyes of 
 tlie king by chance met his. 
 
 It was not the first time, as it appeared, that the eyes 
 of the officer had met those eyes, and he was perfectly 
 acquainted with the expression of them ; for as soon as 
 he had cast his own look upon the countenance of Louis 
 XIV., and had read by it what was passing in his heart, 
 — that is to say, all the ennui that oppressed him, all 
 the timid desire to go out which agitated him, — he 
 perceived he must render the king a service vrithout 
 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 the promenaders, the cardinal and the queen- 
 mother looked at the king with surprise. 
 
 Louis XI v., pale but resolved, supported as he was 
 by that intuition of his own thought which he had found 
 in the mind of the officer of Musketeers, and which he 
 had just manifested by the order given, arose from his 
 chair, and took a step towards the door. 
 
 Are you going, my son 1 " said the queen, while 
 Mazarin satisfied himself with interrogating by a look 
 which might have appeared mild if it had not been so 
 piercing. 
 
LOUIS XIV. 
 
 75 
 
 Yes, Madame," replied the king ; I am fatigued, 
 and, besides, wish to write this evening." 
 
 A smile stole over the lips of the minister, who ap- 
 peared, by a bend of the head, to give the king 
 permission. 
 
 Monsieur and Madame hastened to give orders to the 
 officers who presented themselves. 
 
 The king bowed, crossed the hall, and gained the door, 
 where a hedge of twenty musketeers awaited him. At 
 the extremity of this hedge stood the officer, 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 antecham- 
 bers and the steps, made way for his Majesty. The other 
 ten surrounded the king and Monsieur, who had insisted 
 upon accompanying his Majesty. The domestics walked 
 behind. This little cortege escorted the king to the 
 chamber destined for him. The appartement was the 
 same that had been occupied by Henry 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 castle communicates with the 
 other. The beginning of this passage was a small, square 
 antechamber, dark even in the finest days. Monsieur 
 stopped Louis XIY. 
 
 You are passing now. Sire," said he, the very spot 
 where the Due de Guise received the first stab of the 
 poniard." 
 
 The king was ignorant of all historical matters; he 
 had heard of the fact, but he knew nothing of the 
 localities or the details. 
 
 Ah ! " said he, with a shudder. 
 
76 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 And he stopped. The rest, both behind him and be- 
 fore him, stopped hkewise. 
 
 The duke, Sire," continued Gaston, ^' was nearly where 
 I stand ; he was walking in the same direction as your 
 Majesty ; M. de Lorgnes was exactly where your lieu- 
 tenant of Musketeers is ; M. de Saint-Maline and his 
 Majesty's Ordinaries were behind him and around him. 
 It was here that he was struck." 
 
 The king turned towards his officer, and saw something 
 like a cloud pass over his martial and daring countenance. 
 
 ^*Yes, from behind 1 " murmured the lieutenant, with 
 a gesture of supreme disdain ; and he endeavored to re- 
 sume the march, as if ill at ease at being between walls 
 formerly defiled by treachery. 
 
 But the king, who appeared to wish to be informed, 
 was disposed to give another look at this dismal spot. 
 
 Gaston perceived his nephew's desire. 
 
 " Look, Sire ! "said he, taking a flambeau from the hands 
 of M. de Saint-Remy ; this is where he fell. There was 
 a bed there, the curtains of which he tore with catching 
 at them." 
 
 " Why does the floor seem hollowed out at this spot 1 " 
 asked Louis. 
 
 Because it was here the blood flowed," replied Gaston. 
 " The blood penetrated deeply into the oak, and it was only 
 by cutting it out that they succeeded in making it dis- 
 appear ; and even then," added Gaston, pointing the flam- 
 beau to the spot, — " even then this red stain resisted 
 all the attempts made to destroy it." 
 
 Louis XIV. raised his head. Perhaps he was thinking 
 of that bloody trace which had once been shown him at 
 the Louvre, and which, as a pendant to that of Blois, had 
 been made there one day by the king his father with the 
 blood of Concini. 
 
LOUIS XIV. 
 
 77 
 
 Let us go on," said he. 
 
 The march was resumed promptly ; for emotion, no 
 doubt, had given to the voice of the young prince a tone 
 of command which was not customary with him. When 
 arrived at the appartement destined for the king, which 
 communicated 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 appartement, all unworthy as it is to receive 
 your' 
 
 ^' Uncle," replied the young king, ^' I render you my 
 thanks for your cordial hospitality." 
 
 Gaston bowed to his nephew, w'ho embraced him, and 
 then went out. 
 
 Of the twenty musketeers who had accompanied the 
 king, ten reconducted Monsieur to the reception-rooms, 
 which were not yet empty, notwithstanding the king had 
 retired. 
 
 The ten others were posted by their officer, who him- 
 self explored, in five minutes, all the localities, with that 
 cold and certain glance which not even habit gives unless 
 that glance belong to genius. Then, when all were placed, 
 he chose as his headquarters the antechamber, in which 
 he found a large fauteiiil, a lamp, some wine, some w^ater, 
 and some dry bread. He revived the light, drank half a 
 glass of wine, curled his lip with a smile full of expression, 
 installed himself in his large arm-chair^ and made prepa- 
 rations for sleeping. 
 
78 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 IN WHICH THE UNKNOWN OF THE HOSTELRY OF THE 
 MEDICI LOSES HIS INCOGNITO. 
 
 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 which came from Paris, and that com- 
 pany consisted of a hundred and twenty men ; but, with 
 the exception of the twenty of whom we have spoken, the 
 other hundred were engaged in guarding the queen- 
 mother, and more particularly the cardinal. 
 
 Monsignor Giulio Mazarini economized the travelling 
 expenses of his guards ; he consequently used the king's, 
 and that largely, since he took fifty of them for himself, — 
 a peculiarity which would not have failed to strike any 
 one unacquainted with the usages of that court. 
 
 What would to a stranger still further have appeared, 
 if not inconvenient, at least extraordinary, was that the 
 side of the castle destined for Monsieur the Cardinal was 
 brilliant, light, and cheerful. The musketeers there 
 mounted guard before every door, and allowed no one to 
 enter except the couriers, who, even while he was travel- 
 ling, followed the cardinal for the carrying on of his 
 correspondence. 
 
 Twenty men were on duty with the queen-mother; ' 
 thirty rested, in order to relieve their companions the 
 next day. 
 
THE UNKNOWN LOSES HIS INCOGNITO. 
 
 79 
 
 On the king's side, on the contrary, were darkness, 
 silence, and solitude. When once the doors were closed, 
 there was no longer an appearance of royalty. All the 
 servitors had by degrees retired. Monsieur the Prince 
 had sent to know if his Majesty required his attendance ; 
 and on the customary " No " of the lieutenant of Muske- 
 teers, who was habituated to the question and the reply, 
 all prepared to sink into the arms of sleep, as if in the 
 dwelling of a good citizen. 
 
 And yet it was possible to hear from the side of tho 
 house occupied by the young king the music of the ban- 
 quet, and to see the windows of the great hall richly 
 illuminated. 
 
 Ten minutes after his installation in his appartement, 
 Louis XIV. had been able to learn, by a movement much 
 more distinguished than that which marked his own de- 
 parture, the departure of the cardinal, who, in his turn, 
 sought his bedroom, accompanied by a large escort of 
 ladies and gentlemen. 
 
 Besides, to perceive this movement, he had nothing to 
 do but to look out at his window, the shutters of which 
 had not been closed. 
 
 His Eminence crossed the court, conducted by Mon- 
 sieur, who himself held a flambeau ; then followed the 
 queen-mother, to whom Madame familiarly gave her arm ; 
 and both walked chatting away like two old friends. 
 
 Behind these two couples filed nobles, ladies, pages, and 
 officers ; flambeaux gleamed over the whole court, like the 
 moving reflections of a conflagration. Then the noise of 
 steps and voices became lost in the upper floors of the 
 castle. 
 
 No one was then thinking of the king, who, leaning on 
 his elbow at the window, had sadly seen all that light 
 pass away, and heard that noise die off, — no, not one, if 
 
80 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 it was not that unknown of the hostelry of the Medici, 
 whom we have seen go out enveloped in his cloak. 
 
 He had come straight up to the castle, and had, with 
 his melancholy countenance, wandered round and round 
 the palace, from which the people had not yet departed ; 
 and finding that no one guarded the great entrance, or the 
 porchj seeing that the soldiers of Monsieur were frater- 
 nizing with the royal soldiers, — that is to say, swallowing 
 Beaugency at discretion, or rather indiscretion — the im- 
 known penetrated through the crowd, then ascended to 
 the court, and came to the landing of the staircase lead- 
 ing to the cardinal's apartment. 
 
 What, according to all probability, induced him to di- 
 rect his steps that w^ay, was the splendor of the flambeaux, 
 and the busy air of the pages and domestics. But he was 
 stopped short by a presented musket and the cry of the 
 sentinel. 
 
 " Where are you going, my friend 1 " asked the soldier. 
 
 " I am going to the king's appartement," replied the 
 unknown, haughtily but tranquilly. 
 
 The soldier called one of his Eminence's officers, who, in 
 the tone in which a youth in office directs a solicitor to a 
 minister, let fall these words : " The other staircase, in 
 front.'* And the officer without further notice of the 
 unknown, resumed his interrupted conversation. 
 
 The stranger, without reply, directed his steps towards 
 the staircase pointed out to him. On this side no more 
 noise, no more flambeaux : obscurity, through which a 
 sentinel glided like a shadow ; silence, which permitted 
 him to hear the sound of his own footsteps, accompanied 
 with the jingling of his spurs upon the stone slabs. 
 
 This guard w^as one of the twenty musketeers appointed 
 for attendance upon the king, and he mounted guard with 
 the stiffness and consciousness of a statue. 
 
THE UNKNOWN LOSES HIS INCOGNITO. 
 
 81 
 
 Who goes there '? said the guard. 
 " A friend/' replied the unknown. 
 
 What do you want 1 " 
 " To speak to the king." 
 
 Do you, nay dear Monsieur'? That can hardly be." 
 "Why notl" 
 
 " Because the king has gone to bed.'' 
 
 "Gone to bed already r' 
 
 "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 
 threatening gesture ; but the unknown stirred no more 
 than if his feet had taken root. 
 
 "Monsieur the musketeer,'' said he, "are you a gentle- 
 man ] " 
 
 " I have that honor." 
 
 " Very v/ell ! I also am one ; and between gentlemen 
 some consideration ought to be observed." 
 
 The soldier lowered his arms, overcome by the dignity 
 with which these words were pronounced. 
 
 " Speak, Monsieur," said he ; " and if you ask me any- 
 thing in my power — " 
 
 " Thank you. You have an officer, have you not 1 " 
 
 " 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 
 ascended the staircase ; while the cry, " Lieutenant, a 
 
 VOL. I. — 6 
 
82 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 visit ! " transmitted from sentinel to sentinel, preceded the 
 unknown, and disturbed the slumbers of the officer. 
 
 Dragging on his boot, rubbing his eyes, and hooking 
 his cloak, the lieutenant 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 Muske- 
 teers, are you ^ " 
 
 " I have that honor,'' replied the officer. 
 
 " Monsieur, it is absolutely necessary that I speak to 
 the king.'' 
 
 The lieutenant looked attentively at the unknown ; and 
 in that look, although so brief, he saw all he wished to 
 see, — that is to say, a person of high distinction in an 
 ordinary dress. 
 
 ^' I do not suppose you to be mad," replied he ; " and 
 yet you seem to me to be in a condition to know, Mon- 
 sieur, that people do not enter a king's apartments in 
 this manner without his consent." 
 
 " He will consent." 
 
 " Monsieur, permit me to doubt that. The king has 
 retired tliis quarter of an hour ; he must be now undress- 
 ing. 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 be seen upon his pallid countenance one 
 of the most poignant emotions that ever an* energetic 
 man endeavored to drive back to his heart. 
 
THE UNKNOWN LOSES HIS INCOGNITO. 
 
 83 
 
 " Oh yes, Sire ; in fact," said he, " I ought to have 
 recognized you.'^ 
 
 *^You have seen my portrait, thenT' 
 "No, Sire." 
 
 Or else you have seen me formerly at court, before I 
 was driven from France " 
 
 "[N'o, Sire, it is not even that.'' 
 How, then, could you have recognized me, if you 
 have never seen my portrait or my person 1 " 
 
 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 hand across it, " Do you still see any difficulty 
 in announcing meV said he. 
 
 "Sire, pardon me," replied the officer, "but I could 
 not imagine a king under so simple an exterior ; and yet 
 I had the honor to tell your Majesty just now that I had 
 seen Charles I. — But pardon me, Monsieur ; I will 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 first gentleman on duty ; but, for that, your Majesty 
 must please to consent to give up your sword." 
 
 " True, true ; I had forgotten that no one armed is 
 permitted to enter the chamber of a king of France." 
 
 " Your Majesty will form an exception, if you wish it ; 
 but then I shall avoid my responsibility by informing the 
 king's attendant." 
 
84 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Here is my sword, Monsieur. Will you now please 
 to announce me to his Majesty'?" 
 
 Instantly, Sire.'' And the officer immediately went 
 and knocked at the door of communication, which the 
 valet opened to him. 
 
 " His Majesty the King of England I " said the officer. 
 
 His Majesty the King of England I " replied his valet 
 de chamhre. 
 
 At these w^ords a gentleman opened the folding-doors 
 of the king's apartment, and Louis XIV. was seen, without 
 hat or sword, and his doublet open, advancing with signs 
 of the greatest surprise. 
 
 " You, my brother, — you at Blois ! " cried Louis XIY., 
 dismissing with a gesture both the gentleman and the 
 valet de chamhre, who passed out into the next apartment. 
 
 Sire," replied Charles II., I was going to Paris, in 
 the hope of seeing your Majesty, when report informed 
 me of your approaching arrival in this city. I therefore 
 prolonged my abode here, having something very partic- 
 ular 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 next chamber. There, behind that par- 
 tition, is an unoccupied closet, looking into the ante- 
 chamber, and in that antechamber you found nobody but 
 a solitary 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 the misfortunes of our house." 
 
 The King of France colored, and drew his chair closer 
 
 to that of the King of England. 
 
THE UNKNOWN LOSES HIS INCOGNITO. 
 
 85 
 
 "Sire," said Charles II., "I have no need to ask if 
 your Majesty is acquainted with the details of my deplor- 
 able 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 speaks of political affairs 
 before me. Still more, formerly I used to get Laporte, 
 my valet de cham.bre, to read historical subjects to me; 
 but he put a stop to these readings, and took away 
 Laporte from me. So that I beg my brother Charles to 
 tell me all those matters as to a man who knows nothing." 
 
 "Well, Sire, I think that by taking things from the 
 beginning I shall have 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 Edin- 
 burgh, during Cromwell's expedition into Ireland, I was 
 crowned at Scone. A year after, wounded in one of the 
 provinces he had usurped, Cromwell returned upon us. 
 To meet him was my object ; to leave Scotland was my 
 wish." 
 
 " And yet," interrupted the young king, " Scotland is 
 almost your native country, is it not, my brother 1 " 
 
 " Yes ; but the Scots were cruel compatriots for me, 
 Sire : they had forced me 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 
 as the poor martyr, to whom the^^ had offered a favor 
 when dying, had asked that his body might be cut into 
 as many pieces as there are cities in Scotland, in order 
 that evidence of his fidelity might be met with every- 
 where, I could not leave one city, or go into another, 
 without passing under some fragments of a body which 
 had acted, fought, and breathed for me. 
 
86 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " By a bold march I passed through Cromwell's army, 
 and entered England. The Protector set out in pursuit 
 of this strange flight, which had a crown for its object. 
 If I had been able to reach London before him, without 
 doubt the prize of the race would have been mine ; but 
 he overtook me at Worcester. 
 
 " The genius of England was no longer with us, but 
 with him. On the 3d of September, 1651, Sire, — the 
 anniversary of the other battle of Dunbar, so fatal to 
 the Scots, — I was conquered. Two thousand men fell 
 around me before I thought of retreating a step. At 
 length I was obliged to fly. 
 
 *'Erom that moment my history became a romance. 
 Pursued with persistent inveteracy, I cut off* my hair, 
 I disguised myself as a woodman. One day spent amidst 
 the branches of an oak gave to that tree the name of the 
 royal oak, which it bears to this day. My adventures 
 in the county of Stafford, whence I escaped with the 
 daughter of my host on a pilTioIi behind me, still fill the 
 tales of the country firesides, and would furnish matter 
 for ballads. I will some day write all this, Sire, for the 
 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 look- 
 ing on at a party playing at skittles, and an old servant 
 who named me, bursting into tears, and who was as near 
 and as certainly killing me by his fidelity as another 
 might have been by treachery. Then I will tell of my 
 terrors — yes, Sire, of my terrors — when, at the house 
 of Colonel Windham, a farrier who came to shoe 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 landing in 
 Normandy." 
 
THE UNKNOWN LOSES HIS INCOGNITO. 
 
 87 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Charles, " if Heaven permits kings 
 to be thus ignorant of the histories of each other, how can 
 they render assistance to their brothers who need it 1 " 
 
 *^But tell me," continued Louis XIV., ^' how, after be- 
 ing so roughly received in England, you can still hope for 
 anything from that unhappy country and that rebellious 
 people r' 
 
 Oh, Sire ! since the battle of Worcester everything 
 is changed there. Cromwell is dead, after having signed 
 a treaty with France, in which his name was placed above 
 yours. He died on the 3d of September, 1658, a fresh 
 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 of Oliver was too heavy for Richard, — 
 Eichard, who w^as neither a Eepublican nor a Koyalist ; 
 Richard, who allowed his guards to eat his dinner and his 
 generals to govern the Republic. Richard abdicated the 
 protectorate on the 22d of April, 1659, more than a year 
 ago, Sire. 
 
 " Since that time England has been nothing but a 
 gaming-house, in which the players throw dice for the 
 crown of my father. The two most eager players are 
 Lambert and Monk. Well, Sire, I, in my turn, wish to 
 take part in this game, where the stakes are thrown upon 
 my royal mantle. Sire, it only requires a million to cor- 
 rupt one of these players and make an ally of him, or 
 two hundred of your gentlemen to drive them out of my 
 palace at Whitehall, as Jesus drove the money-changers 
 from the temple." 
 
 " You come, then," replied Louis XIV., " to ask me — " 
 " For your assistance, — that is to say, not only for that 
 which kings owe to each other, but that which simple 
 Christians owe to each other, — your assistance, Sire, 
 
88 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 either in money or men. Your assistance, Sire, and 
 within a month, whether I oppose Lambert to Monk, or 
 Monk to Lambert, I shall liave re-conquered my paternal 
 inheritance, without having cost my country a guinea, or 
 my subjects a drop of blood ; for they are now all drunk 
 with revolutions, protectorates, and republics, and ask 
 nothing better than to fall staggering to sleep in the arms 
 of royalty. Your assistance, Sire, and I shall owe you 
 more than I owe my father, — my poor father, who 
 bought at so dear a rate the ruin of our house ! You 
 may judge. Sire, whether I am unhappy, whether I am 
 in despair, for I accuse my own father ! " 
 
 And the blood mounted to the pale face of Charles IL, 
 who remained for an instant with his head between his 
 hands, and as if blinded by that blood which appeared to 
 revolt against the filial blasphemy. 
 
 The young king was not less affected than his elder 
 brother; he threw himself about in his fauteiiil^ and 
 could not find a single word of reply. 
 
 Charles IL, to whom ten years in age gave a superior 
 strength to master his emotions, recovered his speech the 
 first. 
 
 *• Sire," said he, your reply % I wait for it as a crimi- 
 nal w\aits for his sentence. 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. I am no more king of 
 France than you are king of England. I am a name, 
 a cipher dressed in fl.eur-de-Used velvet, — that is all. I 
 am upon a visible throne ; that is my only advantage 
 over your Majesty. I have nothing ; I can do nothing." 
 
 "Can it be sol" exclaimed Charles IL 
 
 " My brother," said Louis, sinking his voice, " I have 
 undorgone miseries with which my poorest gentlemen are 
 
THE UNKNOWN LOSES HIS INCOGNITO. 89 
 
 unacquainted. If ray poor Laporte were 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 
 that afterwards, when I asked for carriages, they brought 
 me conveyances half destroyed by the rats of the coach- 
 houses; he would tell you that when I asked for my 
 dinner, the servants went to the cardinal's kitchen to 
 inquire if there were anything for the king to eat. And 
 look ! to-day, this very day even, when I am twenty-two 
 years of age, — to-day, when I have attained the grade 
 of the majority of kings, — to-day, when I ought to have 
 the key of the treasury, the direction of policy, the 
 supremacy in peace and war, — cast your eyes around 
 me, see how I am left ! Look at this abandonment, this 
 disdain, this silence! While yonder, — look yonder! 
 View the bustle, the lights, the homage ! There ! — 
 there you see the real king of France, my brother ! " 
 In the cardinal's apartments ] " 
 
 " Yes, in the cardinal's apartments." 
 
 " Then I am condemned, Sirel" 
 
 Louis XIV. made no reply. 
 Condemned is the word ; for I will never solicit him 
 who left my mother and sister to die with cold and hun- 
 ger — the daughter and granddaughter of Henry IV. — 
 if M. de Retz and the Parliament had not sent them wood 
 and bread." 
 
 "To diel" murmured Louis XIV. 
 
 " Well ! " continued the King of England, " poor Charles 
 II., grandson of Henry IV., as you are, Sire, having nei- 
 ther Parliament nor Cardinal de Eetz to apply to, will die 
 of hunger, as his mother and sister had nearly done.'^ 
 
 Louis knitted his brow, and twisted violently the lace 
 of his ruffles. 
 
 This prostration, this immobility, serving as a mark to 
 
90 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 an emotion so visible, struck Charles II., and he took the 
 young man's hand. 
 
 Thanks," said he, my brother ! You pity me, and 
 that is all I can require 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 hun- 
 dred gentlemen, I think you say 1 
 
 *^Sire, a million would be quite sufficient.'^ 
 That is very little." 
 
 " Offered to a single man, it is a great deal. Convic- 
 tions have been purchased at a much lower price ; and I 
 should have to deal only with venalities." 
 
 Two hundred gentlemen ! Eeflect ! — that is little 
 more than a single company." 
 
 " Sire, there is in our family a tradition 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 a nation." 
 
 " Then, if I can procure you a million, or two hundred 
 gentlemen, you will be satisfied ; and you will consider 
 me your well-affectioned brother ? " 
 
 " I shall consider you as my savior ; and if I recover 
 the throne of my father, England will be, as long as I 
 reign at least, a sister to France, as you will have been a 
 brother to me." 
 
 " Well, my brother," said Louis, rising, what you hes- 
 itate to ask for, I will myself demand ; that which I have 
 never done on my own account, I will do on yours. I 
 will go and find the King of France — the other — the 
 rich, the powerful one, I mean. I will myself solicit this 
 million, or these two hundred gentlemen ; and — we will 
 see." 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Charles, " you are a noble friend. Sire — 
 a heart created by God ! You save me, my brother ; 
 
THE UNKNOWN LOSES HIS INCOGNITO. 
 
 91 
 
 and if you should ever stand in need of the life you re- 
 store me, demand it." 
 
 Silence, my brother, — silence ! " said Louis, in a sup- 
 pressed voice. Take care that no one hears you ! We 
 have not obtained our end yet. To ask money of Ma- 
 zarin, — that is worse than traversing the enchanted for- 
 est, each tree of which enclosed a demon. It is more 
 than setting out to conquer a world." 
 
 ''But yet. Sire, when you ask it — 
 
 " I have already told you that I never asked," replied 
 Louis, with a haughtiness that made the King of England 
 turn pale. 
 
 And as the latter, like a wounded man, made a retreat- 
 ing movement, " Pardon me, my brother," replied he. 
 " I have neither a mother nor a sister who is suffering. 
 My throne is hard and naked, but I am firmly seated on 
 my throne. Pardon me that expression, my brother ; it 
 was that of an egotist. I will redeem it, therefore, by a 
 sacrifice, — I will go to Monsieur the Cardinal. Wait for 
 me, if you please, — I will return." 
 
92 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE ARITHMETIC OF M. DE MAZARIN. 
 
 While the king was directing his course rapidly towards 
 the wing of the castle occupied by the cardinal, taking 
 nobody with him but his valet de chamhre, the officer of 
 Musketeers came out, breathing like a man who has for a 
 long time been forced to hold his breath, from the little 
 cabinet of which we have already spoken, and which the 
 king believed to be quite unoccupied. This little cabinet 
 had formerly been part of the chamber, from which it was 
 only separated by a thin partition ; and this partition, 
 which was only for the eye, permitted the least indis- 
 creet ear to hear every word spoken in the chamber. 
 
 There was no doubt, then, that this lieutenant of Mus- 
 keteers had heard all that had passed in his Majesty's 
 apartment. 
 
 Warned by the last words of the young king, he came 
 out just in time to salute him on his passage, and to 
 follow him with his eyes till he had disappeared in the 
 corridor. 
 
 Then, as soon as he had disappeared, he shook his head 
 after a fashion peculiarly his own, and in a voice which 
 forty years' absence from Gascony 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 his fauteuil, stretched his legs, and closed his 
 eyes, like a man who either sleeps or meditates. 
 
THE AEITHMETIC OF M. DE MAZARIN. 
 
 93 
 
 Daring this short monologue and the inise-en-scene that 
 had accompanied it, while the king, through the long cor- 
 ridors of the old castle, proceeded to the apartments of 
 M. de Mazarin, a scene of another sort was being enacted 
 in those apartments. 
 
 Mazarin was in bed, suffering a little from the gout. 
 But as he was a man of order, who utilized even pain, he 
 forced his wakefulness to be the humble servant of his 
 labor. He had consequently ordered Bernouin, his valet 
 de chambre, to bring him a little travelling-desk, so that 
 he might write in bed. But the gout is not an adversary 
 that allows itself to be conquered so easily ; therefore at 
 each movement he made, the pain from dull became 
 sharp. 
 
 " Is Brienne there " asked he of Bernouin. 
 No, Monseigneur," replied the valet de chamhre ; M. 
 de Brienne, with your permission, has gone to bed. But 
 if it is the wish of your Emmence, 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 fin- 
 gers the while. 
 
 Oh ! ciphers, is it 1 " said Bernouin. Very w^ell ! if 
 your Eminence attempts 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 goes on very 
 well, Bernouin, very well; a very orderly youth." 
 
 "I do not know%'^ said the valet de chamhre; "but I 
 don't like the countenance of your young man who goes 
 on so well." 
 
94 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Well, well, Bernouin ! We don't stand in need of 
 your advice. Place yourself there; take the pen, and 
 write." 
 
 I am ready, Monseigneur ; what am I to write 1" 
 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 million nine hundred thousand livres." 
 Well, Monseigneur ? " 
 " Upon Bordeaux, seven millions." 
 " Seven 1 " repeated Bernouin. 
 Yes," said the cardinal, pettishly, " seven." Then, 
 recollecting himself, You understand, Bernouin,'* added 
 he, that all this money is to be spent ^ " 
 
 " Eh ! Monseigneur, whether it be to be spent or put 
 away is of very little 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 1 You 
 always interrupt me ! " 
 
 Seven millions upon Bordeaux." 
 
 Ah ! yes ; that 's right. Upon Madrid, four. I give 
 you to understand plainly whom this money belongs to, 
 Bernouin, seeing that everybody has the stupidity to 
 believe me rich in millions. I repel the silly idea. A 
 minister, besides, has nothing of his own. Come, go on ! 
 General revenue, seven millions ; properties, nine millions. 
 Have you written that, Bernouin]" 
 " Yes, Monseigneur." 
 
 *'In the funds, six hundred thousand livres ; various 
 
THE ARITHMETIC OF M. DE MAZARIN. 
 
 95 
 
 property, two millions. Ah ! I forgot ; the furniture of 
 the different chateaux — " 
 
 Must I put ^ of the crown T' asked Bernouin. 
 " No, no ; it is of no use doing that, — that is under- 
 stood. Have you written that, Bernouin 1 " 
 " Yes, Monseigneur." 
 And the ciphers 1 " 
 Stand straight under one another." 
 " Cast them up, Bernouin." 
 
 "Thirty-nine million two himdred and sixty thousand 
 livres, Monseigneur.'' 
 
 " Ah ! " cried the cardinal, in a tone of vexation ; " there 
 are not yet forty 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 million two 
 hundred and sixty thousand 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-nine millions are bespoken, and much more." 
 
 Bernouin smiled after his own fashion — that is, like 
 a man who believes no more than he is willing to believe 
 — while preparing the cardinal's night-draught and put- 
 ting his pillow to rights. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Mazarin, when the valet had gone out ; 
 " not yet forty millions ! I must, however, reach the sum 
 of forty-five millions which I have determined on. But 
 who knows whether I shall have time 1 I am failing, I 
 depart, I shall never reach it ! And yet, who knows that 
 
96 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 I may not find two or three millions in the pockets of 
 my good friends the Spaniards'? They discovered Peru, 
 those people did, and — what the devil ! they must have 
 something left." 
 
 As he was speaking thus, entirely occupied with his 
 ciphers, and thinking no more of his gout, repelled by 
 a preoccupation which, with the cardinal, was the most 
 powerful of all preoccupations, Bernouin rushed into the 
 chamber, quite in a fright. 
 
 " Well," asked the cardinal, ^' what is the matter now 1 " 
 
 " The king, Monseigneur, — the king ! " 
 
 '^How? — the king!" said Mazarin, quickly concealing 
 his paper. ^' The king here ! the king at this hour ! I 
 thought he was in bed long ago. What is the matter, 
 then 'I " 
 
 Louis XIV. could hear these last words, and see the 
 terrified gesture of the cardinal, rising up in his bed, for 
 he entered the chamber at that moment. 
 
 " It is nothing. Monsieur the Cardinal, or at least noth- 
 ing which can alarm you. It is an important communi- 
 cation which I wish to make to your Eminence to-night, 
 — that is all." 
 
 Mazarin immediately thought of the marked attention 
 which the king had given to his words concerning Made- 
 moiselle de Mancini, and the communication appeared to 
 him probably to refer to this source. He recovered his 
 serenity then instantly, and assumed his most agreeable 
 air, — a change of countenance which inspired the king 
 with the greatest joy ; and when Louis was seated, — 
 
 "Sire," said the cardinal, "I ought certainly to listen 
 to your Majesty standing, but the violence of my com- 
 plaint — " 
 
 " No ceremony between us, my dear Monsieur the Car- 
 dinal," said Louis, kindly : "I am your pupil, and not the 
 
THE ARITHMETIC OF M. DE MAZARIN. 
 
 97 
 
 king, you know very well, and this evening in particular, 
 as I come to you' as a petitioner, as a solicitor, and one 
 very humble, and desirous to be kindly received toe." 
 
 Mazarin, seeing the heightened color of the king, was 
 confirmed in his first idea, — that is to say, that love 
 thoughts were hidden under all these fine words. This 
 time, political cunning, keen as it was, made a mistake ; 
 this color was not caused by the bashfulness of a juvenile 
 passion, but only by the painful reaction 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 an instant to forget that I am your subject 
 and call me your master and instructor, I promise your 
 Majesty my most devoted and tender consideration.*' 
 
 Thanks, Monsieur the Cardinal," answered the king; 
 
 that which I have to ask of your Eminence has but 
 little to do with myself." 
 
 " So much the worse ! " replied the cardinal ; " so 
 much the worse, Sire ! I should wish your Majesty to 
 ask of me something of importance, even a sacrifice ; but 
 whatever it may be that you ask me, I am ready to set 
 your heart at rest by granting it, my dear Sire." 
 
 " Well, this is what brings me here," said the king, 
 with a beating of the heart that had no equal except the 
 beating of the heart of the minister: ^* I have just re- 
 ceived a visit from my brother the King of England.'^ 
 
 Mazarin bounded in his bed as if he had been brought 
 in contact with a Leyden jar or a voltaic pile, at the same 
 time that a surprise, or rather a manifest disappointment, 
 inflamed his features with such a blaze of anger that 
 Louis XI Y., although so little of a diplomatist, saw that 
 the minister had hoped to hear something else. 
 
 VOL. I. — 7 
 
98 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Charles II. exclaimed Mazarin, with a hoarse voice 
 and a disdainful movement of his lips. " You have re- 
 ceived a visit from Charles IT. 1 
 
 From King Charles II./' replied Louis, according in a 
 marked manner to the grandson of Henry IV. the title 
 which Mazarin had forgotten to give him. "Yes, Mon- 
 sieur the Cardinal, that unhappy prince has touched my 
 heart with the relation of his misfortunes. His distress 
 is great, Monsieur the Cardinal, and it has appeared pain- 
 ful to me, who have seen my own throne disputed, who 
 have been forced in times of commotion to quit my cap- 
 ital, — tome, in short, who am acquainted with misfor- 
 tune, — to leave a deposed and fugitive brother without 
 assistance.'^ 
 
 Eh ! said the cardinal, sharply ; " why had he not, 
 as you have, a Jules Mazarin by his side 1 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 never forget it. It is precisely 
 because my brother the King of England has not about 
 him the powerful genius who has saved me, — it is for that, 
 I say, that I wish to conciliate the aid of that same genius, 
 and beg you to extend your arm over his head, well as- 
 sured, Monsieur the Cardinal, that your hand, by touch- 
 ing him only, would know how to replace upon his brow 
 the crown which fell at the foot of his father's scaffold." 
 
 Sire," replied Mazarin, " I thank you for your good 
 opinion with regard to myself, but we have nothing to do 
 yonder; they are a set of madmen, who deny God, and 
 cut off the heads of their kings. They are dangerous, ob- 
 serve. Sire, and filthy to the touch after having wallowed 
 in royal blood and covenantal dirt. That policy has never 
 suited me, — I scorn it and reject it." 
 
THE ARITHMETIC OF M. DE MAZARIN. 
 
 99 
 
 "Therefore you ought to assist in establishing a 
 better." 
 
 " What is that 1 " 
 
 "The restoration of Charles 11. , for example." 
 
 " Good heavens ! " cried Mazarin, " does the poor prince 
 flatter himself with that chimera^'' 
 
 " Yes, he does/' replied the young king, terrified at the 
 difficulties of this project, which the infallible eye of his 
 minister seemed to discover; "he only asks for a million 
 to carry out his purpose." 
 
 " Is that all '? — a little million, if you please ! " said 
 the cardinal ironically, emphasizing his Italian accent. 
 " A little million, if you please, brother! Bah ! a family 
 of mendicants ! " 
 
 "Cardinal," said Louis, raising his head, "that family 
 of mendicants is a branch of my family." 
 
 " Are you rich enough to give millions to other people, 
 Sire ? Have you the millions 1 " 
 
 " Oh ! " replied Louis XIV., w^th great pain, w^hich he, 
 however, by a strong effort prevented from appearing on 
 his countenance, — " oh ! yes, Monsieur the Cardinal, I 
 am well aware I am poor ; and yet the crown of France is 
 worth a million, and to perform a good action, I would 
 pledge my crown, if it were necessary. I could find 
 Jews who would be willing to lend me a million." 
 
 " So, Sire, you say you want a million '? " said Mazarin. 
 
 " YeSy Monsieur, I say so." 
 
 " You are mistaken, greatly mistaken, Sire ; you want 
 much more than that. — Bernouin ! — You shall see. Sire, 
 how much you really want." 
 
 "What, Cardinal!" said the king, " are you going to 
 consult a lackey upon my affairs % " 
 
 "Bernouin!" cried the cardinal again, without appear- 
 ing to remark the humiliation of the young prince. 
 
100 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Come here, Bernouin, and describe the account I made 
 yon go into just now." 
 
 " Cardinal, Cardinal ! did you not hear me 1 " said Louis, 
 becoming pale with anger. 
 
 ^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 I tell you to do just 
 now, Bernouin '? 
 
 " Your Eminence commanded me to cast up an account." 
 
 ^'You did it, did you notl^' 
 
 " Yes, Monseigneur/' 
 
 ^^To verify the amount of which his Majesty, at this 
 moment, stands in need. 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 million two hundred and sixty thousand 
 francs.'^ 
 
 " That is correct, Bernouin ; that is all I wanted to 
 know. Leave us now,'' said the cardinal, fixing his bril- 
 liant eye upon the young king, who sat mute with 
 stupefaction. 
 
 " But yet — '' stammered the king. 
 What, do you still doubt. Sire '? '' said the cardinal. 
 " Well, here is a proof 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 vexation was so profound. 
 
 " Therefore, as it is a million you want, Sire, and that 
 million is not set down here, it is forty-six millions your 
 Majesty stands in need of Well, I don't think that any 
 
THE ARITHMETIC OF M. DE MAZARIN. 101 
 
 # 
 
 Jews in the world w^ould lend such a sum, even upon the 
 crown of France.'' 
 
 The king, clenching his hands beneath his ruffles, 
 pushed away his chair. 
 
 So it must be, then ! " said he ; my brother the King 
 of England will die of hunger.'' 
 
 " Sire/' replied Mazarin, in the same tone, " remember 
 this proverb, which I give you as the expression of the 
 soundest policy : ^ Rejoice at being poor when your neigh- 
 bor is poor likewise.' " 
 
 Louis meditated for a few moments, with an inquisitive 
 glance directed to the paper, one end of which remained 
 under the bolster. 
 
 Then," said he, it is impossible to comply with my 
 demand for money. Monsieur the Cardinal, is it % " 
 Absolutely, Sire." 
 
 " Remember, this will secure me a future enemy, if he 
 succeeds in regaining his crown without my assistance." 
 
 " If your Majesty only fears that, you may be quite at 
 ease," replied Mazarin, eagerly. 
 
 " Very well, J say no more about it," exclaimed Louis 
 XIV. 
 
 Have I at least convinced you, Sire'i" placing his 
 hand upon that of the king. 
 " Perfectly." 
 
 If there be anything else, ask it, Sire ; I shall be 
 most happy to grant it to you, having refused this." 
 Anything else, Monsieur 1 " 
 
 Why, yes ; am I not, body and soul, devoted to your 
 Majesty*? — Ho, there ! Bernouin ! — lights and guards 
 for his Majesty ! His Majesty is returning to his own 
 chamber." 
 
 " Not yet, Monsieur ; since you place your good will at 
 my disposal, I will take advantage of it.'* 
 
102 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 ^T'or yourself, Sirel" asked the cardinal, hoping that 
 his niece was at length about to be named. 
 
 "No, Monsieur, not for myself," replied Louis, "but 
 still for my brother Charles." 
 
 The brow of Mazarin again became clouded, and he 
 grumbled a few words that the king could not catch. 
 
MAZARIN'S POLICY. 103 
 
 CHAPTEE XL 
 
 mazarin's policy. 
 
 Instead of the hesitation with which he had accosted the 
 cardinal a quarter of an hour before, there might be read 
 in the eyes of the young king that will against which 
 a struggle might be maintained, and which might be 
 crushed by its own impotence, but which at least would 
 preserve, like a wound in the depth of the heart, the 
 remembrance of its defeat. 
 
 This time. Monsieur the Cardinal, we have to do with 
 a thing much more easy to be found than a million." 
 
 " Do you think so, Sire?" said Mazarin, looking at the 
 king with that penetrating 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 1 " 
 
 " You know what remains for me to say to you 1 " 
 
 " Listen, Sire ; these are King Charles's own words — " 
 Oh, impossible ! " 
 
 "Listen. 'And if that miser, that beggarly Italian,* 
 said he — " 
 
 " Monsieur the Cardinal ! " 
 
 " That is the sense, if not the words. Eh ! Good 
 heavens ! I wish him no ill on that account ; every one 
 sees with his passions. He said to you : ' If that vile 
 Italian refuses the million w^e ask of him. Sire, — if we 
 are forced, for want of money, to renounce diplomacy, 
 
104 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 wel^, then, we will ask him to grant us five hundred 
 gentlemen.' " 
 
 The king started, for the cardinal was only mistaken 
 in the number. 
 
 Is not that it, SireT' cried the minister, with a tri- 
 umphant accent. And then he added some fine words ; 
 he said : ' I have friends on the other side of the Channel, 
 and these friends only want a leader and a banner. When 
 they shall see me, when they shall behold the banner of 
 France, they will rally round me, for they will compre- 
 hend that I have your support. The colors of the 
 French uniform will be worth as much to me as the 
 million M. de Mazarin will refuse us,' — for he was pretty 
 well assured I should refuse him that million. — ' I shall 
 conquer with these five hundred gentlemen, Sire, and all 
 the honor will be yours.' Now, that is what he said, or 
 to that purpose, was it not ? — turning those plain words 
 into brilliant metaphors and pompous images ; for they 
 are fine talkers, that family ! The father talked, even on 
 the scaffold." 
 
 The perspiration of shame stood upon the brow of 
 Louis. He felt that it was inconsistent with his dignity 
 to hear his brother thus insulted, but he did not yet 
 know how to act with him before w^hom he had seen 
 every one blench, even his mother. At last he made an 
 effort. 
 
 " But," said he, " Monsieur the Cardinal, it is not five 
 hundred men, it is only two hundred." 
 
 Well, but you see I guessed what he wanted." 
 
 I never denied. Monsieur, that you had a penetrating 
 eye, and that was why I thought you would not refuse 
 my brother Charles a thing so simple and so easy to 
 grant him as what I ask of you in his name, Monsieur 
 the Cardinal, or rather in my own." 
 
MAZARIN'S POLICY. 
 
 105 
 
 " Sire," said Mazarin, " I have studied policy thirty 
 years, — first with M. le Cardinal de Richelieu, and then 
 alone. This policy has not always been over-honest, it 
 must be allowed, but it has never been unskilful. Now, 
 that which is proposed to your Majesty is dishonest and 
 unskilful 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 1 Crom- 
 well found a good place, and he took it ; that was his 
 custom. I return, then, to Cromwell. You have a 
 treaty with him, — that is to say, with England, since 
 when you signed that treaty Cromwell was England." 
 Cromwell is dead." 
 
 " Do you think so, Sire 1 " 
 
 " No doubt he is, since his son Richard has succeeded 
 him, and has abdicated." 
 
 "Yes, that is it exactly. Richard inherited on the 
 death of his father, and England on the abdication of 
 Richard. The treaty formed part of the inheritance, 
 whether in the hands of Richard or in the hands of 
 England. The treaty is, then, still as good, as valid, as 
 ever. Why should you evade it. Sire 1 What is changed 1 
 Charles II. wants that to-day which w^e w^ere not willing 
 to grant him ten years ago ; but that was foreseen and 
 provided against. You are the ally of England, Sire, and 
 not of Charles II. It was doubtless w^rong, in a family 
 point of view, to sign a treaty with a man who had cut 
 off the head of the brother-in-law of the king your father, 
 and to contract an alliance with a parliament wdiich they 
 call yonder the Rump Parliament ; it was unbecoming, 
 I acknowledge, but it w^as not unskilful in a political 
 
106 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 point of view, since, thanks to that treaty, I saved your 
 Majesty, then a minor, the trouble and danger of a for- 
 eign war, which the Fronde — you remember the Fronde, 
 Sire 1 " — the young king hung down his head — " which 
 the Fronde might have fatally complicated. And thus 
 I prove to your Majesty, that to change our plan now, 
 without warning our allies, w^ould be at once unskilful 
 and dishonest. We should make war with the aggression 
 on our side ; we should make it, deserving to have it 
 made against us ; and we should have the appearance 
 of fearing it while provoking it, for a permission granted 
 to five hundred men, to two hundred men, to fifty men, 
 to ten men, is still a peruiission. 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 certainly 
 happen ; or with Spain, which will perhaps ensue if your 
 marriage fails " (Mazarin stole a furtive glance at the king), 
 — ^' and there are a thousand causes that might still 
 make your marriage fail, — well, w^ould you approve of 
 England's sending to the United Provinces or to Spain 
 a regiment, a company, a squadron even, of English 
 gentlemen Would you think that they kept within 
 the limits of their treaty of alliance 1 " 
 
 Louis listened : it seemed so strange to him that Ma- 
 zarin should invoke good faith, — he, the author of so 
 many political tricks, called Mazarinades. "And yet," 
 said the king, " without any manifest authorization, I can- 
 not prevent gentlemen of my States from passing over 
 into England, if such should be their good pleasure." 
 
 You ought to compel them to return. Sire, or at least 
 protest against their presence as enemies in a country 
 allied with you." 
 
 Well, but come. Monsieur the Cardinal, you who are 
 
MAZARIN'S POLICY. 
 
 107 
 
 SO profound a genius, try if you cannot find means to as- 
 sist this poor king, without compromising ourseives." 
 
 " And that is exactly what I am not willing to do, my 
 dear Sire," said Mazarin. " If England were to act ex- 
 actly according to my wishes, she could not act better 
 than she does ; if I directed the policy of England from 
 this place, I should not direct it otherwise. Governed as 
 she is governed, England is an eternal nest of contention 
 for all Europe. Holland protects Charles IL, let Holland 
 do so ; they will become angry, they will fight. They are 
 the only two maritime powers. Let them destroy each 
 other's navy ; we can construct ours with the wreck of 
 their vessels, and shall save our money to buy nails 
 with." 
 
 Oh, how paltry and mean all that is you tell me, 
 Monsieur the Cardinal ! " 
 
 "Yes, but nevertheless it is true, Sire; you must con- 
 fess that. There is this, still further. Suppose I admit 
 for a moment the possibility of breaking your word and 
 evading the treaty, — it does sometimes happen that one 
 fails to keep his word or breaks an agreement ; but that 
 is when some great interest is at stake, or when the con- 
 tract is found to be too troublesome, — well, you will 
 authorize the engagement asked of you : France — her 
 banner, which is the same thing — will cross the Straits 
 and will fight ; France will be conquered." 
 
 " Why so 1 " 
 
 " By my faith ! there is a pretty general for us to fighv 
 under, — this Charles IL ! Worcester gives 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. The brave brewer of whom we are speaking, 
 
108 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 was a visionary ; he had moments of exaltation, expan- 
 sion, inflation, during which he opened like a too full 
 cask ; and from the chinks there always escaped some 
 drops of his thoughts, and by the sample the whole of his 
 thought was to be made out. Cromwell has thus al- 
 lowed us more than ten times to penetrate into his very 
 soul, when one would have conceived that soul to be en- 
 veloped in triple brass,- as Horace has it. But Monk ! — 
 Oh, Sire, God defend you from ever having anything 
 political to transact with Monk ! It is he who has given 
 me, in one year, all the gray hairs I have. Monk is no 
 fanatic ; unfortunately he is a politician ; he does not 
 split, he keeps close together. For ten years he has had 
 his eyes fixed upon one object, and nobody has yet been 
 able to ascertain what. Every morning, as Louis XI. ad- 
 vised, he burns his night-cap. Therefore, on the day 
 when this plan, slowly and solitarily ripened, shall break 
 forth, it will break forth with all the conditions of the 
 success which always accompany an unforeseen event. 
 
 That is Monk, Sire, of whom, perhaps, you have 
 never heard, — of whom, perhaps, you did not know the 
 name even, before your brother Charles II., who knows 
 what he is, pronounced it before you. He is a wonder of 
 depth and tenacity, the two things alone against which 
 intelligence and ardor are blunted. Sire, I had ardor 
 when I was young ; I always had intelligence. I may 
 safely boast of it, because I am reproached with it. I 
 have done very well with these two qualities, since, from 
 the son of a fisherman of Piscina, I have become first min- 
 ister of the King of France ; and in that quality your 
 Majesty will perhaps acknowledge I have rendered some 
 services to the throne of your Majesty. Well, Sire, if I 
 had met with Monk on my way, instead of M. de Beau- 
 fort, M. de Retz, or Monsieur the Prince, — well, we should 
 
mazarin's policy. 
 
 109 
 
 have been ruined. If you engage yourself rashly, Sire, 
 you will fall 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 mis- 
 trust him, for I should be stronger than he ; but with 
 him I am afraid to guess — to guess! — you understand 
 my word ] — for if I thought I had guessed, I should 
 stop at an idea, and, in spite of myself, should pursue 
 that idea. Since that man has been in power yonder, I 
 am like those damned souls in Dante, whose necks Satan 
 has twisted, and who walk forw^ard, looking behind them. 
 I am travelling towards Madrid, but I never lose sight of 
 London. To guess, Avith that devil of a man, is to deceive 
 one's self, and to deceive one's self is to ruin one's self 
 God keep me from ever seeking to guess what he aims at ; 
 I confine myself to watcliing what he does, and that is 
 quite enough. Now I believe — you observe the extent 
 of the word / believe ? — / believe, with respect to Monk, 
 ties one to nothing — I believe that he has a strong incli- 
 nation to succeed Cromwell. Your Charles II. has al- 
 ready caused proposals to be made to him by ten persons ; 
 he has satisfied himself with driving these ten meddlers 
 from his presence, without saying anything to them but, 
 * Begone, or I will have you hung.' That man is a sepul- 
 chre ! At this moment Monk is affecting devotion to the 
 Rump Parliament; of this devotion, observe, I am not 
 the dupe. Monk has no wish to be assassinated, — an 
 assassination would stop him in the midst of his opera- 
 tions ; and his work must be accomplished ; — so I be- 
 lieve — but do not you believe what I believe, Sire : for 
 
110 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BEAGELONNE. 
 
 I say T believe from habit — T believe that Monk is keep- 
 ing well with the Parliament till the day comes for his 
 dispersing it. You are asked for swords, but they are to 
 fight against Monk. God preserve us from fighting against 
 Monk, Sire ; for Monk would beat us, and I should never 
 console myself after being beaten by Monk. I sliould say 
 to myself, Monk has foreseen that victory ten years. For 
 God's sake, Sire, out of friendship for you, if not out of 
 consideration for himself, let Charles II. keep quiet. 
 Your Majesty will make him a little revenue here ; you 
 will give him one of your chateaux. Yes, yes — wait 
 awhile. But I forgot the treaty, — that famous treaty 
 of which we were just now speaking. Your Majesty has 
 not even the right to give him a chateau.'' 
 " How is that 1 " 
 
 " Yes, yes ; your Majesty is bound not to afford hospi- 
 tality to King Charles, and to compel him to leave France 
 even. It was on this account we forced him to quit it ; 
 and yet here he is returned again. Sire, I hope you will 
 give your brother to understand that he cannot remain 
 with us ; that it is impossible ; that he compromises us, 
 • — or I myself — " 
 
 Enough, Monsieur," said Louis XIY., rising. " To 
 refuse me a million, perhaps you have the right ; your 
 millions are your own. To refuse me two hundred gen- 
 tlemen, you have still the right ; for you are first minis- 
 ter, and you have, in the eyes of France, the responsibility 
 of peace and war. But that you should pretend to pre- 
 vent me, who am king, from affording hospitality to the 
 grandson of Henry lY., to my cousin-german, to the com- 
 panion of my childhood, — there your power stops, and 
 there commences my will." 
 
 " Sire,*^ said Mazarin, who was delighted at being let 
 off so cheaply, and who had, besides, only fought so 
 
MAZARIN'S POLICY. 
 
 Ill 
 
 earnestly to arrive at that, — Sire, I will always bend 
 before the will of my king. Let my king, then, keep near 
 him, or in one of his chateaux, the King of England j let 
 Mazarin know it, but let not the minister know it." 
 
 " Good-night, Monsieur,'' said Louis XIY. ; " 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 of all Mazarin had told him, but of one 
 thing which he took care not to mention to him ; and that 
 was that it was necessary for him to study seriously both 
 his own affairs and those of Europe, for he found them 
 very difficult and very obscure. Louis found the King of 
 I England seated in the same place where he had left him. 
 On perceiving him, the English prince arose ; but at the 
 first glance he saw discouragement in dark letters upon 
 his cousin's brow. Then, speaking first, as if to facilitate 
 the painful avowal that Louis had to make to him, — 
 
 "Whatever may it 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 
 sterile good-will, my brother." 
 
 Charles 11. became extremely pale ; he passed his cold 
 hand over his brow, and struggled for a few instants 
 against a faintness that made him tremble. " I under- 
 stand," said he at last ; " no more hope ! " 
 
 Louis seized the hand of Charles II. "Wait, my 
 brother," said he ; " precipitate nothing ; everything may 
 change ; it is extreme resolutions that ruin causes ; add 
 another year of trial, I implore you, to the years you have 
 already undergone. You have, to induce you to act now 
 rather than at another time, neither occasion nor oppor- 
 
112 THE VICOMTE DE BEAGELONNE. 
 
 tunity. Come with me, my brother ; I will give you one 
 of my residences, whichever you prefer, to inhabit. I, 
 with you, will keep my eye upon events ; we will prepare. 
 Come, then, my brother, have courage ! " 
 
 Charles IT. withdrew his hand from that of the king, 
 and drawing back, to salute him with more ceremony, 
 replied, Thanks, Sire, with all my heart ! But I 
 have prayed without success to the greatest king on 
 earth ; now I will go and ask a miracle of God." And he 
 went out without being willing to hear any more, his 
 head carried loftily, his hand trembling, with a painful 
 contraction of his noble countenance, and that profound 
 gloom which, finding no more hope in the world of men, 
 appeared to go beyond it, and ask it in worlds unknown. 
 
 The officer of Musketeers, on seeing him pass by thus 
 pale, bowed almost to his knees as he saluted him. He 
 then took a flambeau, called two musketeers, and de- 
 scended the deserted staircase with the unfortunate king, 
 holding in his left hand his hat, the plume of which swept 
 the steps. Arrived at the door, the officer asked the 
 king w^hich way he was going, that he might direct the 
 musketeers. 
 
 Monsieur," replied Charles II., in a subdued voice, 
 "you who have known my father, say^ did you ever pray 
 for him ] If you have done so, do not forget me in your 
 prayers. Now, I am going alone, and beg of you not to 
 accompany me, or have me accompanied further." 
 
 The officer bowed, and sent away the musketeers into 
 the interior of the palace. But he himself remained an 
 instant under the porch to watch the departure of Charles 
 11. , till he was lost in the shadows of the winding street. 
 " To him, as to his father formerly,'' murmured he, 
 " Athos, if he were here, would say with reason, ' Salu- 
 tation to flillen majesty ! ' " Then reascending the stair- 
 
MAZARIN'S POLICY. 
 
 113 
 
 case : " Oh the vile service that I follow ! " said he, at 
 every step. " Oh, my pitiful master ! Life thus spent 
 is no longer tolerable, and it is at length time that I do 
 something ! No more generosity, no more energy ! The 
 master has succeeded, the pupil is starved forever. Mor- 
 dioiix I I will not resist. Come, you men," continued he, 
 entering the antechamber, why are you all looking at 
 me so Extinguish these flambeaux, and return to your 
 posts. Ah ! you were guarding me 1 Yes, you watch 
 over me, do you not, worthy fellows ? Brave fools ! I 
 am not the Due de Guise. Begone ! They will not as- 
 sassinate me in the little passage-way. Besides," added 
 he, in a low voice, that would be a resolution, and 
 no resolutions have been formed since M. le Cardinal de 
 Richelieu died. Xow, with all his faults, that was a 
 man ! It is decided : to-morrow I will throw my uniform 
 to the nettles 
 
 Then, reflecting, No," said he, " not yet ! I have 
 one great trial to make, and I will make it ; but that 
 — and I swear it — shall be the last, mordioux I " 
 
 He had not finished speaking, when a voice issued from 
 the king's chamber. Monsieur the Lieutenant ! " said 
 this voice. 
 
 I am here," replied he. 
 
 " The king desires to speak to you." 
 
 "Humph!" said the lieutenant; ^'perhaps it is for 
 what I was thinking about ; " and he went into the king's 
 appartement. 
 
 VOL. I. — 8 
 
114 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE KING AND THE LIEUTENANT. 
 
 As soon as the king saw the officer enter, he dismissed his 
 valet de chamhre and his gentleman. " Who is on duty 
 to-morrow, Monsieur"?" asked he. 
 
 The lieutenant bowed his head with military politeness, 
 and replied, " I am, Sire." 
 
 " How ! you still 1 " 
 
 " I always. Sire." 
 
 " How can that be. Monsieur? " 
 
 " Sire, when travelling, the Musketeers supply all the 
 posts of your Majesty's household ; that is to say, yours, 
 her Majesty the Queen's, and Monsieur the Cardinal's, 
 the ]atter of whom borrows of the king the best part, 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 out of a hundred and twenty. At the 
 Louvre it is very different, and if I were at the Louvre, I 
 should rest upon my brigadier ; but when travelling, 
 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." 
 
THE KING AND THE LIEUTENANT. 
 
 115 
 
 " What do you say ? " said the king, who did not at 
 first comprehend the full meaning of this reply. 
 
 " I say, Sire, that I will not expose myself to the 
 chance of a fault. If the devil had an ill turn to play 
 me, you understand, Sire, as he knows the man with 
 whom he has to deal, he would choose the moment when 
 I should not be there. My duty and the peace of my 
 conscience before everything, Sire." 
 
 " But such duty will kill you. Monsieur." 
 
 " Eh ! Sire, I have performed it thirty-five years, 
 and in all France and Navarre there is not a man in 
 better health than I am. Moreover, I entreat you, Sire, 
 not to trouble yourself about me. That would appear 
 very strange to me, seeing that I am not accustomed to 
 it." 
 
 The king cut short the conversation by a fresh ques- 
 tion. " Shall you be here, then, to-morrow morning 1 " 
 "As at present? Yes, Sire." 
 
 The king walked several times up and down his cham- 
 ber; it was very plain that he burned with a desire to 
 speak, but that he was restrained by some fear or other. 
 The lieutenant, standing motionless, hat in hand, leaning 
 on his hip, w\atched him making these evolutions, and 
 while looking at him, grumbled to himself, biting his 
 mustache : " For a demi-pistole, he has not resolution 
 enough ! Parole cVhonneur ! I would lay a wager he 
 does not speak at all ! " 
 
 The king continued to walk about, casting from time 
 to time a side glance at the lieutenant. " He is his father 
 over again," continued the latter, in his secret monologue ; 
 
 he is at once proud, avaricious, and timid. The devil 
 take his master, say 1." 
 
 The king stopped. "Lieutenant," said he. 
 
 " I am here. Sire." 
 
116 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Why did yoii cry out this evening, down below in 
 the salons, ' On the king's service ! His Majesty's 
 Musketeers ! ' " 
 
 Because you gave me the order, Sire." 
 
 a 
 
 " Yourself." 
 
 " Indeed, I did not say a word, Monsieur." 
 
 " Sire, an order is given by a sign, by a gesture, by a 
 glance, as intelligibly, as freely, and as clearly as by word 
 of mouth. A servant w^ho has nothing but ears is only 
 half a good servant." 
 
 ''Your eyes are very penetrating, then, Monsieur." 
 
 " How is that. Sire 1 " 
 
 " Because they see what is not." 
 
 " My eyes are good, though, Sire, although they have 
 served their master long and much; when they have 
 anything to see, they seldom miss the opportunity. 
 I^ow, this evening, they saw that your Majesty colored 
 with endeavoring to conceal your inclination to gape ; 
 that your Majesty looked with eloquent supplications, 
 first at his Eminence, and then at her Majesty the 
 Queen-mother, and at length to the door of entrance ; 
 and they so thoroughly remarked all I have said, that 
 they saw your Majesty's lips articulate these words : 
 ' Who will get me out of this * " 
 
 " Monsieur ! " 
 
 " Or something to this effect, Sire : ' My Muske- 
 teers ! ' I could then no longer hesitate. That look 
 was for me ; the order was for me. I cried out in- 
 stantly, * His Majesty's Musketeers ! ' And, besides, that 
 is proved to be true, Sire, not only by your Majesty's 
 not saying I was wrong, but proving I was right by going 
 out at once." 
 
 The king turned away to smile ; then, after a few 
 
THE KING AND THE LIEUTENANT. 
 
 117 
 
 seconds, he again fixed his limpid eye upon that coun- 
 tenance, — so intelligent, so bold, and so firm that it 
 might have been said to be the proud and energetic 
 profile of the eagle in face of the sun. ^' That is all very 
 well," said he, after a short silence, during which he 
 endeavored, in vain, to look his ofiicer down. 
 
 But, seeing the king said no more, the latter pirouetted 
 on his heels, and made three steps towards the door, 
 muttering, " He w^ill not speak 1 Mordioux I he will not 
 speak ! " 
 
 " Thank you, Monsieur," said the king at last. 
 
 " Humph ! " continued the lieutenant ; there only 
 w^anted that, — to be blamed for having been less of a 
 fool than another might have been." And he gained the 
 door, allowing his spurs to jingle in true military style. 
 But when he was upon the threshold, feeling that the 
 king's desire drew him 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, contained so much persuasive 
 frankness that the king immediately replied, — 
 Yes; but draw near, Monsieur." 
 Now, then," murmured the ofiicer, he is coming to 
 it at last." 
 
 Listen to me." 
 
 "I will not lose a word, Sire." 
 
 "You will mount on horseback to-morrow, at about 
 half-past four in the morning, 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 ? " 
 
118 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 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 he had to say. In fact, the king dis- 
 missed him with a gracious wave of the hand. The 
 officer left the chamber of the king, and returned to 
 place himself philosophically in his fauteuil^ where, far 
 from sleeping, as might have been expected, considering 
 how late it was, he began to reflect more profoundly than 
 he had ever reflected before. The result of these reflec- 
 tions was not so melancholy as the preceding ones had 
 been. 
 
 Come, he has begun," said he. " Love urges him on, 
 and he goes forward, — he goes forward ! The king is 
 nobody in his own palace ; but the man perhaps may 
 prove to be worth something. Well, we shall see to- 
 morrow morning. Oh ! oh ! " cried he, all at once start- 
 ing up, "that is a gigantic idea, mordioiix ! and perhaps 
 my fortune depends, at least, upon that idea ! " After 
 this exclamation, the officer arose and marched, with 
 his hands in his coat-pockets, about the immense ante- 
 chamber that served him as an apartment. The wax- 
 light flamed furiously under the stirring of a fresh breeze 
 which stole in through the chinks of the door and the 
 window, and cut the hall diagonally. It threw out a 
 reddish, unequal light, sometimes brilliant, sometimes 
 dull ; and the tall shadow of the lieutenant was seen 
 marching on the wall, in profile, like a figure by Callot, 
 with his long sword and feathered hat. 
 
 " Surely," said he, " I am mistaken if Mazarin is 
 not laying a snare for this amorous boy. Mazarin, this 
 
THE KING AND THE LIEUTENANT. 119 
 
 evening, gave an address^ and made an appointment as 
 complacently as M. Dangeau himself co ild have done, — 
 I heard him, and I know the meaning of his words. 'To- 
 morrow morning,' said he, ' they will pass opposite the 
 bridge of Blois.' Mordioux ! that is clear enough, and 
 particularly for a lover. That is the cause of this embar- 
 rassment ; that is the cause of this hesitation ; that is 
 the cause of this order, — ' Monsieur the Lieutenant of 
 my Musketeers, be on horseback to-morrow at four o'clock 
 in the morning ; ' which is as clear as if he had said, 
 Monsieur the Lieutenant of my Musketeers, to-morrow, 
 at four, at the bridge of Blois, — do you understand 1 ' 
 Here is a State secret, then, which I, humble as I am, 
 have in my possession while it is in abtion. And how do 
 I get it? Because I have good eyes, as his Majesty just 
 now said. They say he loves this little Italian doll furi- 
 ously. They say he threw himself at his mother's feet, 
 to ask her to allow him to marry her. They say the 
 queen went so far as to consult the court of Rome, w^hether 
 such a marriage, contracted against her will, would be 
 valid. Oh, if I were but twenty-five ! If I had by my 
 side those I no longer have ! If I did not despise the 
 whole world most profoundly, I would embroil Maza- 
 rin with the queen-mother, France with Spain, and I 
 would make a queen after my own fashion. But let 
 that pass;" and the lieutenant snapped his fingers in 
 disdain. 
 
 " This miserable Italian, this poor creature, this sor- 
 did wretch, who has just refused the King of England a 
 million, would not perhaps give me a thousand pistoles 
 for the news I could carry him. Mordioux ! I am falling 
 into second childhood, — I am becoming stupid indeed ! 
 The idea of Mazarin giving anything ! ha ! ha ! ha ! " and 
 he laughed hilariously, though he was alone. 
 
120 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Well, let us go to sleep, — let us go to sleep ; and the 
 sooner the better. My mind is fatigued with my evening's 
 work, and will see things to-morrow more clearly than to- 
 day." 
 
 And upon this recommendation, made to himself, he 
 folded his cloak around him, thinking with contempt of 
 his royal neighbor. Five minutes after this he was asleep, 
 with his hands clenched and his lips apart, allowing to 
 escape, not his secret, but a sonorous sound, which rose 
 and spread freely beneath the majestic roof of the ante- 
 chamber. 
 
MARIE DE MANCINI. 
 
 121 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 MARIE DE MANCINI. 
 
 The sun had scarcely lighted the majestic trees of the 
 park and the lofty turrets of the castle with its first beams, 
 when the young king, who had been awake more than 
 two hours, possessed by the sleeplessness of love, opened 
 his shutters himself, and cast an inquiring look into the 
 courts of the sleeping palace. He saw that it was the 
 hour agreed upon ; the great court clock pointed to a 
 quarter-past four. He did not disturb his valet de chamhre, 
 who was sleeping profoundly at some distance ; he dressed 
 himself, and the valet, in a great fright, sprang up, think- 
 ing he had been deficient in his duty ; but the king sent 
 him back again, commanding him to preserve the most 
 absolute silence. He then descended the little staircase, 
 went out at a side-door, and perceived at the end of the 
 wall a mounted horseman, holding another horse by the 
 bridle. This horseman w\as not to be recognized in his 
 cloak and slouched hat. As to the horse, saddled like 
 that of a rich citizen, it had nothing remarkable about it 
 to the most experienced eye. Louis took the bridle ; the 
 officer held the stirrup without dismounting, and asked 
 his Majesty's orders in a low voice. 
 " Follow me," replied the king. 
 
 The officer put his horse to the trot, behind that of his 
 master, and they descended the hill towards the bridge. 
 When arrived at the other side of the Loire, " Monsieur," 
 said the king, '^you will please to ride on till you see a 
 
122 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 carriage coming ] then return and inform me. I will wait 
 here.'' 
 
 " Will your Majesty deign to give me some description 
 of the carriage I am charged to discover 1 " 
 
 ^' A carriage in which you will see two ladies, and prob- 
 ably their attendants lil^ewise." 
 
 Sire, I should not wish to make a mistake ; is there 
 no other sign by which I may know this carriage ^. " 
 
 It will bear, in all probability, the arms of Monsieur 
 the Cardinal." 
 
 That is sufficient, Sire," replied the officer, fully in- 
 structed in the object of his search. He put his horse to 
 the trot, and rode sharply on in the direction pointed out 
 by the king. But he had scarcely gone five hundred 
 paces when he saw four mules, and then a carriage, loom 
 up from behind a little hill. Behind this carriage came 
 another. It required only one glance to assure him that 
 these were the equipages he was in search of ; he there- 
 fore turned his horse, 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 contains the footmen^ provisions, and 
 necessaries." 
 
 "That is well," replied the king, in an agitated voice, 
 " Please to go and tell those ladies that a cavalier of the 
 court wishes to pay his respects to them alone." 
 
 The officer set off* at a gallop. " Mordioux ! " said he, 
 as he rode on, " here is a new and honorable employment, 
 I hope ! I complained of being nobody. I am the king's 
 confidant, — that is enough to make a musketeer burst 
 with pride." 
 
 He approached the carriage, and delivered his message 
 gallantly and intelligently. There were two ladies in the 
 carriage, — one of great beauty, although rather thin ; 
 
MARIE DE MANCINI. 
 
 123 
 
 the other less favored by nature, but livel}^ graceful, and 
 uniting in the light folds of her brow all the signs of a 
 strong will. Her eyes, in particular, animated and pierc- 
 ing, were more eloquent in expression than all the amor- 
 ous phrases in fashion in those days of gallantry. It was 
 to her D'Artagnan addressed himself, without fear of 
 being mistaken, — although the other was, as we have 
 said, the more handsome of the two. 
 
 " Madame," said he, " I am the lieutenant of the Mus- 
 keteers, and there is on the road a cavalier who awaits 
 you, and is desirous of paying his respects to you." 
 
 At these words, the effect of which he watched closely, 
 the lady with the black eyes uttered a cry of joy, leaned 
 out of the carriage window, and seeing the cavalier ap- 
 proach, 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 carriage ; and the second lady made 
 a slight reverence, terminated by the most ironical smile 
 that jealousy ever imparted to the lips of woman. 
 
 ^' Marie, dear Marie ! " cried the king, taking the hand 
 of the black-eyed lady in both his. And opening the 
 heavy door himself, he drew her out of the carriage 
 with so much ardor that she was in his arms before she 
 touched the ground. The lieutenant, posted on the 
 other side of the carriage, saw and heard all without 
 being observed. 
 
 The king offered his arm to Mademoiselle de Mancini, 
 and made a sign to the coachman and lackeys to proceed. 
 It was nearly six o'clock ; the road was fresh and pleas- 
 ant ; tall trees, with the foliage still enclosed in the 
 golden dowm of their buds, let the dew of morning filter 
 from their trembling branches, like liquid diamonds ; the 
 grass was bursting at the foot of the hedges ; the swal- 
 
124 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 lows, only a few days returned, described their graceful 
 curves between the heavens and the water ; a breeze, per- 
 fumed by the blossoming woods, sighed along the road, 
 and wrinkled the surface of the waters of the river. All 
 these beauties of the day, all these perfumes of the plants, 
 all these aspirations of the earth towards the heavens, in- 
 toxicated the two lovers, w^ho, walking side by side, lean- 
 ing upon each other, eyes fixed upon eyes, hand clasped 
 within hand, went slowly by a mutual inclination, and 
 did not venture to speak, they had so much to say. 
 
 The officer saw that the king's horse pulled this way 
 and that, and inconvenienced Mademoiselle de Mancini. 
 On the pretext of taking the horse, he drew near to them, 
 dismounted, and walking between the two horses he led, 
 did not lose a single word or gesture of the lovers. It 
 was Mademoiselle de Mancini who at length began. 
 
 " Ah, my dear sire ! " said she, " you do not abandon 
 me, thenr' 
 
 ^'No," replied the king; ^^you see I do not, Marie.'' 
 " I had been so often told, though, that as soon as 
 
 we should be separated you would no longer think of 
 
 me." 
 
 Dear Marie, is it then to-day only that you have dis- 
 covered we are surrounded by people interested in deceiv- 
 ing us ^ " 
 
 But then. Sire, this journey, thh alliance with Spain] 
 They are going to marry you ! " 
 
 Louis hung his head. At the same time the officer 
 could see in the sunlight the eyes of Marie de Mancini 
 shine with the brilliancy of a poniard starting from its 
 sheath. " And you have done nothing in favor of our 
 lovel" asked the girl, after a silence of a moment. 
 
 ^'Ah! Mademoiselle, how could you believe that? I 
 threw myself at the feet of my mother ; I begged her, I 
 
MARIE DE MANCINI. 
 
 125 
 
 implored her ; I told her all my hopes of happiness were 
 in you ; I even threatened — 
 " Well 1 " asked Marie, eagerly. 
 Well, the queen-mother wrote to the court of Rome, 
 and received as answer, that a marriage between us would 
 have no validity, and would be dissolved by the holy 
 fjither. At length, finding there was no hope for us, 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 1 " 
 
 What would you have 1 To my prayers, to my sup- 
 plications, to my tears, I received no answer but reasons 
 of State." 
 
 " W^ell, well 1 " 
 
 " Well, what is to be done. Mademoiselle, when so 
 many wills are leagued against me 1 " 
 
 It was now Marie's turn to hang her head. " Then I 
 must bid you adieu forever," said she. " You know that 
 they banish me ; you know that they bury me ; you know 
 that they go still further, — you know that they are 
 marrying me also, — me ! " 
 
 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 so persecuted 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 gallantly than passionately perhaps. 
 
 " The cardinal might have yielded," said Marie, if you 
 had addressed yourself to him, if you had pressed him. 
 For the cardinal to call the King of France his nephew ! 
 — do you not perceive. Sire 1 He would have made war 
 
126 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 even for that honor ; the cardinal assured of governing 
 alone, under the double pretext of having brought up the 
 king, and given his niece to him in marriage, — the cardi- 
 nal would have combated all wills, 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 of heightening his passion, they cooled it. He 
 stopped, and said with precipitation: ^'What is to be 
 said, Mademoiselle '? Everything has failed." 
 Except your will, I trust, my dear sire 1 " 
 
 " Alas ! " said the king, coloring, " have I a wilH " 
 Oh ! " Mademoiselle de Mancini murmured mourn- 
 fully, wounded by that expression. 
 
 The king has no will but that which policy dictates, 
 but that which reasons of State impose upon him." 
 
 " Oh ! it is because you have no love," cried Marie ; " if 
 you loved, Sire, you would have a will." 
 
 On pronouncing these words, Marie raised her eyes to 
 her lover, whom she saw more pale and more cast down 
 than an exile who is about to quit his native land forever. 
 
 Accuse me," murmured the king, " but do not say I do 
 not love you." 
 
 A long silence followed these words, which the young 
 king had pronounced with a perfectly true and profound 
 feeling. 
 
 I am unable to think, Sire," continued Marie, that 
 to-morrow, and after to-morrow, I shall see you no more ; 
 I cannot think that I am going to end my sad days at a 
 distance from Paris ; that the lips of an old man, of an 
 unknown, should touch that hand which you hold within 
 yours, — no, in truth, I cannot think of all that, my dear 
 sire, without my poor heart bursting with despair." 
 And Marie de Mancini did shed floods of tears. On 
 
MARIE DE MANCINI. 
 
 127 
 
 his part, the king, 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 has come ; what you are about to 
 decide upon will be decided for life. Oh, Sire ! you are 
 willing, then, that I should lose you ] You are willing, 
 then, Louis, that she to whom you have said ^ I love you ' 
 should biBlong to another man than her king, her master, 
 her lover ? Oh ! courage, Louis ! courage ! One word, 
 a single word ! Say ^ I will ! ' and all my life is enchained 
 to yours, and all my heart is yours forever." 
 
 The king made no reply. Marie then looked at him as 
 Dido looked at ^neas in the Elysian fields, fiercely and 
 disdainfully. Adieu, then," said she; *^ adieu life! adieu 
 love ! adieu heaven ! " 
 
 And she made a step to depart. The king detained 
 her, seized her hand, which he glued to his lips, and, de- 
 spair prevailing over the resolution he appeared to have 
 inwardly formed, he let fall upon that beautiful hand a 
 burning tear of regret, which made Marie start, so really 
 had that tear burned her. She saw the humid eyes of 
 the king, his pale brow, his convulsed lips, and cried with 
 an accent that cannot be described : Oh, Sire ! you are 
 a king, you weep, and I depart ! " 
 
 As his sole reply, the king concealed his face in his 
 handkerchief. The officer here uttered something so like 
 a roar that it frightened the horses. Mademoiselle de 
 Mancini, quite indignant, quitted the king's arm, got 
 precipitately into the carriage, crying to the coachman, 
 " Go on, go on quickly ! " 
 
 The coachman obeyed, flogged his mules, and the 
 heavy carriage rocked upon its creaking axle ; while the 
 King of France, alone, cast down, annihilated, did not 
 dare to look either behind or before him. 
 
128 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 IN WHICH THE KING AND THE LIEUTENANT EACH GIVE 
 PROOFS OF MEMORY. 
 
 When the king, like all the people in the world who are 
 in love, had long and attentively watched the disappear- 
 ance in the horizon of the carriage which bore away his 
 mistress ; when he had turned and turned again a hun- 
 dred times to the same way, and had at length succeeded 
 in calming in a degree the agitation of his heart and 
 thoughts, he recollected that he was not alone. The 
 officer still held the horse by the bridle, and had not lost 
 all hope of seeing the king recover his resolution. He 
 had still the resource of mounting, and riding after the 
 carriage ; they would have lost nothing by waiting a 
 little. But the imagination of the lieutenant was too 
 rich and too brilliant; it left fjxr behind it that of the 
 king, who took care not to allow himself to be carried 
 away by any such luxurious excess. He contented him- 
 self with approaching the officer, and in a doleful voice, 
 
 Come," said he, " all is ended. To horse ! " 
 
 The officer imitated this carriage, this slowness, this 
 sadness, and leisurely mounted his horse. The king 
 pushed on sharply ; the lieutenant followed him. At the 
 bridge Louis turned round for the last time. The lieu- 
 tenant, patient as a god who has eternity behind and 
 before him, still hoped for a return of energy, — but in 
 vain ; nothing happened. Louis gained the street which 
 led to the castle, and entered as seven was striking. 
 
PROOFS OF MEMORY. 
 
 129 
 
 When the king had returned, and the musketeer, who 
 saw everything, had seen a corner of the tapestry rise 
 at the window of the cardinal, he breathed a profound 
 sigh, like a man unloosed from the tightest bonds, and 
 said in a low voice : Now then, my officer, I hope that 
 it is over." 
 
 The king summoned his gentleman. " Please to under- 
 stand I shall receive nobody before two o'clock," said he. 
 
 Sire," replied the gentleman, ^' there is, however, some 
 one who requests admittance." 
 
 ''Who is thatl" 
 
 ''Your lieutenant of Musketeers." 
 " He who accompanied me? " 
 "Yes, Sire." 
 
 " Ah ! " said the king, " let him come in." 
 
 Tlie officer entered. The king made a sign, and the 
 gentleman and the valet retired. Louis followed them 
 with his eyes until they had shut the door, and when the 
 tapestries had fallen behind them, — "You remind me 
 by your presence, Monsieur, of something I had forgotten 
 to recommend to yon, — that is to say, the most absolute 
 discretion." 
 
 " Oh ! Sire, why does your Majesty give yourself the 
 trouble of making me such a recommendation 1 It is 
 plain you do not know me." 
 
 '* Yes, Monsieur, that is true. I know that you are 
 discreet; but as I had prescribed 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 1 " 
 
 " What have you to say to me 1 Explain yourself, 
 Monsieur." 
 
 VOL. I. — 9 
 
130 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 "Sire, a thing without importance to yon, but which 
 interests me greatly. Pardon me, then, for speaking of 
 it. Without urgency, without necessity, I never would 
 have done it, and I would have disappeared, mute and 
 insignificant as I always have been." 
 
 " HowM Disappeared! I do not understand you, 
 ]\ronsieur." 
 
 Sire, in a word/' said the officer, I have come to ask 
 for my discharge from your Majesty's service." 
 
 The king made a movement of surprise, but the officer 
 remained as motionless as a statue. 
 
 Your discharge — yours, Monsieur 1 and for how long 
 a time, I pray 1 " 
 
 Why, forever, Sire." 
 "What! you would quit my service. Monsieur'?" said 
 Louis, with an expression that revealed something more 
 than surprise. 
 
 " Sire, I have that regret." 
 " Impossible ! " 
 
 " It is so, however. Sire. I am getting old ; I have 
 w^orn harness now thirty-four or thirty-five years ; my 
 poor shoulders are tired ; I feel that I must give place to 
 the young. I don't belong to this age ; I have still one 
 foot in the old one ; and in consequence everything is 
 strange in my eyes, everything astonishes and bewilders 
 me. In short, I have the honor to ask your Majesty for 
 my discharge." 
 
 "Monsieur," said the king, looking at the officer, who 
 wore his uniform with an ease that w^ould have awakened 
 envy in a young man, "j'ou are stronger and more 
 vigorous than I am." 
 
 " Oh ! " replied the officer, with an air of assumed mod- 
 esty, "your Majesty says so because I still have a good eye 
 and a tolerably firm foot, because I can still ride a horse. 
 
PROOFS OF MEMORY. 
 
 131 
 
 and my^mustaclie is black ; but, Sire, vanity of vanities 
 all that, illusions all that, — appearance, smoke, Sire ! I 
 have still a young air, it is true, hut I am old at bottom ; 
 and within six months I feel certain I shall be broken 
 down, gouty, impotent. Therefore, Sire — " 
 
 " Monsieur," interrupted the king, " remember your 
 words of yesterday. You said to me, in that very place 
 where you now are, that you were endowed with better 
 health than any other man in France ; that fatigue was 
 unkuown to you ; that you cared not for passing whole 
 days and nights at your post. Did you tell me that, 
 Monsieur, or nof? Exercise your memory. Monsieur." 
 
 The officer breathed a sigh. Sire," said he, old age 
 is boastful ; and it is pardonable for old men to sound 
 their own praises when others no longer praise them. It 
 is very possible I said that ; but the fact is, Sire, I am 
 very much fatigued, and request permission to retire." 
 
 ^' Monsieur," said the kiug, advancing towards the offi- 
 cer with a gesture at once full of address and majesty, 
 ^'you are not assigning me the true reason. You wish 
 to quit my service, it may be true, but you disguise from 
 me the motive for your retreat." 
 
 "Sire, believe that — " 
 
 "I believe what I see. Monsieur; I see a vigorous, en- 
 ergetic man, full of presence of mind, the best soldier in 
 France perhaps; and this person cannot persuade me the 
 least in the world that he stands in need of rest." 
 
 " Ah^ Sire," said the lieutenant, with bitterness, " what 
 praises ! Indeed, your Majesty confounds me ! Ener- 
 getic, vigorous, brave, intelligent, the best soldier in the 
 army ! But, Sire, your Majesty exaggerates my small 
 portion of merit to such a point that, however good an 
 opinion I may have of myself, in very truth I no longer 
 recognize myself. If I were vain enough to believe only 
 
132 
 
 THE YICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 half of your Majesty's words, I should consider myself a 
 valuable, indispensable man. I should say that a ser- 
 vant possessed of such brilliant qualities was a treasure 
 beyond all price. Now, Sire, I have been all my life, — - 1 
 feel bound to say it, — except at the present time, appre- 
 ciated, in my opinion, much beneath my value. I there- 
 fore repeat, your Majesty exaggerates." 
 
 The king knitted his brow, for he saw a bitter raillery 
 beneath the words of the officer. ^' Come, Monsieur," 
 said he, "let us meet the question frankly. Tell me, are 
 you dissatisfied with my service? No evasions; speak 
 boldly, frankly, — I demand it." 
 
 The officer, who had been twisting his hat in his hands 
 with an embarrassed air for several minutes, raised his 
 head at these words. " Oh, Sire," said he, " that puts 
 me a little more at my ease. To a question put so frankly, 
 I will reply frankly. To tell the truth is a good thing, — 
 as much from the pleasure one feels in relieving one's 
 heart, as on account of its rarity. I will speak the truth, 
 then, to my king, at the same time imploring him to 
 excuse the frankness of an old soldier." 
 
 Louis looked at his officer with anxious inquietude, 
 w^hich was manifested by the agitation of his gesture. 
 
 Well, then, speak," said he, " for I am impatient to hear 
 the truths you have to tell me." 
 
 The officer threw his hat upon a table, and his coun- 
 tenance, always so intelligent and martial, assumed all 
 at once a strange character of grandeur and solemnity. 
 
 Sire," said he, " I quit the king's service because I am 
 dissatisfied. The valet, in these times, can approach his 
 master as respectfully as I do, can give him an account of 
 his labor, bring back his tools, render the funds that have 
 been intrusted to him, and say, ' Master, my day's work 
 is done ; pay me, if you please, and let us part.' " 
 
PROOFS OF MEMORY. 
 
 133 
 
 " Monsieur ! Monsieur ! " exclaimed the king, purple 
 with rage. 
 
 Ah, Sire/' replied the officer, bending his knee for a 
 moment, never was servant more respectful than I am 
 before your Majesty ; only you commanded me to tell 
 the truth. Now I have begun to tell it, it must come 
 out, even if you command me to hold my tongue." 
 
 There was so much resolution expressed in the deep- 
 sunk muscles of the officer's countenance that Louis XIV. 
 had no occasion to tell him to continue ; he continued, 
 then, while the king looked at him with a curiosity 
 mingled with admiration : — 
 
 " Sire, I have, as I have said, now served the house of 
 France thirty-five years ; few people have worn out so 
 many swords in that service as I have, and the swords I 
 speak of were good swords too, Sire. I was a boy, igno- 
 rant of everything except courage, when the king your 
 father divined that there was a man in me. I was a man. 
 Sire, when the Cardinal de Richelieu, who was a judge of 
 manhood, divined an enemy in me. Sire, the history of 
 that enmity between the ant and the lion may be read, 
 from the first to the last line, in the secret archives of 
 your family. If ever you feel an inclination to view it, 
 do it, Sire; the history is worth the trouble, — it is I 
 who tell you so. You \vill there read that the lion, 
 fatigued, harassed, out of breath, at length cried for 
 quarter ; and the justice must be rendered him to say that 
 he gave as much as he required. Oh ! those were glori- 
 ous times. Sire, strewed over with battles like one of 
 Tasso's or Ariosto's epics ! The wonders of those times, to 
 which the people of ours would refuse belief, were every- 
 day occurrences. For five years together I was a hero 
 every day, — at least, so I was told by personages of 
 merit, — and that is a long period for heroism, trust me. 
 
134 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Sire, a period of five years. Nevertheless, I have faith in 
 what these people told me, for they were good judges. 
 They were named M. de Eiclielien, M. de Buckingham, 
 M. de Beaufort, M. de Eetz, — a rough geuius himself in 
 street warfare, — in short, the king Louis XIII., and 
 even the queen, your august mother, who one day conde- 
 scended to say, ' Thank you.^ I don't know what service 
 I had had the good fortune to render her. Pardon me, 
 Sire, for speaking so boldly ; but what I relate to you, as 
 I have already had the honor to tell your Majesty, is 
 history." 
 
 The king bit his lips, and threw himself violently into 
 his fauteuiL 
 
 I appear importunate to your Majesty," said the lieu- 
 tenant. "Eh! Sire, that is the fate of truth; she is a 
 stern companion ; she bristles all over with steel ; she 
 wounds those she attacks, and sometimes him who de- 
 livers 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 the regency, 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 a beautiful lot then ! I was the favorite of M. 
 de Mazarin. Lieutenant here ! lieutenant there ! lieuten- 
 ant to the right ! lieutenant to the left ! There was not a 
 buffet dealt in France, of which your humble servant was 
 not charged with the dealing. But they soon became not 
 contented with France ; Monsieur the Cardinal, he sent 
 me to England on Cromwell's account, — another gentle- 
 man who was not over gentle, I assure you, Sire. I had 
 
PROOFS OF MEMORY. 
 
 135 
 
 the honor to know him, and I was well able to appreciate 
 him. A great deal was promised me on account of that 
 mission. So, as I did in it quite contrary to all I had 
 been bidden to do, I was generously paid, for I was at 
 length appointed captain of the Musketeers ; that is to 
 say, to the post most envied at court, which gives prece- 
 dence before the marshals of France, — and with justice : 
 for when one mentions the captain of the Musketeers 
 he speaks of the flower of the soldiers and the king of 
 the brave." 
 
 Captain, Monsieur!" interrupted the king; "you 
 make a mistake. Lieutenant, you mean to say." 
 
 " Not at all. Sire, — I make no mistake ; your Majesty 
 may rely upon me in that respect. Monsieur the Cardi- 
 nal gave me the connnission himself." 
 
 " Well ! " 
 
 " But M. de Mazarin, as you know better than any- 
 body, does not often give, and sometimes takes back what 
 he has given ; he took it back again as soon as peace was 
 made and he was no longer in want of me. True enough, 
 I was not worthy to replace M. de Treville, of illustrious 
 memory ; but they had promised me, and they had given 
 me ; they ought to have stopped there." 
 
 "Is that what dissatisfies you, Monsieur? Well, I will 
 make inquiries. I love justice ; and your claim, though 
 made in military fashion, does not displease me." 
 
 "Oh, Sire!" said the officer, "your Majesty has ill 
 understood me ; I no longer claim anything now." 
 
 " Excess of delicacy, Monsieur ; but I will keep my 
 eye upon your affairs, and hereafter — " 
 
 "Oh, Sire! what a word! — hereafter! Thirty years 
 have I lived upon that promising word, which has been 
 pronounced by so many great personages, and which 
 your mouth has, in its turn, just pronounced. Here- 
 
136 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 after ! that is how I have received a score of wounds, 
 and how I have reached fifty-four years of age, without 
 ever having had a louis in my purse, and without ever 
 having met with a protector in my road, — I, who have 
 protected so many people 1 So I change my formula, 
 Sire ; and when any one says to me ' Hereafter' I reply 
 ^ Now.^ It is repose I solicit. Sire. That may be easily 
 granted me. That will cost nobody anything." 
 
 ^' I did not look for this language, Monsieur, particu- 
 larly from a man who has always lived among the great. 
 You forget you are speaking to the king, to a gentleman 
 who is, I suppose, of as good a house as yourself ; and 
 when / say ' Hereafter,' it is a certainty." 
 
 " I do not at all doubt it. Sire ; but this is the end of 
 the terrible truth I had to tell you. If I were to see 
 upon that table a marshal's baton, the sword of con- 
 stable, the crown of Poland, instead of Hereafter^ I swear 
 to you. Sire, that I should still say Now ! Oh^ excuse 
 me. Sire ! I am from the country of your grandfathei", 
 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, it appears," said Louis, haughtily. 
 
 " Forgetfulness, forgetfulness everywhere!" cried the 
 officer, with a noble air; ''the master has forgotten the 
 servant, so that the servant is reduced to forget his 
 master. I live in unfortunate times. Sire. I see youth 
 full of discouragement and fear, I see it timid and de- 
 spoiled, when it ought to be rich and powerful. I yes- 
 terday evening, for example, open the door of the King 
 of France to a King of England, whose father, humble as 
 I am, I was near saving, if God had not been against me, 
 — God, who inspired his elect, Cromwell ! I open, I said, 
 the door, that is to say, of the palace of one brother to 
 
PROOFS OF MEMORY. 
 
 137 
 
 another brother, and I see — stop, Sire, that presses upon 
 my heart ! — I see the minister of that king drive away 
 the proscribed prince, and humiliate his master by con- 
 demning to want another king, his equal. Then I see 
 my prince, who is young, handsome, and brave, who has 
 courage in his heart and lightning in his eye, — I see him 
 tremble before a priest, who laughs at him behind the 
 curtains of his alcove, where upon his bed he absorbs all 
 the gold of France, which he afterwards staffs into secret 
 coffers. Yes, I understand your looks, Sire. I am bold 
 to madness; 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 any one who should 
 dare to pronounce them before me. You have com- 
 manded me to pour out my heart before you, Sire, and 
 I cast at the feet of your Majesty the bile which I have 
 been collecting during thirty years, as I would pour out 
 all my blood, if your Majesty commanded me to do 
 so.'' 
 
 The king, without speaking a word, wiped the drops 
 of cold and abundant sweat which trickled from 'his 
 temples. The moment of silence which followed this 
 vehement outbreak represented for him who had spoken, 
 and for him who had listened, ages of suffering. 
 
 •^'Monsieur," said the king, at length, "you have pro- 
 nounced 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 
 proof is, that I remember that one day of riot, — that one 
 day in which the furious people, furious and roaring as 
 the sea, invaded the royal palace, — that one day when 
 I feigned to sleep in my bed, one man alone, naked 
 sword in hand, concealed behind my bolster, watched 
 over my life, ready to risk his own for me, as he had 
 
188 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 before risked it twenty times for the lives of my family. 
 Was not the gentleman, whose name I then demanded, 
 called M. d'Artagnan'? Tell me, Monsieur." 
 
 "Your Majesty has a good memory," replied the 
 officer, coldly. 
 
 You see, then," continued the king, " if I have such 
 remembrances of my childhood, what a power of remem- 
 brance I may acquire in the years of reason." 
 
 " Your Majesty has been richly endowed by God," said 
 the officer, in the same tone. 
 
 ^'Come, M. d'Artagnan," continued Louis, with fever- 
 ish 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 1 " 
 
 " I wait." 
 
 Your Majesty may do so, because you are young ; 
 but I, Sire, have not time to wait : old age is at my door, 
 and death follows, looking into the very depths of my 
 house. Your Majesty is beginning life, its future is full 
 of hope and fortune ; but I, Sire, — I am at the other side 
 of the horizon, and we are so far from each other that 
 I should never have time to wait till your Majesty came 
 up to me." 
 
 Louis made another turn in his apartment, still wiping 
 the sw^eat from his brow^, in a manner that would have 
 terrified his physicians, if his physicians had witnessed 
 the state his Majesty was in. 
 
 ^'Yery well. Monsieur," said Louis XIV., in a sharp 
 voice; "you desire your discharge, and you shall have it. 
 You offer me your 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." 
 
PROOFS OF MEMORY. 
 
 139 
 
 "Monsieur," said the king, with a violent effort, 
 think you are losing a good master." 
 
 ^' And I am sure of it, Sire." 
 
 " Shall you ever find such another ] " 
 
 " Oh, Sire ! I know that your Majesty is without equal 
 in the world ; therefore will I never again take service 
 with any king upon earth, and will never again have 
 other master than myself." 
 
 "You say soT' 
 
 " 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 fail your Majesty in this instance, in order that 
 you might forget all the miseries I have been forced to 
 spread before your eyes. Your Majesty is so 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 
 lustre to some, warmth to others, life to all. Adieu, 
 M. d'Artagnan, adieu ; you are free." 
 
 And the king, with a hoarse sob, which was lost in his 
 throat, passed quickly into the next chamber. D'Artagnan 
 took up his hat from the table, upon which he had thrown 
 it, and went out. 
 
140 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 THE PROSCRIBED. 
 
 D'Aeitagnan had not reached the bottom of the staircase, 
 when the king called his gentleman. I have a commis- 
 sion to give you, Monsieur," said he. 
 
 ^' 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 something like a feeling of 
 triumph glittered in his eyes. 
 
 Monsieur the Cardinal, — Thanks to your good coun- 
 sels, and, above all, thanks to your firmness, I have succeeded 
 in overcoming a weakness unworthy of a king. You have so 
 ably arranged my destiny that I have been arrested by grat- 
 itude at the moment I was about to destroy your work. I 
 have perceived that I was wrong in wishing to make my life 
 deviate from the course you had marked out for it. Assuredly 
 it would have been a misfortune to France and my family if a 
 misunderstanding had taken place between me and my min- 
 ister. This, however, would certainly have happened if I had 
 made your niece my wife. I am perfectly aware of this, and 
 will henceforth oppose nothing to the accomplishment of my 
 destiny. I am prepared, then, to marry the Infanta Maria 
 Theresa. You may at once open the conference. 
 
 Your affectionate Louis. 
 
 The king, after re-perusing the letter, sealed it himself, 
 ^' This letter for Monsieur the Cardinal," said he. 
 
THE PROSCRIBED. 
 
 141 
 
 The gentleman took it. At Mazarin's door he found 
 Bernouin waiting with anxiety. 
 
 Wein" asked the minister's valet de cliamhre, 
 
 " Monsieur," said the gentleman, ''here is a letter for 
 his Eminence." 
 
 ^' A letter ! Ah ! we expected one, after the little jour- 
 ney of the morniug." 
 
 *'0h ! you knew, then, that his Majesty — " 
 
 '' In quality of first minister, it belongs to the duties of 
 our charge to know everything. And his Majesty prays 
 and implores, I presume." 
 
 I don't know ; but he sighed frequently while he was 
 writing." 
 
 " Yes, yes, yes ; we understand all that : people 
 sigh sometimes from happiness 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 saw his Maj- 
 esty only on his return, for he was unaccompanied except 
 by the lieutenant of the Guards. But T had his Emi- 
 nence's telescope; I looked through it when he was tired, 
 and I am sure they both wept." 
 
 '' Well ! was it for happiness they wepf? " 
 
 " No, but for love ; and they vowed to each other a 
 thousand tendernesses, which the king asks no better 
 than to fulfil. Now, this letter is a beginning of the 
 fulfilment." 
 
 ''And what does his Eminence think of this love, which 
 is, by the by, no secret to anybody ? " 
 
 Bernouin took the messenger of Louis by the arm, and 
 while ascending the staircase, — "In confidence," said he, 
 in a low voice, " his Eminence looks for success in the 
 affair. I know very well we shall have w^ar with Spain ; 
 
142 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BEAGELONNE. 
 
 but, bah ! war will please the nobles. Monsieur the Car- 
 dinal, besides, can endow his niece royally, nay, more 
 than royally. There will be money, festivities, and fire- 
 works, — everybody will be delighted." 
 
 " Well, for my part,'' replied the gentleman, shaking 
 his head, " it appears to me that this letter is very light 
 to contain all that." 
 
 ^' My friend,'' replied Bernonin, I am certain of what 
 I say. M. d'x\rtagnan has told me all." 
 
 " Ay, ay! and what did he tell you? Let us hear." 
 
 " I accosted him by asking him, on the part of the car- 
 dinal, if there were any news, — without discovering 
 my designs, observe, for M. d'Artagnan is a cunning 
 hand. 'My dear M. Bernouin,' he replied, ' the king is 
 madly in love with Mademoiselle de Mancini, — that is 
 all I have to tell you.' And then I asked him : ^ To such 
 a degree, do you think, that it will urge him to act con- 
 trary to the designs of his Eminence? ' ' Ah ! don't ques- 
 tion me,' said he ; 'I think the king capable of anything : 
 he has a head of iron, and what he wills he wills in 
 earnest. If he takes it into his head to marry Mademoi- 
 selle de Mancini, he will marry her.' And thereupon he 
 left me and went straight to the stables, took a horse, 
 saddled it himself, jumped upon its back, and set off 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 he was willing to say." 
 
 In your opinion, then, M. d'Artagnan — " 
 Has gone, according to all probability, after the exiles, 
 to take all measures for the success of the king's love." 
 
 Chatting thus, the two confidants arrived at the door 
 of his Eminence's appartement. His Eminence's gout 
 had left him ; he was walking about his chamber in a 
 
THE PROSCRIBED. 
 
 143 
 
 state of great anxiety, listening at doors and looking out 
 of windows. Bernoain entered, followed by the gentle- 
 man, who had orders from 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, an expression convenient for the 
 concealment of emotions of whatever sort they might be. 
 So prepared, whatever was the impression received from 
 the letter, no reflection of that impression was allowed to 
 appear upon his countenance. 
 
 Well ! said he, when he had read and re-read the 
 letter, " exceedingly well, Monsieur ! Inform the king- 
 that I thank him for his obedience to the wishes of the 
 queen-mother, and that I will set about doing everything 
 for the accomplishment of his will." 
 
 The geutleman left the room. The door had scarcely 
 closed before the cardinal, who had no mask for Bernouin, 
 took off that with w^hich he had so recently covered his 
 face, and with his most sombre expression, — " Call M. de 
 Brienne," said he. Five minutes afterwards, the secretary 
 entered. 
 
 Monsieur," said Mazarin, " I have just rendered a 
 great service to the monarchy, the greatest I have ever 
 rendered it. You will carry this letter, which proves it, 
 to her Majesty the queen-mother; and when she shall 
 have returned it to you, you will lodge it in portfolio B, 
 wliich is filled with documents and papers relative to my 
 ministr3\" 
 
 Brienne went as desired, and, as the letter was un- 
 sealed, did not fail to read it on his way. And of course 
 Bernouin, who was on good terms with everybody, ap- 
 proached so near to the secretary as to be able to read 
 the letter over his shoulder; so that the news spread with 
 such activity through the castle, that Mazarin feared for 
 
144 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 a moment it would reach the ears of the queen-mother 
 before M. de Brienne could convey Louis XIV.'s letter to 
 her. A moment after, orders were given for departure ; 
 and M. de Conde, having been to pay his respects to the 
 king at his pretended rising, inscribed the city of Poitiers 
 upon his tablets, as the place of sojourn and repose for 
 their Majesties. Thus in a few instants was unravelled 
 an intrigue which had covertly occupied all the diploma- 
 cies of Europe. It had nothing, however, very clear as a 
 result, but to make a poor lieutenant of Musketeers lose 
 his commission and his fortune. It is true that in ex- 
 change he gained his liberty. We shall soon know how 
 M. d'Artagnan profited by this. For the moment, if the 
 reader will permit us, we will return to the hostelry of 
 the Medici, of which one of the windows opened at the 
 very moment the orders were given for the departure of 
 the king. 
 
 The window that opened was that of one of the cham- 
 bers of Charles II. The unfortunate prince had passed 
 the night in reflection, his head supported by his hands, 
 and his elbows on the table ; while Parry, infirm and old, 
 fatigued in body and in mind, had fallen asleep in a 
 corner. A singular fortune was that of this faithful ser- 
 vant, who saw recommencing for the second generation 
 the fearful series of misfortunes which had weighed so 
 heavily on the first. When Charles II. had w^ell thought 
 over the fresh defeat he had experienced, when he per- 
 fectly comprehended the complete isolation into which 
 he had just fallen, on seeing his fresh hope left behind 
 him, he was seized as with a vertigo, and sank back in 
 the large fauteidl in which he was seated. Then God 
 took pity on the unhappy prince, and sent to console him 
 sleep, the innocent brother of death. He did not wake 
 till half-past six, — that is to say, till the sun shone brightly 
 
THE PROSCEIBED. 
 
 145 
 
 into his chamber ; and Parry, motionless through fear of 
 waking him, was observing with profound grief the eyes 
 of the young man already red with wakefulness, and his 
 cheeks pale with suffering and privations. 
 
 At length the noise of some heavy carts descending 
 towards the Loire awakened Charles. He arose, looked 
 around him like a man who has forgotten everything, 
 perceived Parry, shook him by the hand, and commanded 
 him to settle the reckoning with Master Cropole. Mas- 
 ter Cropole, being called upon to settle his account with 
 Parry, acquitted himself, it must be allowed, like an hon- 
 est man ; he only made his customary remark, that the 
 two travellers had eaten nothing, which had the double 
 disadvantage of being humiliating for his kitchen, and of 
 forcing him to ask payment for a repast not consumed, 
 but not the less lost. Parry had nothing to reply, 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 a misfortune for travellers 
 like us, who have a long journey to make, to have our 
 horses fail us." 
 
 But Cropole, at this doubt, assumed his majestic air, 
 and replied that the manger of the Medici was not less 
 hospitable than its refectory. 
 
 The king mounted his horse ; his old servant did the 
 same ; and both set out towards Paris, without meeting a 
 single person on their road, in the streets or the faubourgs 
 of the city. For the prince the blow was the more severe, 
 because it was another banishment. The unfortunate 
 cling to the smallest hopes, as the happy do to the great- 
 est good ; and when they are obliged to quit the place 
 where that hope has soothed their hearts, they experience 
 the mortal regret which the banished man feels when he 
 
 VOL. I. — 10 
 
146 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 places his foot upon the vessel which is to bear him into 
 exile. It appears that the heart already wounded so 
 many times suffers from the least scratch ; it appears 
 that it considers as a good the momentary absence of evil, 
 which is nothing but the absence of pain ; and that God, 
 into the most terrible misfortunes, has thrown hope as 
 the drop of water which the rich bad man in hell entreated 
 of Lazarus. 
 
 For one instant even the hope of Charles II. had been 
 more than a fugitive joy ; that was when he found him- 
 self so kindly welcomed by his brother Louis ; then it 
 had taken a form and had become a reality ; then, all at 
 once, the refusal of Mazarin had reduced the factitious 
 reality to the state of a dream. This promise of Louis 
 XIV., so soon withdrawn, had been nothing but a mock- 
 ery, — a mockery like his crow-n, like his sceptre, like 
 his friends, like all that had surrounded his royal child- 
 hood, and had abandoned his proscribed youth. Mockery ! 
 everything was a mockery for Charles II. except the cold, 
 black repose promised by death. 
 
 Such were the ideas of the unfortunate prince while 
 sitting listlessly upon his horse, to which he abandoned 
 the reins. He rode along slowly beneath the warm and 
 pleasant sun of May, in which the sombre misanthropy 
 of the exile perceived a last insult to his grief. 
 
REMEMBER ! " 
 
 147 
 
 CHAPTER XVL 
 
 REMEMBER ! " 
 
 A HORSEMAN who was riding rapidly along the road lead- 
 ing towards Blois, which he had left nearly half an hour 
 before, passed the two travellers, and, though apparently 
 in haste, raised his hat as he went by. The king scarcely 
 observed this young man, who w^as about twenty-five 
 years of age. Turning round several times, he made 
 friendly gestures to a man standing before the gate of a 
 handsome white-and-red house, — that is to say, built of 
 brick and stone, w^ith a slated roof, situated on the left 
 hand of the road the prince was travelling. 
 
 This man, old, tall, and thin, with white hair, — we 
 speak of the man standing by the gate, — this man replied 
 to the farewell signals of the youth by signs of parting as 
 tender as could have been made by a father. The young 
 man disappeared at the first turning of the road, bordered 
 by fine trees ; and the old man was preparing to return to 
 the house, when the two travellers, arriving in front of 
 the gate, attracted his attention. 
 
 The king, we have said, was riding with his head cast 
 down, his arms inert, leaving his horse to go what pace 
 he liked ; while Parry, behind him, the better to imbibe 
 the genial influence of the sun, had taken off his hat, and 
 was looking about to the right and left. His eyes en- 
 countered those of the old man leaning against the gate, 
 who, as if struck by some strange spectacle, uttered an 
 exclamation, and made one step towards the two travellers. 
 
148 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 From Parry his eyes immediately turned towards the 
 king, upon whom they stopped for an instant. This ex- 
 amination, however rapid, was reflected instantly in a 
 visible manner upon the features of the tall old man. 
 For scarcely had he recognized the younger of the travel- 
 lers — and we say recognized, for nothing but a perfect 
 recognition could have explained such an act — scarcely, 
 we say, had he recognized the younger of the two travel- 
 lers, than he joined his hands in respectful surprise, and 
 raising his hat from his head, bowed so profoundly that 
 it might have been said he was kneeling. This demon- 
 stration, however distracted, or rather however absorbed, 
 was the king in his reflections, attracted his attention in- 
 stantly ; and checking his horse and turning towards 
 Parry, he exclaimed, ^' Good God, Parry ! who is that man 
 who salutes me in such a marked manner 1 Can he know 
 me, think you 1 " 
 
 Parry, much agitated and very pale, had already turned 
 his horse towards the gate. ''Ah, Sire!" said he, stop- 
 ping suddenly at five or six paces' distance from the still 
 bending old man ; " Sire, I am seized with astonishment, 
 for I think I recognize that brave man. Yes, it must be 
 he ! Will your Majesty permit me to speak to him V* 
 
 '' Certainly." 
 Can it be you, M. Grimaud?" asked Parry. 
 
 **Yes, it is,'' replied the tall old man, straightening 
 himself, but without abandoning his respectful attitude. 
 
 " Sire," then said Parry, I was not deceived. This 
 good man is the servant of the Comte de la Fere ; and the 
 Comte de la Fere, if you remember, is the worthy gentle- 
 man of whom I have so often spoken to your Majesty 
 that the remembrance of him must remain, not only in 
 your mind, but in your heart." 
 
 He who was present at the last moments of the 
 
REMEMBER ! " 
 
 149 
 
 king my father 1" asked Charles, evidently affected at 
 the remembrance. 
 " The same, Sire." 
 
 " Alas ! " said Charles ; and then addressing Grimaud, 
 whose penetrating and intelligent eyes seemed to search 
 and divine his thoughts, "My friend," said he, **does 
 your master, M. le Comte de la Fere, live in this 
 neighborhood '? " 
 
 " There," replied Grimaud, pointing with his out- 
 stretched arm to the white-and-red house behind the 
 gate. 
 
 And is M. 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 oppor- 
 tunity, so precious for me, to thank the gentleman to 
 whom our house is indebted for such a noble example of 
 devotedness and generosity. Hold my horse, my friend, 
 if you please." And, throwing the bridle to Grimaud, 
 the king entered the abode of Athos, quite alone, as one 
 equal enters the dwelling of another. Charles had been 
 informed by the concise explanation of Grimaud, ^'At 
 the back, under the chestnut-trees ; " he left, therefore, 
 the house on the left, and went straight down the path 
 indicated. The thing was easy ; the tops of those noble 
 trees, already covered with leaves and flowers, rose above 
 all the rest. On arriving under the lozenges, by turns 
 luminous and dark, which checkered the ground of this 
 path according as the trees were more or less in leaf, the 
 young prince perceived a gentleman walking with his 
 arms behind him, apparently plunged in a profound 
 reverie. No doubt he had often had this gentleman 
 described to him, for without hesitating, Charles II. 
 walked straight up to him. At the sound of his foot- 
 steps the Comte de la Fere raised his head, and seeing 
 
150 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 an unknown man of a noble and elegant carriage coming 
 towards him, he lifted his hat and waited. At some 
 paces from him, Charles II. likewise took off his hat. 
 Then, as if in reply to the count's mute interrogation, — 
 Monsieur the Count," said he, " I come to discharge 
 a duty towards you. I have, for a long time, had the 
 expression of a profound gratitude to bring you. I am 
 Charles II., son of Charles Stuart, who reigned in Eng- 
 land, and died on the scaffold." 
 
 On hearing this illustrious name, Athos felt a kind of 
 shudder creep through his veins ; but at the sight of the 
 young prince standing uncovered before him and stretch- 
 ing out his hand towards him, two tears, for an instant, 
 dimmed his brilliant eyes. He bent respectfully, but the 
 prince took him by the hand. 
 
 " See how unfortunate I am, Monsieur the Count ; it 
 is only due to chance that I have met with you. Alas! 
 I ought to have people around me whom I love and 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 recognized mine, 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 first part of the king's speech, and with 
 a bow to the second, — " it is but too true, indeed, that 
 your Majesty has seen very evil days." 
 
 " And worse, alas ! replied Charles, are perhaps still 
 to come." 
 
 Sire, let us hope." 
 
 "Count, Count," continued Charles, shaking his head, 
 " I entertained hope till last night, in the manner of a 
 good Christian, I assure you." 
 
 Athos looked at the king as if to question him. 
 
 " Oh, the story is soon told/' said Charles. Pro- 
 
REMEMBER ! 
 
 151 
 
 scribed, despoiled, disdained. I resolved, in spite of all 
 my repugnance, to tempt fortune one last time. Is it 
 not written above, that, for our family, all good fortune 
 and all bad fortune shall always come from France 1 
 You know something of that, Monsieur, — you, who are 
 one of the Frenchmen whom my unfortunate father found 
 at the foot of his scaffold, on the day of his death, after 
 having found them at his right hand on the days of 
 battle." 
 
 Sire," said Athos, modestly, " I was not alone. I and 
 my companions did, under the circumstances, our duty 
 as gentlemen, and that was all. Your Majesty 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 that the word is hard 
 to pronounce, — I had, I say, the protection of my cousin 
 the Stadtholder of Holland ; but without the interven- 
 tion, or at least without the authorization of France, the 
 stadtholder would not take the initiative. I came, then, 
 to ask this authorization of the King of France, who has 
 refused me.'* 
 
 " The king has refused you. Sire ! 
 
 " Oh, not he ; all justice must be rendered to my 
 young brother Louis ; but M. de Mazarin — 
 Athos bit his lips. 
 
 "You perhaps think I had a right to expect this 
 refusal 1 " said the king, who had remarked the move- 
 ment. 
 
 *'That was, in truth, my thought, Sire," replied Athos, 
 respectfully ; " I know that Italian of old." 
 
 " Then I determined to push the matter to a conclu- 
 sion and know at once the last word of my destiny. I 
 told my brother Louis that, not to compromise either 
 
152 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 France or Holland^ I would tempt fortune myself in 
 person, as I had already done, with two hundred gentle- 
 men, if he would give them to me ; and a million, if he 
 would lend it me." 
 
 ^^Well, Sirer' 
 Well, Monsieur, I am suffering at this moment some- 
 thing strange ; and that is, the satisfaction of despair. 
 There is in certain souls — and I have just discovered 
 that mine is of the number — a real satisfaction in the 
 assurance that all is lost, and the time is come to yield." 
 
 "Oh, I hope," said Athos, *Hhat your Majesty has not 
 come to that extremity." 
 
 " To say so, Monsieur the Count, to endeavor to revive 
 hope in my heart, you must have ill understood what 
 I have just told you. I came to Blois to ask of my 
 brother Louis the alms of a million, wnth which I had the 
 hope of re-establishing my affairs ; and my brother Louis 
 has refused me. You see, then, plainly that all is lost." 
 
 " Will your Majesty permit me to express a contrary 
 opinion 1 " 
 
 " How is that. Count ? Do you take me for a soul 
 so commonplace as not to know how to confront my 
 position 1 " 
 
 " Sire, I have always seen that it was in desperate po- 
 sitions that suddenly 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 to despair of a i-oyal fortune, 
 however low it may be fallen. Unfortunately, my dear 
 count, your words are like those remedies they call * sov- 
 ereign,' and which, notwithstanding, being only able to 
 cure curable wounds or diseases, fail against death. 
 Thank you for your perseverance in consoling me, Count, 
 
REMEMBER ! " 
 
 153 
 
 thanks for your devoted remembrance^ but I know what 
 I. have to trust to, — nothing will save me now. And see, 
 my friend, I was so convinced that I was taking the route 
 of exile, with my old Parry ; I was returning to consume 
 my 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 for so often by 
 this body, which the soul consumes, and by this soul, 
 which aspires to heaven." 
 
 Your Majesty has a mother, a sister, and brothers ; 
 your Majesty is the head of the family ; you ought, there- 
 fore, to ask a long life of God, instead of imploring him 
 for a prompt death. Your Majesty is proscribed, a fugi- 
 tive, but you have right on your side ; you ought to as- 
 pire to combats, dangers, business, and not to the repose 
 of the heavens." 
 
 Count," said Charles II., with a smile of indescribable 
 sadness, " have you ever heard of a king who re-conquered 
 his kingdom with one servant of the age of Parry, and 
 with three hundred crowns which that servant carries in 
 his purse " 
 
 No, Sire ; but I have heard — and that more than 
 once — that a dethroned king has recovered his kingdom 
 with a firm will, perseverance, some friends, and a million 
 francs skilfully employed/' 
 
 " But you cannot have understood me. That million 
 I have asked of my brother Louis ; he has refused me." 
 
 " Sire," said Athos, will your Majesty grant me a 
 few minutes, and listen attentively to what remains for 
 me to say to you " 
 
 Charles IL looked earnestly at Athos. "Willingly, 
 Monsieur," said he. 
 
 " Then I will show your Majesty the way," resumed 
 the 4;ount, directing his steps towards the house. He 
 
154 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 then conducted the king to his cabinet, and begged him 
 to be seated. " Sire," said he, ^'your Majesty just now 
 told me that, in the present state of England, a million 
 would suffice for the recovery of your kingdom." 
 
 " To attempt it at least. Monsieur ; and to die as a king 
 if I should not succeed." 
 
 ^' Well, then. Sire, let your Majesty, according to the 
 promise you have made me, have the goodness to listen 
 to what I have to say." Charles made an affirmative 
 sign with his head. Athos walked straight up to the door, 
 the bolts of which he drew, after having looked to see if 
 anybody was near, and then returned. Sire," said he, 
 "your Majesty has kindly remembered that I lent assist- 
 ance to the very noble and very unfortunate Charles I., 
 when his executioners conducted him from St. James's to 
 Whitehall." 
 
 " Yes, certainly I do remember it, and always shall 
 remember it." 
 
 Sire, it is a dismal history for a son to listen to, 
 who no doubt has had it related to him many times ; and 
 yet I ought to repeat it to your Majesty without omitting 
 one detail." 
 
 " Speak on. Monsieur." 
 
 " When the king your father ascended the scaffold, or 
 rather when he passed from his chamber to the scaffold, 
 even with his window, everything was prepared for his 
 escape. The executioner was got out of the way ; a hole 
 was contrived under the floor of his apartment ; I myself 
 was beneath the funereal structure, which I heard all at 
 once creak under his feet." 
 
 Parry has related to me all these terrible details. 
 Monsieur." 
 
 Athos bowed, and resumed. " But here is something 
 he has not related to you, Sire, for what follows passed 
 
"REMEMBER ! " 
 
 155 
 
 between God, your father, and myself ; and never has the 
 revelation of it been made even to my dearest friends. 
 ' Go a little farther off,' said the august sufferer to the 
 masked executioner ; Mt is but for an instant, and I know 
 that I belong to you ; but remember not to strike till 
 I give the signal. I wish to offer up my prayers in 
 freedom.' 
 
 Pardon me," said Charles IL, turning very pale, but 
 you, Count, who know so many details of this melancholy 
 event, — details which, as you said just now, have never 
 been revealed to any one, — do you know the name of 
 that infernal executioner, of that base w^retch who con- 
 cealed his face that he might assassinate a king Avith 
 impunity " 
 
 Athos became slightly pale. ^' His name 1 said he ; 
 "yes, I know it, but cannot tell it." 
 
 And what has become of him, for nobody in England 
 knows his fate 1: " 
 
 He is dead." 
 
 " But he did not die in his bed ; he did not die a calm 
 and peaceful death ; he did not die the death of the good 1 " 
 He died a violent death, in a terrible night, rendered 
 so by the passions of man and a tempest from God. His 
 body, pierced by a poniard, sank to the depths of the 
 ocean. God pardon his murderer ! ^' 
 
 " Proceed then," said Charles II., seeing that the count 
 was unwilling to say more. 
 
 ^'The King of England, after having, as I have said, 
 spoken thus to the masked executioner, added : * Ob- 
 serve, you will not strike till I shall stretch out my arms, 
 saying, Remember ! ' " 
 
 "I was aware," said Charles, in an agitated voice, 
 " that that was the last word pronounced by my unfortu- 
 nate father. But with what aim ] for whom 1 " 
 
156 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " For the French gentleman placed beneath his scaf- 
 fold." 
 
 "For you, then, Monsieur." 
 YeS; Sire ; and every one of the words which he spoke 
 to me, through the planks of the scaffold covered with a 
 black cloth, still sounds in my ears. The king knelt down 
 on one knee : ' Comte de la Fere,' said he, ' are you there % ' 
 ' Yes, Sire,' replied I. Then the king stooped towards the 
 boards." 
 
 Charles 11. also, palpitating with interest, burning 
 with grief, stooped towards Athos, to catch, one by one, 
 every word that escaped from him. His head touched 
 that of the count. 
 
 ''Then," continued Athos, " the king stooped. ^ Comte 
 de la Fere,' said he, ^ it was not possible for me to be 
 saved by you ; it was not to be. Now, even though I 
 commit 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. By supporting a cause which I thought 
 sacred, I have lost the throne of my fathers, and diverted 
 the heritage of my children.' " 
 
 Charles II. concealed his face in his hands, and a bitter 
 tear glided between his white and slender fingers. 
 
 " ' I still have a million in gold,' continued the king. 
 ' I buried it in the vaults of the castle of Newcastle, when 
 I was leaving that city.'" 
 
 Charles raised his head with an expression of such 
 painful joy as would have drawn tears from any one 
 acquainted wath his misfortunes. " A million ! " mur- 
 mured he. " Oh, Count ! " 
 
 ' You alone know that this money exists ; employ it 
 -when you think it can be of the greatest service to my 
 eldest son. And now, Comte de la Fere, bid me adieu ! ' 
 ' Adieu, adieu, Sire ! ' cried 1." 
 
REMEMBER ! 
 
 157 
 
 Charles arose, and went and leaned his burning brow 
 against the window. 
 
 " It was then/' continued Athos, ^' 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 the movement of his shoulders, which 
 undulated convulsively ; he heard the sobs which burst 
 from his overcharged breast. He was silent himself, 
 suffocated by the flood of bitter remembrances he had 
 just poured upon that royal head. Charles II., with a 
 violent effort, left the window, repressed his tears, and 
 came and reseated himself by Athos. Sire," said the 
 latter, I thought till to-day that the time had not yet 
 arrived for the employment of that last resource ; but, 
 with my eyes fixed upon England, I believed it was 
 approaching. To-morrow'- I meant to go and inquire in 
 what part 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." 
 
 " Monsieur," said Charles, in a voice choked by emo- 
 tion, "you are, for me, what an angel sent from heaven 
 would be. — you are a preserver, sent to me from the 
 tomb of my father by himself ; but, believe me, in ten 
 years civil wars have passed over my country, striking 
 down men, tearing up the soil ; it is no more probable 
 that gold should remain in the entrails of the earth, than 
 love in the hearts of my subjects." 
 
 " Sire, the spot in which his Majesty buried the million 
 is well known to me ; and no one, I am sure, has been 
 able to discover it. Besides, is the castle of Newcastle 
 quite destroyed 1 Have they demolished it stone by 
 stone, and uprooted the soil to the last fibre 1 " 
 
 No, it is still standing ; but at this moment General 
 
158 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Monk occupies it, and 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 I speak of." 
 
 Yes, but can 1 go and deliver myself up to Monk 
 in order to recover this treasure 1 Ah, Count ! you see 
 plainly I must yield to destiny, since it strikes me to the 
 earth every time I rise. What can I do, with Parry as 
 my only servant, — with Parry, whom Monk has already 
 driven from his presence^ No, no, no. Count, we must 
 yield to this last blow." 
 
 But what your Majesty cannot do, and what Parry 
 can no more attempt, do you not believe that I could 
 succeed mV^ 
 
 You — you. Count — you would go % " 
 ^^If it pleases your Majesty," said Athos, bowing to 
 the king, ^* yes, I will go, Sire." 
 
 What ! you, who are so happy here, Count 
 
 I am never happy when I have a duty left to accom- 
 plish ; and it is an imperative duty which the king your 
 father left me to watch over your fortunes, and make 
 a royal use of his money. So, if your Majesty honors me 
 with a sign, I will go with you." 
 
 "Ah, Monsieur!" said the king, forgetting all royal 
 etiquette, and throwing his arms round the neck of Athos, 
 *'you prove to me that there is a God in heaven, and that 
 this God sometimes sends messengers to the unfortunate 
 who groan upon the earth." 
 
 Athos, exceedingly moved by this burst of feeling of the 
 young man, thanked him with profound respect, and ap- 
 proached the window. " Grimaud ! " said he, " my horses." 
 
 What, now — immediately!" said the king. "Ah, 
 Monsieur, you are indeed a wonderful man ! " 
 
REMEMBER ! " 
 
 159 
 
 " Sire/' said Athos, " T know of nothing more pressing 
 than your Majesty's service. Besides," added he, smiling, 
 it is a habit contracted long since, in the service of the 
 queen your aunt, and of the king your father. How is 
 it possible for me to lose it at the moment your Majesty's 
 service calls for it '? " 
 
 " What a man ! " murmured the king.- 
 
 Then, after a moment's reflection, — " But no, Count, 
 I cannot expose you to such privations. 1 have no means 
 of rewarding such services.'^ 
 
 " Bah ! " said Athos, laughing. Your Majesty is 
 joking ; have you not a million 1 Ah ! why am I not 
 possessed of the half of such a sum '? I would already 
 have raised a regiment. But, thank God ! I have still 
 a few rouleaux of gold and some family diamonds left. 
 Your Majesty will, I hope, deign to share with a devoted 
 servant." 
 
 " With a friend — yes, Count ; but on condition that, 
 in his turn, that friend will share with me hereafter." 
 
 Sire,'' said Athos, opening a casket, from which he 
 drew both gold and jewels, you see, Sire, w^e are too 
 rich. Fortunately, there are four of us, in the event of 
 meeting with thieves." 
 
 Joy made the blood rush to the pale cheeks of Charles 
 II., as he saw Athos's two horses, led by Grimaud, already 
 booted for the journey, advance towards the peristyle. 
 
 Blaisois, this letter for the Yicomte de Bragelonne. 
 To everybody else, I have gone to Paris. I confide the 
 house to you, Blaisois.'' Blaisois bowed, shook hands 
 with Grimaud, and shut the gate. 
 
160 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 IN WHICH ARAMIS IS SOUGHT FOR, AND ONLY BAZIN 
 FOUND. 
 
 Two hours had scarcely passed away after the departure 
 of the master of the house, who, in Blaisois' sight, had 
 taken the road to Paris, when a cavalier, mounted on 
 a good piebald horse, stopped before the gate, and with 
 a sonorous ^' Holloa ! called the horse-boys, who, with 
 the gardeners, had formed a circle round Blaisois, the 
 historian-in-ordhiary to the household of the chateau. 
 This " Holloa ! " doubtless well known to Master Blaisois, 
 made him turn his head and exclaim, M. d'Artagnan ! 
 Run quickly, you chaps, and open the gate." 
 
 A swarm of eight brisk lads flew to the gate, which was 
 opened as if it had been made of feathers ; and every one 
 loaded him with attentions, for they knew the welcome 
 this friend was accustomed to receive from their master. 
 The eye of the valet may always be depended upon for 
 discoveries of that kind. 
 
 Ah ! " said M. d'Artagnan, with an agreeable smile, 
 balancing himself upon his stirrup to jump to the ground, 
 where is my dear count " 
 
 Ah ! how unfortunate you are. Monsieur ! said Blai- 
 sois ; " and how unfortunate will Monsieur the Count, our 
 master, think himself when he hears of your coming ! 
 By bad luck, Monsieur the Count left home two hours 
 ago.^' 
 
AEAMIS IS SOUGHT FOR. 
 
 161 
 
 D'Artagnan did not trouble himself about such trifles. 
 Very good ! " said he. " You always speak the best 
 French in the world ; you shall give me a lesson in gram- 
 mar and correct language, while I await the return of 
 your master." 
 
 "That is impossible, Monsieur," said Blaisois ; *^you 
 would have to wait too long." 
 
 "Will he not come back to-day, then'?^' 
 
 " No, nor to-morrow, nor the day after to-morrow. 
 Monsieur the Count has gone on a journey." 
 
 " A journey ! " said D'Artagnan, surprised ; " that's a 
 fable, Master Blaisois." 
 
 " Monsieur, it is no more than the truth. Monsieur 
 has done me the honor to commit the house to my charge ; 
 and he added, with his voice so full of authority and 
 kindness, that is all one to me : * You will say I have 
 gone to Paris.' " 
 
 " Well ! " cried D'Artagnan, " since he has gone towards 
 Paris, that is all I wanted to know ! you should have told 
 me so at first, booby ! He is then two hours in advance 1 " 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur." 
 
 " I shall soon overtake him. Is he alone 1 " 
 
 " No, Monsieur." 
 
 " Who is with him, then 1 " 
 
 " 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 Blai- 
 sois, laying his hand gently on the reins of the horse. 
 
 "Yes, if you don't favor me with fine speeches, and 
 will make haste." 
 
 " Well, then. Monsieur, that w^ord ' Paris ' appears to 
 me to be only a lure.'^ 
 
 VOL. I. — 11 
 
162 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Oh^ oh ! said D'Artagnan, seriously; " a lure, eh 1 " 
 
 *'Yes, Mousieur ; and Monsieur the Count is not going 
 to PariS; I will swear.'' 
 
 " What makes you think so 1 " 
 This : M. Grimaud always knows where our master is 
 going; and he had promised me that the first time he 
 went to Paris, he would take a little money for me to 
 my wife." 
 
 " What ! have you a wife, then '? " 
 
 " I had one, — she was of this country ; but Monsieur 
 found her too garrulous, and I sent her to Paris : it is 
 sometimes inconvenient, but very agreeable at others." 
 
 I understand ; but go on. You do not believe the 
 count has gone to Paris'?" 
 
 "No, Monsieur; for then M. Grimaud would have 
 broken his word, he would have been perjured — and that 
 is impossible.'' 
 
 That is impossible," repeated D'Artagnan, quite 
 in a study, because he was quite convinced. " Well, 
 my brave Blaisois, many thanks to you." Blaisois bowed. 
 "Come, you know I am not curious — I have serious 
 business with your master. Could you not, by a little 
 end of a word, — you who speak so well, — give me to 
 understand — one syllable only — I will guess the 
 restr' 
 
 " Upon my word, Monsieur, I cannot. I am quite ig- 
 norant where Monsieur the Count has gone. As to listen- 
 ing at doors, that is contrary to my nature ; and besides, 
 it is forbidden here." 
 
 " My dear lad," said D^Artagnan, " this is a very bad 
 beginning for me. Never mind ; you know when Mon- 
 sieur the Count will return, at least 1 " 
 
 " As little. Monsieur, as the place of his destination." 
 
 " Come, Blaisois, come, search." 
 
AEAMIS IS SOUGHT FOE. 
 
 163 
 
 " Monsieur doubts my sincerity ] Ah, Monsieur, that 
 grieves me sensibly.'* 
 
 " The devil take his gilded tongue ! " grumbled D'Ar. 
 tagnan. A clown with a word would be worth a dozen 
 of him. Adieu ! " 
 
 "Monsieur, I have the honor to present you my re- 
 spects.'' 
 
 Cuistre I " said D'Artagnan to himself, " the fellow is 
 insupportable." He gave another look uj) to the house, 
 turned his horse's head, and set off like 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, I wonder," said he, breathing quickly, 
 *^ whether Athos was at home. No ; all those idlers, 
 standing in the court with their arms crossed, would 
 have been at work if the eye of the master was near. 
 Athos gone a journey 1 — that is incomprehensible. Bah ! 
 it is all devilish mysterious ! And then — no — he is not 
 the man I want. I want one of a cunning, patient mind. 
 My business is at Melun, in a certain presbytery I know. 
 Forty-five leagues, — four days and a half ! Well, it is fine 
 weather, and I am free. We will swallow the distance ! " 
 
 And he put his horse into a trot, directing his course 
 towards Paris. On the fourth day he alighted at Melun, 
 as he had intended. 
 
 D'Artagnan was never accustomed to ask anybody the 
 road, or for any common information. For details of that 
 kind, unless in very serious circumstances, he confided in 
 his perspicacity, never at fault, in his experience of thirty 
 years, and in a great habit of reading the physiognomies 
 of houses as well as those of men. At Melun, D'Ar- 
 tagnan directly found the presbytery, — a charming house, 
 with coatings of plaster over red brick, with vines climb- 
 ing along the gutters, and a cross, in sculptured stone, 
 
164 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 surmounting the ridge of the roof. From the ground- 
 floor of this house escaped a noise, or rather a confusion 
 of voices, like the chirping of young birds when the brood 
 is just hatched under the down. One of these voices was 
 spelUng the alphabet distinctly. A voice, thick but yet 
 pleasant, at the same time scolded the talkers and cor- 
 rected the faults of the reader. D'Artagnan recognized 
 that voice ; and as the window of the ground-floor was 
 open, he leaned down from his horse under the branches 
 and red fibres of the vine, and cried, " Bazin, my dear 
 Bazin ! good-day to you." 
 
 A short fat man, with a flat face, a cranium ornamented 
 with a crown of gray hairs, cut short, in imitation of a 
 tonsure, and covered with an old black velvet cap, arose 
 as soon as he heard D'Artagnan, — we ought not to say 
 arose, but hounded up. In fact, Bazin bounded up, draw- 
 ing with him his little low chair, which the children tried 
 to take away, with battles more fierce than those of the 
 Greeks endeavoring to recover the body of Patroclus 
 from the hands of the Trojans. Bazin did more than 
 bound ; 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 am still mistaken — Monsieur the 
 Vicar-General % " 
 
 Ah, Monsieur,'' said Bazin, with dignity, " Mon- 
 seigneur is at his diocese." 
 
 What did you say?'' said D'Artagnan. 
 
 Bazin repeated the sentence. 
 
 " Ah, ah 1 but has Aramis a diocese % " 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur. Why not % " 
 
 *'Is he a bishop, then?" 
 Why, where can you come from/' said Bazin, rather 
 irreverently, " that you don't know that % " 
 
ARAMIS IS SOUGHT FOR. 
 
 165 
 
 ^^My dear Baziu, we pagans, we men of the sword, 
 know very well when a man is made a colonel, or com- 
 mander, or marshal of France ; but if he be made bishop, 
 archbishop, or pope, — devil take me, if the news reaches 
 us before the three quarters of the earth have had the 
 advantage of it ! " 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! " said Bazin, opening his eyes ; do 
 not spoil these poor children, in whom I am endeavor- 
 ing to inculcate good principles." In fact, the children 
 had surrounded D'Artagnan, whose horse, long sword, 
 spurs, and martial air they very much admired. But, 
 above all, they admired his strong voice ; so that, when 
 he uttered his oath, the whole school cried out, Devil 
 take me ! " with fearful bursts of laughter, shouts, and 
 stamping, which delighted the musketeer and bewildered 
 the old pedagogue. 
 
 ^' There ! said he, hold your tongues, you brats ! 
 You are 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 little wretches ! " 
 and the wwthy Bazin distributed right and left blows 
 which redoubled the cries of his scholars, while changing 
 their significance. ^'At least," said he, "you cannot 
 debauch any one here.'' 
 
 "Do you think so'?" said D'Artagnan, with a smile 
 which made a shudder creep over the shoulders of 
 Bazin. 
 
 "He is capable of it," murmured he, 
 " Where is your master's diocese 1 " 
 
 Monseigneur Eene is bishop of Vannes." 
 
 Who caused him to be nominated ] " 
 "Why, Monsieur the superintendent, our neighbor." 
 "What! M. Fouquetr' 
 " To be sure." 
 
166 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 "Is Aramis on good terms with him, then'? 
 
 Monseigneiir preached every Sunday at the house of 
 Monsieur the superintendent at Yaux ; then they hunted 
 together." 
 
 Ah ! " 
 
 "And Monseigneur composed his homihes — no, I 
 mean his sermons — with Monsieur the superintendent." 
 
 " Bah ! he preached in verse, then, this worthy 
 bishop 1 " 
 
 " Monsieur, for the love of heaven, do not jest with 
 sacred things." 
 
 " There, Bazin, there ! So, then, Aramis is at Yannes ] " 
 "At Yannes, in Bretagne." 
 
 " You are a deceitful old hunks, Bazin ; that is not 
 true." 
 
 " See, Monsieur, if you please ; the apartments of the 
 presbytery are empty. 
 
 "He is right there," said D'Artagnan, looking atten- 
 tively at the house, the aspect of which announced that 
 it was unoccupied. 
 
 " But Monseigneur must have written you an -account 
 of his promotion." 
 
 "From when does it date^" 
 
 "A month back." 
 
 " Oh ! then there is no time lost. Aramis cannot yet 
 have wanted me. But how is it, Bazin, you do not follow 
 your master'? " 
 
 ^'Monsieur, I cannot; I have occupations." 
 
 "Your alphabet]" 
 
 "And my penitents." 
 
 "What! you confess'? You are a priest ^" 
 " The same as one. I have such a call." 
 
 But the orders 1 " 
 " Oh ! " said Bazin, with an air, " now that Monseigneur 
 
ARAMIS IS SOUGHT FOR. 
 
 167 
 
 is a bishop, I shall soon have my orders, or at least my 
 dispensations ; and he rubbed his hands. 
 
 '^Decidedly," said D'Artagnan to himself, ^Hhere will 
 be no uprooting these people. Get me some supper, 
 Eazin.'' 
 
 With pleasure, Monsieur." 
 
 ^' A fowl, a hoiiillon, and a bottle of wine." 
 
 "This is Saturday, Monsieur, — it is a fast-day." 
 
 " I have a dispensation," said D'Artagnan. 
 
 Bazin looked at him suspiciously. 
 
 " Ah, ah, master hypocrite ! " said the musketeer, for 
 whom do you take me ] If you, who are the valet, hope 
 for dispensation for committing a crime, shall not I, the 
 friend of your bishop, have dispensation for eating meat 
 at the call of my stomach^ Make yourself agreeable 
 with me, Bazin, or, by heaven ! I will complain to the 
 king, and you shall never confess. Now, you know that 
 the nomination of bishops rests with the king, — I have 
 the king, I am the stronger." 
 
 Bazin smiled hypocritically. Ah, but we — we have 
 Monsieur the superintendent," «aid 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 the cook. In the mean time D'Artagnan sur- 
 veyed the presbytery. 
 
 " Pugh ! " said he, disdainfully, " Monseigneur lodged 
 his grandeur but very meanly here." 
 
 "We have the Chateau de Yaux," said Bazin. 
 
 " Which is perhaps equal to the Louvre 1 " said 
 D'Artagnan, jeeringly. 
 
168 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 "Which is better," replied Bazin, with the greatest 
 coolness imaginable. 
 
 Ah, ah ! " said D'Artagnan. 
 
 He would perhaps have prolonged the discussion, and 
 maintained the superiority of the Louvre, but the lieu- 
 tenant perceived that his horse remained fastened to the 
 bars of a gate. 
 
 "The devil !" said he. "Get my horse looked after ; 
 your master the bishop has none like him in his stables." 
 
 Bazin cast a sidelong glance at the horse, and replied, 
 " Monsieur the superintendent gave him four from his 
 own stables ; and each of the four is worth four of 
 yours." 
 
 The blood mounted to the face of D'Artagnan. His 
 hand itched, and he selected on the head of Bazin the 
 place to plant his fist. But that flash passed away ; re- 
 flection came, and D'Artagnan contented himself with 
 saying : " The devil ! the devil ! I have done well to 
 quit the service of the king. Tell me, worthy Master 
 Bazin," added he, "how many musketeers has Monsieur 
 the superintendent '? " 
 
 " He could have all there are in the kingdom with his 
 money," replied Bazin, closing his book, and dismissing 
 the boys with noisy strokes of his ferule. 
 
 " The devil ! the devil ! " repeated D'Artagnan, once 
 more. 
 
 Supper was now announced ; and he followed the cook, 
 who introduced him into the refectory, where it awaited 
 him. D'Artagnan placed himself at table, and com- 
 menced a hearty attack upon his fowl. 
 
 " It appears to me," said D'Artagnan, biting with all his 
 might at the tough fowl which they had served up to him, 
 and which they had evidently forgotten to fatten, — "it 
 appears to me that I have done wrong in not going to 
 
ARAMIS IS SOUGHT FOR. 
 
 169 
 
 take service in the suite of that master yonder. A pow- 
 erful noble this intendant, seemingly ! In good truth, 
 we poor fellows know nothing at the court ; and the rays 
 of the sun prevent our seeing the large stars, which are 
 suns also, at a little greater distance from our earth, — 
 that is all." 
 
 As D'Artagnan delighted, both from pleasure and 
 system, in making people talk about things which in- 
 terested him, he fenced in his best style with Master 
 Bazin, but it was pure loss of time ; beyond the fatiguing 
 and hyperbolical praises of Monsieur the superintendent 
 of the finances, Bazni, who, on his side, was on his 
 guard, afforded nothing but platitudes to the curiosity 
 of D'Artagnan ; so that our musketeer, in a tolerably 
 bad humoi', desired to go to bed as soon as he had supped. 
 D'Artagnan was introduced by Bazin into a mean cham- 
 ber, in which there was as poor a bed; but D'Artagnan 
 was not fastidious in that respect. He had been told 
 that Aramis had taken away the keys of his own private 
 apartment ; and as he knew Aramis was a very particular 
 man, and had generally many things to conceal in his 
 apartment, that had not at all astonished him. He had, 
 therefore, — although it appeared comparatively even 
 harder, — attacked the bed as bravely as he had done 
 the fowl ; and as he had as good an inclination to sleep 
 as he had had to eat, he took scarcely longer time to fall 
 asleep than he had employed in picking the last bones of 
 the bird. 
 
 Since he was no longer in the service of any one, 
 D'Artagnan had promised himself to indulge in sleeping 
 as soundly as he had formerly slept lightly ; but with 
 whatever good faith D'Artagnan had made himself this 
 promise, and whatever desire he might have to keep it 
 religiously, he was awakened in the middle of the night 
 
170 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 by a loud noise of carriages, and servants on horseback. 
 A sudden illumination flashed over the walls of his 
 chamber ; he jumped out of bed and ran to the window 
 in his shirt. 
 
 Can the king be coming this wsij 1 " thought he, 
 rubbing his eyes ; " in truth, such a suite can only be 
 attached to royalty." 
 
 " Vive Monsieur le Surintendant ! " cried, or rather 
 vociferated, from a window on the ground-floor, a voice 
 which he recognized as Bazin's, who, while so crying, 
 waved a handkerchief with one hand, and held a large 
 candle in the other. D'Artagnan then saw something 
 like a brilliant human form leaning out at the window 
 of the principal carriage ; at the same time loud bursts 
 of laughter, provoked no doubt by the strange figure of 
 Eazin, and which issued from the same carriage, left, as 
 it were, a train of joy upon the passage of the rapid 
 cortec/e. 
 
 " I might easily see it was not the king," said D'Ar- 
 tagnan ; " people don't laugh so heartily when the king 
 passes. Holloa, Bazin ! " cried he to his neighbor, who was 
 still leaning three parts out of the window, to follow the 
 carriage with his eyes as long as he could. " What is all 
 that about 1 " 
 
 ^' It is M. Fouquet," replied Bazin, in a patronizing 
 tone. 
 
 And all those people 1 " 
 " That is the court of M. Fouquet." 
 
 Oh, oh 1 said D'Artagnan ; what would M. de 
 Mazarin say to that if he heard it ? " and he lay down 
 again, asking himself how Aramis always contrived to 
 be protected by the most powerful person in the king- 
 dom. " Is it that he has more luck than I, or that I am 
 a greater fool than he 1 Bah ! " That was the concluding 
 
ARAMIS IS SOUGHT FOR. 
 
 171 
 
 word by the aid of which D'Artagnan, become wise, now 
 terminated every thought and every period of his style. 
 Formerly he said, Mordioux ! which was a prick of the 
 spur; but now he had become older, he murmured that 
 philosophical Bah I which served as a bridle to all the 
 passions. 
 
} 
 
 172 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVIII. 
 
 IN WHICH d'aRTAGNAN SEEKS FOR PORTHOS, AND ONLY 
 FINDS MOUSQUETON. 
 
 When D'Artagnan had perfectly convinced himself that 
 the absence of the Vicaire-General d'Herblay was real, and 
 that his friend was not to be found at Melun or in its 
 environs, he left Bazin without regret, gave an ill-natured 
 glance at the magnificent Chateau de Vaux, which was 
 beginning to shine with that splendor which brought on 
 its ruin, and, compressing his lips like a man full of mis- 
 trust and suspicion, he put spurs to his piebald horse, 
 saying, Well, well ! I have still Pierrefonds left, 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 of Pierrefonds. D'Artagnan 
 came by the way of ^^anteuil-le-Hardouin and Crepy. 
 At a distance he perceived the Castle of Louis d'Orleans, 
 which, having become part of the crown domain, was 
 kept by an old concierge. This was one of those mar- 
 vellous manors of the middle ages, with walls twenty 
 feet in thickness, and towers a hundred in height. D'Ar- 
 tagnan rode slowly past its walls, measured its towers 
 with his eyes, and descended into the valley. From a 
 distance he looked down upon the chateau of Porthos, 
 situated on the shores of a large pond, and contiguous 
 to a magnificent forest. It was the same place we have 
 
D'ARTAGNAN SEEKS FOR PORTHOS. 
 
 173 
 
 already had the honor of describing to our readers ; we 
 shall therefore satisfy ourselves with naming it. The 
 first thing D'Artagnan perceived after the fine trees, 
 the sun of May gilding the sides of the green hills, long 
 rows of feather-topped w^ood which stretched out towards 
 Compiegne, was a large rolling box, pushed forward by 
 two servants and dragged by two others. In this box 
 there was an enormous green-and-gold thing, w^hich moved 
 along the smiling glades of the park, thus dragged and 
 pushed. This thing, at a distance, was not to be made 
 out, and signified absolutely nothing; nearer, it was a 
 tun muffled in gold-bound green cloth ; nearer still, it 
 was a man, or rather an animal, the lower part of which, 
 extending itself in the interior of the box, entirely filled 
 it ; nearer still, the man was Mousqueton — Mousqueton, 
 with gray hair and a face as red as Punchinello's. 
 
 " Pardieu ! " cried D'Artagnan ; " why, that 's my dear 
 M. Mousqueton ! 
 
 "Ah!" cried the fiit man, '^ah! what happiness! 
 what joy ! There 's M. d'ArtagnaUc Stop, you rascals ! " 
 These last w^ords were addressed to the lackeys who 
 pushed and dragged him. The box stopped ; and the 
 four lackeys, with a precision quite military, took off 
 their laced hats and ranged themselves behind it. 
 
 Oh, M. d'Artagnan ! " said Mousqueton ; " why can I 
 not embrace your knees'? But I am 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, mak- 
 ing the tour of the box ; " are you out of your mind, my 
 dear friend % Thank God ! you are as hearty as a three- 
 hundred-year-old oak." 
 
174 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Ah ! but my legs, Monsieur, — my legs ! " groaned the 
 faithful servant. 
 
 What 's the matter with your legs 1 " 
 
 " Oh, they will no longer bear me ! 
 
 " Ah, the ingrates ! And yet you feed them well, 
 Mousqueton, apparently." 
 
 " Alas, yes ! They have nothing to reproach me with 
 in that respect," said Mousqueton, with a sigh; ^^I have 
 always done what I could for my poor body ; I am not 
 selfish ; " and Mousqueton sighed afresh. 
 
 " I wonder whether Mousqueton wants to be a baron 
 too, as he sighs after that fashion thought D'Artagnan. 
 
 " Mon Dieu, monsieur ! " said Mousqueton, as if rousing 
 himself from a painful revery ; ^^how happy Monseigneur 
 will be that you have thought of him ! " 
 
 Kind Porthos ! cried D'Artagnan, ''I am anxious to 
 embrace him." 
 
 Oh ! " said Mousqueton, much affected. I will cer- 
 tainly write to hiui." 
 
 " How ! " cried D'Artagnan, " you will write to him ] " 
 This very day ; at once." 
 
 " Is he not here, then 1 " 
 
 " No, Monsieur." 
 
 " But is he near at hand % Is he far off? " 
 
 ''Oh, can I tell. Monsieur, can I telH " 
 
 " Mordioux ! " cried the musketeer, stamping with his 
 foot. " I am the sport of misfortune. 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 r' 
 Doubtless, — the worthy M. d'Herblay." 
 
D'ARTAGNAN SEEKS FOR PORTHOS. 
 
 175 
 
 What ! has Aramis pressed Porthos ? 
 "This is how the thing happened, M. d'Artagnan. 
 M. d'Herblay wrote to Monseignenr — " 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 "A letter, Monsieur, — such a pressing letter that it 
 threw us all into a terrible excitement." 
 
 " Tell me all about it, my dear friend," said D'Artagnan ; 
 
 but remove these people a little farther off first." 
 
 Mousqueton shouted, ^' Fall back, you sirs ! " with such 
 powerful lungs that the breath, without the words, would 
 have been sufficient to disperse the four lackeys. D'Ar- 
 tagnan seated himself on the shaft of the box and opened 
 his ears. Monsieur," said Mousqueton, " Monseigneur, 
 then, received a letter from M. le Vicaire-General d'Herblay, 
 eight or nine days ago ; it was the day of the pleasures — ■ 
 sylvan ; yes, it was therefore Wednesday." 
 
 " What does that mean % " said D'Artagnan, — " the 
 day of the sylvan pleasures % " 
 
 ''Yes, Monsieur; we have so many pleasures to take 
 in this delightful country, that we were encumbered by 
 them, — so much so that we have been forced to reduce 
 them to a system." 
 
 How easily do I recognize Porthos's love of order in 
 that ! Now, that idea would never have occurred to me ; 
 but then I am not encumbered w^ith pleasures." 
 
 ''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 dear Mousqueton, that it is really a pleasure 
 to hear you." 
 
 ''It is true," said Mousqueton, with a sigh of satisfac- 
 tion, which emanated evidently from the justice which 
 
176 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 had been rendered him, — " it is true I have made great 
 progress in the company of Monseigneur." 
 
 " I am waiting for the distribution of the pleasures, 
 Mousqueton, and with impatience. I want to know if I 
 have arrived on a lucky day." 
 
 Oh, Monsieur d'Artagnan," said Mousqueton in a 
 melancholy tone, since Monseigneur's departure all the 
 pleasures are gone too." 
 
 Well, my dear Mousqueton, refresh your memory." 
 
 With what day shall I begin 
 " Eh, pardieu ! begin with Sunday, that is the Lord's 
 day." 
 
 Sunday, Monsieur " 
 Yes.'^ 
 
 ^'Sunday pleasures are religious: Monseigneur goes to 
 Mass, makes the bread-offering, and has discourses and 
 instructions made to him by his almoner-in-ordinary. 
 That is not very amusing ; but we expect a Carmelite from 
 Paris who wull do the duty of our almonry, and who, we 
 are assured, speaks very well, — which will keep us awake, 
 whereas our present almoner always sends us to sleep. 
 These are Sunday, religious pleasures. On Monday 
 worldly pleasures." 
 
 Ah, ah ! " said D'Artagnan, " what do you mean by 
 that, Mousqueton 1 Let us have a glimpse at your 
 worldly pleasures." 
 
 Monsieur, on Monday we go into the world ; w^e pay 
 and receive visits, we play on the lute, we dance, we make 
 verses, and burn a little incense in honor of the ladies." 
 
 Peste! that is the height of gallantry," said the mus- 
 keteer, who was obliged to call to his aid all the strength 
 of his mastoid muscles to suppress a great inclination 
 to laugh. 
 
 Tuesday, 2:)leasures of learning." 
 
D'ARTAGNAN SEEKS FOR PORTHOS. 177 
 
 ^^Good!" cried D'Artagnan. What are they? De- 
 tail them, my dear Mousqueton/' 
 
 Monseigneur has bought a sphere or globe, which I 
 will show yoii ; it fills all the perimeter of the great 
 tower, except a gallery which he has had built over the 
 sphere ; there are little strings and brass wires to which 
 the sun and moon are hooked. It all turns ; and that is 
 very beautiful. Monseigneur points out to me seas and 
 distant countries. We don't intend to visit them, but it 
 is very interesting." 
 
 Interesting ! yes, that's the word," repeated D'Ar- 
 tagnan. And W^ednesday 1 " 
 
 Sylvan pleasures, as I have had the honor to tell you, 
 Monsieur the Chevalier. W"e look over Monseio'neur's 
 
 o 
 
 sheep and goats ; we make the shepherds dance to pipes 
 and reeds, as is written in a book Monseigneur has in his 
 library, which is called ' Bergeries.' The author died 
 about a month ago." 
 
 " M. Eacan, perhaps," said D'Artagnan. 
 Yes, that was his name, — M. Racan. But that is 
 not all ; we angle in the little canal, after which we dine, 
 crowned with flowers. That is Wednesday.'' 
 
 " Peste ! " said D'Artagnan ; " you don't divide your 
 pleasures badly. And Thursday 1 — what can be left for 
 poor Thursday 1 " 
 
 ^' It is not very unfortunate, Monsieur," said Mousque- 
 ton, smiling. Thursday, Olympic pleasures. Ah, Mon- 
 sieur, that is superb ! We get together all Monseigneur's 
 young vassals, and we make them throw the disc, 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 he does deal a blow with his fist^ 
 oh, that proves a misfortune ! " 
 
 " How so ? " 
 
 VOL. I.~ 12 
 
178 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur, we were obliged to renounce the ces- 
 tus. He cracked heads ; he broke jaws, beat in ribs. 
 It was charming sport ; but nobody was wilHng to play 
 with him." 
 
 " Then his wrist ■ — " 
 
 " Oh, Monsieur, more firm than ever. Monseigneur 
 gets a little weaker in his legs, — he confesses that 
 himself ; but his strength has all gone to his arms, so 
 that — " 
 
 *^So that he can knock down bullocks, as of old." 
 
 " Monsieur, better than that, — he beats in walls. 
 Lately, after having supped with one of our farmers, — 
 you know how popular and kind Monseigneur is, — after 
 supper, as a joke, he struck the wall a blow. The wall 
 crumbled away beneath his hand, the roof fell, and three 
 men and an old woman were stifled." 
 
 Good God, Mousqueton ! And your master ^ " 
 
 " Oh, Monseigneur, his head had a little skin rubbed 
 off. We bathed the wounds w4th the water which the 
 monks give us. Bat there was nothing the 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 Mon- 
 seigneur's revenue was spent in that way." 
 
 " Then pass on to Friday," said D'Artagnan. 
 
 ^'Friday, noble and warlike pleasures. We hunt, we 
 fence, we dress Mcons and break horses. Then, Saturday 
 is the day for intellectual pleasures : we furnish our 
 minds ; we look at Monseigneur's pictures and statues ; 
 we write, even, and trace plans ; and then we fire 
 Monseigneur's cannon." 
 
D'ARTAGNAN SEEKS FOR PORTHOS. 
 
 179 
 
 " You draw plans, and fire cannon ? 
 " Yes, Monsieur." 
 
 " Why, my friend," said D'Artagnan, ^^M. du Yallon, 
 in truth, possesses the most subtle and amiable mind 
 that I know. But there is one kind of pleasure 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 the circulation of the bottle." 
 
 " Ah, Monsieur, we don't reckon those pleasures, — we 
 practise them every day." 
 
 My brave Mousqueton," resumed D'Artagnan, " par- 
 don me, but I was so absorbed in your charming recital 
 that I have forgotten the principal object of our con- 
 versation, which was to learn what M. le Yicaire-General 
 d'Herblay could have to write to your master about 1 " 
 
 " That is true. Monsieur," said Mousqueton ; " the 
 pleasures have misled us. Well, Monsieur, this is the 
 whole affair." 
 
 "I am all attention, Mousqueton." 
 On Wednesday — " 
 
 "The day of the sylvan pleasures'?" 
 
 " Yes — a letter arrived ; he received it from my hands. 
 I had recognized the writing." 
 
 " Well 1 " 
 
 " Monseignear 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 
 
180 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Porthos, set out. if you would wish to arrive before the 
 Equinox. I expect you.' " 
 
 Mordioiix ! said D'Artagnau, thoughtfully, ^^that is 
 pressing, apparently." 
 
 I think so ; therefore," continued Mousqueton, Mon- 
 seigneur set out the very same day with his secretary, in 
 order to endeavor to arrive in time." 
 " And did he arrive in time'?" 
 
 " I hope so ; Monseigneur, who is hasty, as you know, 
 Monsieur, repeated unceasingly, ^ Tonne Dieu ! What 
 can this mean % The Equinox % ^N'ever mind, the fellow 
 must be well mounted if he arrives before I do.'" 
 
 "And you think Porthos will have arrived first, do 
 you % " asked D'Artagnan. 
 
 " I am sure of it- This Equinox, however rich he may 
 be, has certainly no horses so good as Monseigneur's." 
 
 D'Artagnan repressed his inclination to laugh, because 
 the brevity of Aramis's letter gave rise to reflection. He 
 followed Mousqueton, or rather Mousqueton's chariot, to 
 the castle. He sat down to a sumptuous table, of which 
 they did him the honors as to a king. But he could draw 
 nothing from Mousqueton, — the faithful servant shed 
 tears at will, but that was all. 
 
 D'Artagnan, after a night passed in an excellent bed, 
 reflected much upon the meaning of Aramis's letter ; 
 puzzled liimself as to the relation of the Equinox with the 
 affairs of Porthos ; and being unable to make anything 
 out, unless it concerned some amour of the bishop, for 
 which it w^as necessary that the days and nights should 
 be equal, D'Artagnan left Pierrefonds as he had left 
 Melun, as he had left the chateau of the Comte de 
 la Fere. It was not, however, without melancholy, 
 which might by good right pass for one of the dullest 
 of D'Artagnan's humors. His head cast down, his eyes 
 
D'ARTAGNAN SEEKS FOR PORTHOS. 
 
 181 
 
 fixed, he suffered his legs to hang on each side of his 
 horse, and said to himself, in that vague sort of reverie 
 which reaches sometimes the sublimest eloquence, — 
 
 " 1^0 more friends ! no more future ! no more anything ! 
 My energies are broken like the bonds of our ancient 
 friendship. Oh, old age arrives, cold and inexorable ; it 
 envelops in its funereal crape all that was brilliant, all 
 that was of sweet odor in my youth ; then it throws that 
 pleasant burden on its shoulders and carries it away with 
 the rest into the fathomless gulf of death." 
 
 A shudder crept through the heart of the Gascon, so 
 brave and so strong against all the misfortunes of life ; 
 and for some moments the clouds appeared black to him, 
 the earth slippery and full of pits as that of cemeteries. 
 
 " Whither am I going ] said he to himself " What 
 am I going to do 1 Alone, quite alone, — without family, 
 without friends ! Bah ! " cried he, all at once. And he 
 clapped spurs to his horse, who, having found nothing 
 melancholy in the heavy oats of Pierrefonds, profited by 
 this permission to show his gayety in a gallop which 
 covered two leagues. " To Paris ! " said DArtngnan to 
 himself And on the morrow he alighted in Paris. He 
 had devoted ten days to this journey. 
 
182 
 
 THE yiCOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 WHAT d'aRTAGNAN DID IN PARIS. 
 
 The lieutenant dismounted before a shop in the Rue 
 des Lombards, at the sign 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 joy 
 on perceiving the piebald horse. " Monsieur the Chev- 
 alier ! " said he, " ah, is that you ? " 
 
 Good-day, Planchet," replied DArtagnan, stooping 
 to enter the shop. 
 
 ''Quick, somebody," cried Planchet, "to look after 
 M. dArtagnan's horse, — somebody to get ready his 
 chamber, — somebody to prepare his supper." 
 
 "Thanks, Planchet. Good-day, my children/' said 
 DArtagnan to the eager boys. 
 
 Allow me to send off this coffee, this molasses, and 
 these raisins," said Planchet ; " they are for the office of 
 Monsieur the superintendent." 
 
 Send them off, send them off ! " 
 
 That is only the affair of a moment ; then we will sup." 
 Order so that we may sup alone," said DArtagnan; 
 I want to speak to you." 
 
 Planchet looked at his old master in a significant 
 manner. 
 
 "Oh, be at ease! it is nothing unpleasant," said 
 DArtagnan. 
 
 " So much the better, so much the better ! " and 
 Planchet breathed freely again, while DArtagnan seated 
 
D'ARTAGNAN IN PARIS. 
 
 183 
 
 himself quietly down in the shop, upon a bale of corks, 
 and observed his surroundings. The shop was well 
 stocked; there was a mingled perfume of ginger, cinna- 
 mon, and ground pepper, which made D'Artagnan sneeze. 
 The shop-boys, proud of being in company with so re- 
 nowned a soldier, a lieutenant of Musketeers, who ap- 
 proached the person of the king, began to work with an 
 enthusiasm which was something like delirium, and to 
 serve the customers with a disdainful precipitation that 
 was remarked by several. 
 
 Planchet put away his money, and made up his ac- 
 counts, amidst civilities addressed to his old master. 
 Planchet exercised towards his customers the short speech 
 and the haughty familiarity of the rich sliopkeeper who 
 serves everybody and waits for nobody. D'Artagnan ob- 
 served this difference with a pleasure which presently we 
 will analyze. He saw night come on by degrees ; and at 
 length Planchet conducted him to a chamber on the first 
 story, where, amidst bales and chests, a table very nicely 
 set out awaited the two guests. 
 
 D'Artagnan took advantage of a moment's pause to 
 examine the countenance of Planchet, whom he had not 
 seen for a year past. The shrewd Planchet had acquired 
 a slight protuberance in front, but his countenance was 
 not puffed. His keen eyes still played easily in their 
 deep-sunk orbits ; and fat, which levels all the character- 
 istic saliences of the human face, had not yet touched 
 either his high cheek-bones, the index of cunning and 
 cupidity, or his pointed chin, the index of acuteness and 
 perseverance. Planchet reigned with as much majesty 
 in his dining-room as in his shop. He set before his mas- 
 ter a frugal, but a perfectly Parisian repast, — roast meat 
 cooked at the baker's, with vegetables, salad, and a des- 
 sert borrowed from the shop itself. D'Artagnan was 
 
184 
 
 THE VICGMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 pleased that the grocer had drawn from behind the fag- 
 ots a bottle of that Anjou wine which, during all his life, 
 had been D'Artagnaii's chosen wine. 
 
 "Formerly, Monsieur," said Planchet, with a smile full 
 of comradeship, '^it was 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 to come, I hope ; for at present I am 
 free." 
 
 " Free 1 You have leave of absence. Monsieur 1 " 
 "Unlimited." 
 
 " You are leaving the service 1 " said Planchet, stupefied. 
 "Yes, I am resting." 
 
 "And the king?" cried Planchet, who could not sup- 
 pose it possible that the king could do without the services 
 of such a man as D'Artagnan. 
 
 " The king v/ill try his fortune elsewhere. But we 
 have supped well, you are disposed to enjoy yourself ; 
 you provoke me to repose confidence in you. Open your 
 ears, then." 
 
 " They are open;" and Planchet, with a laugh more 
 frank than cunning, opened a bottle of white wine. 
 
 "Leave me my reason, though." 
 
 " 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 will talk of 
 finance. How fares your money-box 1 " 
 
 " Wonderfully well, Monsieur. The twenty thousand 
 livres I had of you are still employed in my trade, in 
 which they bring me nine per cent. I give you seven, so 
 I gain two by you." 
 
 " And you are still satisfied 1 " 
 Delighted. Have you brought me any more 1 " 
 
 ^' Better than that. But do you want any 1 " 
 
D'ARTAGNAN in PARIS. 
 
 185 
 
 Oh ! not at all. Every one is willing to trust me 
 now. I am extending my business.^' 
 "That was your project." 
 
 *'I play the banker a little. I buy goods of my neces- 
 sitous brethren ; I lend money to those who are not ready 
 for their payments." 
 " Without usury 1 " 
 Oh ! Monsieur, in the course of the last week I have 
 had two meetings on the boulevards, on account of the 
 word you have just pronounced." 
 Whatl" 
 
 " You shall see : it concerned a loan. The borrower 
 gives me in pledge some raw sugars, upon condition tViat 
 I should sell if repayment were not made at a fixed period. 
 I lend a thousand livres. He does not pay me, and I 
 sell the sugars for thirteen hundred livres. He learns 
 this and claims a hundred crowns. Ma foi ! I refused, 
 pretending that I could not sell them for more than nine 
 hundred livres. He accused me of usury. I begged him 
 to repeat that word to me behind the boulevards. He 
 was an old guard, and he came ; and I passed your sword 
 through his left thigh." 
 
 Tiidieu I what a pretty sort of banker you make !" 
 said D'x\rtagnan. 
 
 For above thirteen per cent I fight," replied Plan- 
 chet ; " that is my character." 
 
 "Take only twelve," said D'Artagnan, "and call the 
 rest premium and brokerage." 
 
 " You are right. Monsieur ; but to your business." 
 
 " Ah ! Planchet, it is very long and very hard to speak." 
 
 " Speak it, nevertheless." D'Artagnan twisted his mus- 
 tache like a man embarrassed with the confidence he is 
 about to repose, and mistrustful of his confidant. 
 
 " Is it an investment % " asked Planchet. 
 
186 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Why, yes." 
 
 At good profit 1 " 
 "A capital profit, — four hundred per cent, Planchet." 
 Planchet gave such a blow with his fist upon the table 
 that the bottles bounded as if they had been frightened. 
 " Good heavens ! is that possible 1 " 
 
 I think it will be more/' replied D'Artagnan, coolly ; 
 but I like to lay it at the lowest." 
 
 The devil ! " said Planchet, drawing nearer. Why, 
 Monsieur, that is magnificent ! Can one place much 
 money in it 1 " 
 
 ^* Twenty thousand livres each, Planchet." 
 Why, that is all you have, Monsieur. For how long a 
 timer' 
 
 " 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 w^ill be necessary to fight not a 
 little," said D'Artagnan, with the same tranquillity ; "but 
 this time there are two of us, Planchet, and I will 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 leave your business and your family." 
 " The affair is not in Paris, then." 
 " No." 
 
 "Ah! abroad r' 
 "In England." 
 
 "A speculative country, that is true," said Planchet, — 
 " a country I am well acquainted with. What sort of an 
 affair, Monsieur, — without too much curiosity 1 
 
 " Planchet, it is a restoration." 
 
D'ARTJ^GNAN IN PARIS. 
 
 187 
 
 " Of monuments " 
 
 " Yes, of monuments ; we will restore Whitehall." 
 " That is important. And in a month, you think 1 
 " I will undertake it." 
 That concerns you^ Monsieur ; and when once you are 
 engaged — " 
 
 " Yes, that concerns me. I know w^hat I am about ; 
 nevertheless, T will freely consult wuth you." 
 
 " You do me great honor; but I know very little about 
 architecture." 
 
 " Planchet, you are wrong ; you are an excellent archi- 
 tect, — quite as good as I am, for the case in question." 
 "Thanks — " 
 
 " I have been, I confess, tempted to name the thing to 
 those gentlemen we know of, 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 enterprise will be disputed 1 " 
 
 "Oh yes, Planchet, yes." 
 
 "I burn to know the details, Monsieur." 
 
 " They are these, Planchet. Close all the doors 
 firmly." 
 
 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 the carts will deafen all who might hear us." 
 
 Planchet opened the window as desired, and the puff of 
 tumult which filled the chamber with cries, wheels, bark- 
 ings, and steps deafened D'x\rtagnan himself, as he had 
 wished. He then swallowed a glass of white wine, and 
 began in these terms : " Planchet, I have an idea." 
 
 " Ah ! Monsieur, I recognize you so well in that ! " re- 
 plied Planchet, panting with emotion. 
 
188 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTEK XX. 
 
 OF THE SOCIETY WHICH WAS FORMED IN THE RUE DES LOM- 
 BARDS, AT THE SIGN OF THE PILON d'oR, TO CARRY 
 OUT THE IDEA OF M. d'aRTAGNAN. 
 
 After an instant of silence, in which DArtagnan ap- 
 peared to be collecting, not one idea, but all his ideas — 
 It cannot be, my dear Planchet," said he, ^Hhat you 
 have not heard mention of his Majesty Charles I., King of 
 England 1 " 
 
 ''Alas ! yes. Monsieur, since you left France in order to 
 carry him assistance, and since, in spite of that assistance, 
 he fell, and was near dragging you down in his fall." 
 
 " Exactly so ; I see you have a good memory, Planchet." 
 
 '' Peste I MoDsieur, the astonishing thing would be, if I 
 could have lost that memory, 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 Charles 
 fell, how you sailed the half of a night in a scuttled vessel, 
 and saw rise upon the surface of the water that good M. 
 Mordaunt with a certain gold-hafted poniard sticking in 
 his breast, one is not very likely to forget such things." 
 
 ''And yet there are people who forget them, Planchet." 
 
 " Yes ; such as have not seen them, or have not heard 
 Grimaud relate them." 
 
 " Well, it is all the better that you recollect all that ; I 
 shall only have to remind you of one thing, and that is, 
 that Charles I. had a son." 
 
D'AKTAGNAN'S IDEA. 
 
 189 
 
 Without contradicting you, Monsieur, he had two," 
 said Planchet ; for I saw the second in Paris, Monsieur 
 the Duke of York, one day, as he was going to the Palais 
 Eoyal, and I was told that he was only the second son of 
 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, 
 
 — to this eldest son, formerly called the Prince of Wales, 
 and who is now styled Charles II., King of England." 
 
 " A king without a kingdom. Monsieur," replied Plan- 
 chet, sententiously. 
 
 " Yes, Planchet ; and you may add an unfortunate 
 prince, more unfortunate than a man of the dregs of the 
 people in the worst quarter of Paris." 
 
 Planchet made a gesture full of that easy compassion 
 which we grant to strangers with whom we think we can 
 never possibly find ourselves in contact. Besides, he did 
 not see in these politico-sentimental utterances any sign 
 of the commercial idea of M. T)^Artpgnan, and it was in 
 this that he was principally interested. D'Artagnan, 
 who was, by habit, pretty well acquainted with men and 
 things, understood Planchet. 
 
 "I am coming to our business," said he. "This young 
 Prince of Wales — a king without a kingdom, as you 
 have so well said, Planchet — has interested me, — me, 
 D'Artagnan. I have seen him begging assistance of 
 Mazarin, who is a dirty pedant, and the aid of Louis, 
 who is a child ; and it appeared to me, who am ac- 
 quainted with such things, that in the intelligent eye 
 of the fallen king, in the nobleness of his whole person, 
 
 — a nobleness apparent above all his miseries, — I could 
 discern the stuff of a man and the heart of a king." 
 
 Planchet tacitly approved of all this ; but it did not 
 at all, in his eyes at least, throw any light upon D'Ar- 
 
190 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 tagnan's idea. The latter continued : " 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 find them whenever they want them. 'Now, 
 this king without a kingdom is, in my opinion, a grain 
 of seed which will blossom in some season or other, pro- 
 vided a skilful, 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 did not perfectly comprehend all that 
 was said. 
 
 ' Poor little seed of a king ! ' said I to myself ; " and 
 really I was affected, Planchet, which leads me to think 
 T am entering upon a foolish business. And that is why 
 I wished to consult you, my friend." 
 
 Planchet colored w^ith pleasure and pride. 
 
 " * Poor little seed of a king ! I will pick you up and 
 cast you into good ground.' " 
 
 " Good God ! " said Planchet, looking earnestly at his 
 old master, as if in doubt of the state of his reason. 
 
 ''Well, what is it said D'Artagnan; " what hurts 
 youT' 
 
 '' 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 1 " 
 " Yes." 
 
 " To understand that I wish to replace upon his throne 
 this King Charles II., who has no throne 1 Is that liV 
 Planchet made a prodigious bound in his chair. " Ah, 
 
D'ARTAGNAN'S IDEA. 
 
 191 
 
 ah ! " said he, in evident terror, " that is what you call 
 a restoration ! " 
 
 " Yes, Planchet ; is not that the proper term for it 1 " 
 
 " Oh, no doubt, — no doubt ! But have you reflected 
 seriously 1 " 
 
 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 these things which have nothing to do with 
 my trade ; but since it is an affair that you propose to 
 me, — for you propose an affair to me; do you not ? — " 
 
 ^' A superb one, Planchet." 
 
 " But as you propose to me an affair, I have the right 
 to discuss it." 
 
 " Discuss it, Planchet ; out of discussion light is born." 
 ^' Well, then, since I ha^'e Monsieur's permission, I 
 will tell him that there is yonder, in the first place, the 
 Parliament." 
 
 Well, next 1 " 
 
 And then the army." 
 
 Good ! Do you see anything else 1 " 
 
 And then the nation." 
 
 Is that all 1 " 
 
 "The nation, which consented to the overthrow and 
 death of the late king, the father of this, and which will 
 not be willing to belie its acts." 
 
 " Planchet," said D'Artagnan, " you reason like a 
 cheese! The nation — the nation is tired of these gen- 
 tlemen who give themselves barbarous names and sing 
 psalms to it. Chant for chant, my dear Planchet ; 
 I have remarked that nations prefer singing a merry 
 
192 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 chant to the plain chant. Remember the Fronde ; what 
 did they sing in those times'? Well, those were good 
 times.'* 
 
 J^ot too good, — not too good! I was near being 
 hung in those times." 
 
 " Well, but you were not 1 " 
 ]N"o." 
 
 And you laid the foundation of your fortune in the 
 midst of all those songs '] " 
 ^* That is true.' 
 
 You have nothing to say against them, then? " 
 ^' Well, I return, then, to the array and the Parliament." 
 " I say that I borrow twenty thousand livres of M. 
 Planchet, and that I put twenty thousand livres of my 
 own to it, and with these forty thousand livres I raise 
 an army." 
 
 Planchet clasped his hands ; he saw that D'Artagnan 
 was in earnest, and, in good truth, he believed that his 
 master had lost his senses. 
 
 "An army! — ah, ^lonsieur," said he, with his m.ost 
 agreeable smile, for fear of irritating the madman and 
 rendering him furious, an army ! — large 1 " 
 
 " Of forty men," said D'xA.rtagnan. 
 
 " Forty against forty thousand ! that is not enough. 
 I know very well that you, M. d'Artagnan, alone are 
 equal to a thousand men ; but where are we to find 
 thirty-nine men equal to you ? Or, if we could find them, 
 who would 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 ex- 
 actly why I say that in the first pitched battle you fight 
 with your forty men I am very much afraid — " 
 
 Therefore I will fight no pitched battles, my dear 
 
D'AKTAGNAN'S IDEA. 
 
 193 
 
 Planchet," said the Gascon, laughing. ^'We have very 
 fine examples in antiquity of skilful retreats and marches, 
 which consisted in avoiding the enemy instead of attack- 
 ing them. You should know that, Planchet, who com- 
 manded the Parisians the day on which they ought to 
 have fought against the Musketeers, and who so well 
 calculated marches and countermarches, that you never 
 left the Palais-Eoyal." 
 
 Planchet could not forbear laughing. " It is plain," 
 replied he, that if your forty men conceal themselves, 
 and are not unskilful, they may hope not to be beaten ; 
 but you propose to yourself some result, do you not " 
 
 " JSTo doubt. This then, in my opinion, is the plan to 
 be proceeded upon in order to replace quickly his Majesty 
 Charles II. on his throne.'' 
 
 " Good !" said Planchet, redoubling his attention ; "let 
 us see your plan. But, in the first place, it appears to 
 me we are forgetting something." 
 What is that 1 " 
 
 " We have set aside the nation, which prefers singing 
 merry songs to psalms, and the army, which we will 
 not fight ; but the Parliament remains, and that seldom 
 sings.'* 
 
 And it does not fight, either. How is it, Planchet, 
 that an intelligent man like you should take any heed of 
 a set of brawlers who call themselves Rumps and Bare- 
 bones 1 The Parliament does not trouble me at all, 
 Planchet.'' 
 
 " Since it does not trouble you. Monsieur, let us pass 
 on." 
 
 " Yes, and arrive at the result. You remember Crom* 
 well, Planchet 1" 
 
 " I have heard a great deal of talk about him." 
 " He was a rough soldier." 
 
 VOL. I. — 13 
 
194 
 
 THE VICO^ilTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 And a terrible eater, moreover." 
 
 " What do you mean by that 1 " 
 
 " Why, at one gnlp, he swallowed all England." 
 
 " Well, Planchet, the evening before the day on which 
 he swallowed England, if any one had swallowed 
 Cromwell 1 " 
 
 " Oh, Monsieur, that is one of the first axioms of math- 
 ematics, that the container must be greater than the 
 contained." 
 
 "Very well ! You see our affair, Planchet." 
 " But Cromwell is dead, and his container is now the 
 tomb." 
 
 My dear Planchet, I see with pleasure that you have 
 not only become a mathematician, but a philosopher." 
 
 " Monsieur, in my grocery business I use much printed 
 paper, and that instructs me." 
 
 ^^Bravo 1 You know, then, in that case — for you have 
 not learnt mathematics and philosophy without a little 
 history — that after this Cromwell so great, there came 
 one w^ho was very little." 
 
 Yes ; he was named Pichard, and he has done as you 
 have, M. d'iVrtagnan, — he has given in his resignation." 
 
 <f Very w^ell said, — very w^ell ! After the great man 
 who is dead, after the little one who gave in his resigna- 
 tion, there has come a third. This one is named Monk. 
 He is an able general, considering that he has never fought 
 a battle ; he is a skilful diplomatist, considering that he 
 never speaks in public, and that, having to say ' Good- 
 day ' to a man, he meditates twelve hours, and ends by 
 saying ' Good-night,' — which makes people exclaim, 
 * Miracle ! ' seeing that it falls out correctly." 
 
 "That is rather strong," said Planchet ; " but I know 
 another polite man w^ho resembles him very much." 
 
 " Mazarin, you mean 1 " 
 
D'ARTAGNAN'S IDEA. 
 
 195 
 
 " Himself.'^ 
 
 " You are right, Planchet ; only, Mazarin does not 
 aspire to the throne of France, and that changes every- 
 thing, you see. Well, this Monk, who has England 
 ready -roasted in his plate, and who is already opening his 
 mouth to swallow it, — this Monk, who says to the peo- 
 ple of Charles II., 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 do not know you/ This Monk, the most 
 important man in England, when he shall have swallowed 
 it—" 
 
 " Well 1 " asked Planchet. 
 Well, my friend, I will go over yonder, and with my 
 forty men I will carry him off, pack him up, and bring 
 him into France, where two modes of proceeding present 
 themselves to my dazzled eyes." 
 
 Oh ! and to mine too," cried Planchet, transported 
 with enthusiasm. " We will put him in a cage and show 
 him for money." 
 
 " Well, Planchet, that is a third plan of which I had 
 not thought, and which you have discovered, — you 
 yourself." 
 
 " Do you think it a good one 1 " 
 
 ^' Yes, certainly ; but I think mine better." 
 
 Let us see yours, then." 
 " In the first place, I will set a ransom on him." 
 
 Of how much 1 " 
 " Peste ! a fellow like that must be well worth a hundred 
 thousand crowns." 
 " Yes, yes ! " 
 
 " You see, then, — in the first place, a ransom of a 
 hundred thousand crowns." 
 
196 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Or else — " 
 
 " Or else — which is much better — I deliver him up to 
 King Charles, who, having no longer either a general or an 
 army to fear, nor a diplomatist to trick him, will restore 
 himself, and when once restored will pay down to me the 
 hundred thousand crowns in question. That is the idea 
 I have formed ; what do you say to it, Planchet 1 " 
 
 ^'Magnificent, Monsieur!" cried Planchet, trembling 
 with emotion. How did you conceive that idea? " 
 
 " It came to me one morning on the banks of the Loire, 
 while our beloved king Louis XIY. was snivelling over 
 the hand of Mademoiselle de Mancini." 
 
 Monsieur, I declare the idea is sublime. But — " 
 
 "Ah ! there is ^hid2'' 
 
 " Permit me ! But this is a little like the skin of that 
 fine bear, you know, that they were about to sell, but 
 which it was necessary to take from the back of the bear, 
 who was still alive. Now, to take Monk, there will be 
 a bit of a scuffle, I should think." 
 
 " No doubt ; but as I shall raise an army — " 
 
 " Yes, yes, — I understand, jparhleu I — an exploit. Yes, 
 then. Monsieur, you will triumph, for no one equals you 
 in that sort of adventure." 
 
 " I certainly am lucky in them," said D^Artagnan, with 
 a proud simplicity. ''You know that if for this affair I 
 had my dear Athos, my brave Porthos, and my cunning 
 Aramis, the business would be settled ; but they 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 the investment advantageous % " 
 
 " Too much, — too much." 
 
 " How can that be 1 " 
 
 "Because fine things never reach the point expected." 
 This is infallible, Planchet, and the proof is that I 
 
D'ARTAGNA]SI'S IDEA. 
 
 197 
 
 undertake it. It will be for you a tolerably pretty gain, 
 and for me a very interesting stroke. It will be said, 
 ' Such was the old age of M. d'Artagnan ; * and I shall hold 
 a place in stories, and even in history itself, Planchet. I 
 am greedy 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 gigantic project is ripened, my 
 shop seems a palace to me.'* 
 
 " Beware, beware, Planchet ! If the least report of this 
 escapes, there is the Bastille for both of us. Beware, my 
 friend ; for this is a plot we are hatching. Monk is the 
 ally of Mazarin, — beware ! " 
 
 " Monsieur, when a man has had the honor to belong to 
 you, he knows nothing of fear ; and when he has the 
 advantage of being bound up in interests with you, he 
 holds his tongue." 
 
 « Very well ; that is more your affair than mine, seeing 
 that in a week I shall be in England." 
 
 Begone, begone. Monsieur, — 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 1 " 
 
 ^^Gold; that is most convenient. But how are w^e 
 going to arrange this'? Let us see." 
 
 " Oh, good Lord ! in the simplest way possible. You 
 shall give me a receipt ; that is all." 
 
 "No, no,*' said D'Artagnan, warmly; "we must pre- 
 serve order in all things." 
 
 That is likewise my opinion ; but with you, M. 
 d'Artagnan — " 
 
 " And if I should die yonder — if I am killed by a 
 musket-ball — if I should burst with drinking beer'? " 
 
 " Monsieur, I beg you to believe that in that case I 
 
198 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 should be so much afflicted at your death, that I should 
 think nothing about the money." 
 
 Thank you, Planchet ; but that will not do. We 
 will, like two lawyers* clerks, draw up together an 
 agreement, a sort of act, w^hich may be called a deed 
 of partnership." 
 
 " Willingly, Monsieur.'^ 
 
 " I know it is difficult to draw such a thing up, but w^e 
 will try." 
 
 Let us try, then ; " and Planchet went in search of 
 a pen, ink, and paper. D^Artagnan took the pen, dipped 
 it in the ink, and wrote : — 
 
 " Between Messire d'Artagnan, ex-lieutenant of the 
 king's Musketeers, at present residing in the Eue Tique- 
 tonne, Hotel de la Chevrette, and the Sieur Planchet, 
 grocer, residing in the Rue des Lombards, at the sign of 
 the Pilon d'Or, it has been agreed as follows : A partner- 
 ship, with a capital of forty thousand livres, is formed for 
 the purpose of carrying out an idea conceived by M. d'Ar- 
 tagnan. The Sieur Planchet, who is acquainted with this 
 idea of M. d'Artagnan, and who approves of it in all 
 points, will place twenty thousand livres in the hands 
 of M. d'Artagnan. He will require neither repayment 
 nor interest before the return of M. d'Artagnan from a 
 voyage he is about to make into England. On his part, 
 M. d'Artagnan undertakes to find twenty thousand livres, 
 which he will join to the twenty thousand already laid 
 down by the Sieur Planchet. He wmII employ the said 
 sum of forty thousand livres as shall seem to him good, 
 but still in an undertaking which is described below. On 
 the day in which M. d'Artagnan shall have re-established, 
 by whatever means, his Majesty King Charles II. upon 
 the throne of England, he will pay into the hands of M. 
 Planchet the sum of- — " 
 
D'ARTAGNAN'S IDEA. 
 
 199 
 
 "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 by half; 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 not find it equitable in every respect when it 
 is written, well, we can scratch it out again ; — 
 
 " ' Nevertheless, as M. dWrtagnan brings to the associ- 
 ation, besides his capital of twenty thousand livres, his 
 time, his idea, his industry, and- his skin, — things which 
 he appreciates strongly, particularly the last, — M. d'Ar- 
 tagnan will keep, of the three hundred thousand livres, 
 two hundred thousand livres for himself, which will make 
 his share two thirds.' " 
 
 "Very well," said Planchet. 
 
 " Is it just 1 " 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 1 " 
 
 " Yes, I only ask one month." 
 
 " Monsieur," said Planchet, generously, " I will give 
 you six weeks." 
 
 "Thank you," replied the musketeer, civilly; after 
 which the two partners re-perused 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 it better." 
 
200 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Do you find it so ? Let us sign it, then ; " and both 
 affixed their signatures. 
 
 *'In this fashion," said D'Artagnan, *'I shall nave no 
 obligations to any one." 
 
 " But I shall be under obligations to you," said Planchet. 
 
 " No ; for whatever store I set by it, Planchet, I may 
 lose my skin yonder, and you will lose all. Apro2Jos — 
 peste ! — that makes me think of the principal, an in- 
 dispensable clause. I will write it : — 
 
 ' In the case of M. d'Artagnan succumbing in this en- 
 terprise, liquidation will be considered made, and the Sieur 
 Planchet will give quittance from that moment to the shade 
 of Messire dArtagnan, for the twenty thousand livres paid 
 by him into the treasury of the said partnership.' " 
 
 This last clause made Planchet knit his brows a little ; 
 but when he saw the brilliant eye, the muscular hand, 
 the back so supple and strong, of his associate, he re- 
 gained his courage, and, without regret, at once added 
 another stroke to his signature. D'Artagnan did the 
 same. Thus was drawn the first deed of partnership 
 known ; perhaps such things have been abused a little 
 since, both in form and principle. 
 
 "Now," said Planchet, pouring out the last glass of 
 Anjou wine for D'Artagnan, — " now go to sleep, my dear 
 master." 
 
 "No," replied DArtagnan; "for the most difficult 
 part now remains to be done, and I will think over that 
 difficult part." 
 
 " Bah ! " said Planchet ; " I have so great confidence 
 in you, M. d'Artagnan, that I would not give my hun- 
 dred thousand livres for ninety thousand livres down." 
 
 "And devil take me if I don't think you are right ! " 
 Upon which D'Artagnan took a candle and went up to 
 his bedroom. 
 
D'ARTAGNAN PREPARES TO TRAVEL. 
 
 201 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 IN WHICH d'aRTAGNAN PREPARES TO TRAVEL FOR THE 
 HOUSE OF PLANCHET AND COMPANY. 
 
 D^Artagnan reflected to such good purpose during the 
 night, that his plan 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 is it. I will 
 seek out forty steady, firm men, recruited among people 
 a little compromised, but having habits of discipline. I 
 will promise them five hundred livres for a month if they 
 return ; nothing if they do not return, or half for their 
 kindred. As to food and lodging, that concerns the 
 English, who have beasts in their pastures, bacon in 
 their bacon-racks, fowls in their poultry-yards, and corn 
 in their barns. I will present myself to General Monk 
 with my little body of troops. He will receive me. I 
 shall gain his confidence, and will abuse it as soon as 
 possible." 
 
 But without going further, D'Artagnan shook his head 
 and interrupted himself. " No," said he ; "I should not 
 dare to relate this to Athos ; the scheme is therefore not 
 honorable. I must use violence," continued he, — very 
 certainly I must, but without compromising my loyalty. 
 With forty men I will traverse the country as a partisan. 
 But if I fall in with, not forty thousand English, as Plan- 
 chet said, but purely and simply with four hundred, I 
 shall be beaten. Supposing that among my forty war- 
 
202 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 riors there should be found at least ten stupid ones, — 
 ten who will allow themselves to be killed one after the 
 other, through mere stupidity? No; it is, in fact, im- 
 possible to find forty men to be depended upon, — that is 
 out of the question. I must learn how to be contented 
 with thirty. With ten men less I should have the right 
 of avoiding any encounter at arms, on account of the 
 small number of my people ; and if the encounter should 
 take place, my choice is much more certain with thirty 
 men than forty. Besides, I should save five thousand 
 francs, — that is to say, the eighth of my capital ; that is 
 worth the trial. That is to say, I will have thirty men. 
 I will divide them into three bands, — we wull spread 
 ourselves about over the country, with instructions for 
 reunion at a given moment ; in this fashion, ten by ten, 
 we should excite no suspicion, we should pass unper- 
 ceived. Yes, yes, thirty, — that is a magic number. There 
 are three tens, — three, that divine number ! And then, 
 truly, a company of thirty men, when all together, will 
 look rather imposing. Ah ! stupid wretch that I am ! " 
 continued D'Artagnan, " I want thirty horses. That is 
 ruinous. Where the devil was my head when I forgot 
 the horses 1 We cannot, however, think of striking such 
 a blow without horses. Well, so be it, that sacrifice 
 must be made; we can get the horses in the country,— 
 they are not bad, besides. But I forgot — peste ! Three 
 bands, — that necessitates three leaders : there is the diffi- 
 culty. Of the three commanders I have already one, — 
 that is myself ; yes, but the tw^o others w^ill of themselves 
 cost almost as much money as all the rest of the troop. 
 No ; decidedly I mast have but one lieutenant. In that 
 case, then, I should reduce my troop to twenty men. I 
 know very well that twenty men is but very little ; but 
 since with thirty I was determined not to seek to come 
 
D'ARTAGNAN PREPAEES TO TRAVEL. 203 
 
 to blows, I should do so more carefully still with twenty. 
 Twenty, — that is a round number ; that, besides, re- 
 duces the number of the horses by ten, which is a 
 consideration ; and then, with a good lieutenant — Mor- 
 dioux I what things patience 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 
 thousand livres 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 him be found, then ; 
 and after — % That is not so easy ; he must be brave 
 and good, a second myself. Yes ; but a lieutenant must 
 have my secret, and as that secret is worth a million, 
 and I shall only pay my man a thousand livres, fifteen 
 hundred at the most, my man will sell the secret to 
 Monk. Mordioux I no lieutenant. Besides, this man, 
 were he as mute as a disciple of Pythagoras, — this man 
 would be sure to have in the troop some favorite soldier, 
 whom he would make his sergeant ; the sergeant would 
 penetrate the secret of the lieutenant, in case the latter 
 should be honest and unwilling to sell it. Then the 
 sergeant, less honest and less ambitious, will give up the 
 whole for fifty thousand livres. Come, come ! that is 
 impossible. Decidedly the lieutenant is impossible. But 
 then I can have no division ; I cannot divide my troop 
 into two, and act upon two points at once, without an- 
 other selF, who — But what is the use of acting upon 
 two points, as we have only one man to take 1 What can 
 be the good to weaken a corps by placing the right here, 
 and the left there '? A single corps — mordioux ! a single 
 one, and that commanded by D'Artagnan. Very well. 
 But twenty men marching in one band are suspected by 
 everybody ; twenty horsemen must not be seen marching 
 together, or a company will be detached against them, 
 
204 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 and the countersign will be required ; which company, 
 upon seeing the embarrassment of the troop in giving it, 
 would shoot M. d'Artagnan and his men like so many 
 rabbits. I reduce myself, then, to ten men ; in this 
 fashion I shall act simply and with unity ; I shall be 
 forced to be prudent, which is half success in an affair 
 of the kind I am undertaking ; a greater number might, 
 perhaps, have drawn me into some folly. Ten horses 
 are not many either to buy or take. A capital idea ; 
 what tranquillity it infuses into my mind ! No more 
 suspicions, no more countersigns, no more dangers ! 
 Ten men, — r they are valets or clerks. Ten men, lead- 
 ing ten horses laden with merchandise of whatever kind, 
 are tolerated, well received everywhere. Ten men travel 
 on account of the house of Planchet & Co., of France : 
 nothing can be said against that. These ten men, 
 clothed like manufacturers, have a good cutlass or a 
 good mousqueton at their saddle-bow, and a good pistol 
 in the holster. They never allow themselves to be 
 uneasy, because they have no evil designs. They are 
 perhaps, at bottom, a little disposed to be smugglers, 
 but what harm is in that 1 Smuggling is not, like po- 
 lygamy, a hanging offence. The worst that can happen 
 to us is the confiscation of our merchandise. Our mer- 
 chandise confiscated — a fine affair that ! Come, come ! 
 it is a superb plan. Ten men only — ten men, whom I 
 will engage for my service ; ten men, who shall be as 
 resolute as forty who would cost me four times as much, 
 and to whom, for greater security, I will never open ray 
 mouth as to my designs, and to whom I shall only say, 
 ^ My friends, there is a blow to be struck.' Things be- 
 ing after this fashion, Satan will be very malicious if he 
 plays me one of his tricks. Fifteen thousand livres 
 saved — that 's superb — out of twenty ! " 
 
D'ARTAGNAN PREPARES TO TRAVEL. 
 
 205 
 
 Thus fortified by his laborious calculations, D'Artagnan 
 stopped at this plan, and determined to change nothing 
 in it. He had already, on a list furnished by his inex- 
 haustible memory, ten men illustrious among the seekers 
 of adventures, ill treated by fortune, or not on good terms 
 with justice. Upon this D'Artagnan rose, and instantly 
 set off on the search, telling Planchet not to expect him 
 at breakfast, and perhaps not at dinner. A day and a 
 half spent in rummaging among certain cabins in Paris 
 sufficed for his recruiting; and, without allowing his 
 adventurers to communicate with each other, he had 
 picked up and got together, in less 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'Artagnan had had an opportunity of ap- 
 preciating in various encounters, and whom drunkenness, 
 unlucky sword-thrusts, unexpected winnings at play, or 
 the economical reforms of Mazarin, had forced to seek 
 shade and solitude, those two great consolers of irritated 
 and chafed spirits. They bore upon their countenances 
 and in their vestments the traces of the heartaches they 
 had undergone. Some had their visages scarred, — all 
 had their clothes in rags. D'Artagnan comforted the 
 most needy of these fraternal miserables by a prudent 
 distribution of the crowns of the partnership ; then hav- 
 ing taken care that these crowns should be employed in 
 the physical improvement of the troop, he appointed a 
 rendezvous with them in the North of France, between 
 Berghes and Saint-Omer. Six days were allowed as the 
 utmost terra ; and D'Artagnan was sufficiently acquainted 
 with the good will, the good humor, and the comparative 
 probity of these illustrious recruits, to be certain that 
 not one of them would fail in his appointment. These 
 
206 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 orders given, this rendezvous fixed, he went to bid fare- 
 well to Planch et, who asked news of his army. D'Ar- 
 tagnan did not think proper to inform him of the 
 reduction he had made in his forces. He feared he 
 should make an abatement in the confidence of his as- 
 sociate by such an avowal. Planchet was delighted to 
 learn that the army was levied, and that he, Planchet, 
 should find himself a kind of half-king, who from his 
 throne-counter kept in pay a body of troops destined to 
 make war against perfidious Albion, that enemy of all 
 true French hearts. Planchet paid down, in double- 
 loiiis, twenty thousand livres to D'Artagnan, on the part 
 of himself (Planchet), and twenty thousand livres more, 
 still in double-louis, on account of D'Artagnan. D'Ar- 
 tagnan placed each of the sums in a bag, and weighing a 
 bag in each hand, "This money is very embarrassing, my 
 dear Planchet," said he. " Do you know this weighs 
 more than thirty pounds 1 " 
 
 **Bah ! your horse will carry that like a feather." 
 
 D'Artagnan shook his head. ^' Don't tell such things 
 to me, Planchet ; a horse overloaded with thirty pounds, 
 in addition to the rider and his portmanteau, cannot cross 
 a river so easily, — cannot leap over a wall or a ditch so 
 lightly ; and the horse failing, the horseman fails. It is 
 true that you, Planchet, who have served in the infantry, 
 may not be aware of all that." 
 
 " Then what is to be done. Monsieur 1 " said Planchet, 
 greatly embarrassed. 
 
 Listen to me," said D'Artagnan. " I will pay my 
 army on its return home. Keep my half of twenty thou- 
 sand livres, which you can make use of during that 
 time." 
 
 And my half ? " said Planchet. 
 I will take that with me." 
 
D'ARTAGNAN PREPARES TO TRAVEL. 
 
 207 
 
 *^Your confidence does me honor," said Plancbet ; 
 
 but suppose you should not return % " 
 " That is possible, though not very probable. Then, 
 Planchet, in case I should not return — give me a pen ; 
 I will make my will." D'Artagnan took a pen and some 
 paper, and wrote upon a plain sheet : — 
 
 I, D'Artagnan, possess twenty thousand livres, laid 
 up, sou by sou, during thirty years that I have been in 
 the service of his Majesty the King of France. I leave 
 five thousand to Athos, five thousand to Porthos, and five 
 thousand to Aramis, that they may give the said sums 
 in my name and their own to my young friend Eaoul, 
 A'icomte de Bragelonne. I give the remaining five thou- 
 sand to Plancbet, that he may distribute the fifteen 
 thousand with less regret among my friends. With 
 which purpose I sign these presents. — D'Artagnan." 
 
 Plancbet appeared very curious to know what D'Ar- 
 tagnan had written. 
 
 " Here," said the musketeer, "read it." 
 
 On reading the last lines the tears came into Planchet's 
 eyes. " You think, then, that I would not have given 
 the money without that % Then I will have none of your 
 five thousand francs." 
 
 D'Artagnan smiled. "Accept it, accept it, Plancbet; 
 and in that way you will only lose fifteen thousand francs 
 instead of twenty thousand, and you will not be tempted 
 to disregard the signature of your master and friend in 
 seeking how to lose nothing at all." 
 
 How well that dear M. d'Artagnan was acquainted 
 with the hearts of men and of grocers ! They who have 
 pronounced Don Quixote mad because he rode out to the 
 conquest of an empire with nobody but Sancho his squire, 
 and they who have pronounced Sancho mad because he 
 accompanied his master in his attempt to conquer the 
 
208 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 said empire, — they certainly will have no hesitation in 
 extending the same judgment to D'Artagnan and Planchet. 
 And yet the first passed for one of the most subtle spirits 
 among the astute minds of the court of France. As to 
 the second, he had acquired by good right the reputation of 
 having one of the longest heads among the grocers of the 
 Kue des Lombards ; consequently of Paris, consequently of 
 France. Now, to consider these two men from the point 
 of view in which you would consider other men, and the 
 means by the aid of which they contemplated to restore 
 a monarch to his throne, comparatively with other means, 
 the shallowest brains of the country where brains are most 
 shallow must have revolted against the presumptuous 
 madness of the lieutenant and the stupidity of his associate^ 
 Fortunately D'Artagnan was not a man to listen to the 
 idle talk of those around him, or to the comments that 
 were made on himself. He had adopted the motto, " Act 
 well, and let people talk." Planchet, on his part, had 
 adopted this : Act, and say nothing." It resulted from 
 this, that, according to the custom of all 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 w^eather, without a cloud in the heavens, — with- 
 out a cloud on his mind, joyous and strong, calm and 
 decided, great in his resolution, and consequently carry- 
 ing with him a tenfold dose of that potent fluid which the 
 shocks of mind cause to spring from the nerves, and which 
 procure for the human machine a force and an influence 
 of which future ages will render, according to all proba- 
 bility, an account more arithmetically than we can possibly 
 do at present. He was again, as in times past, in that 
 same road fertile of adventures which had led him to 
 Boulogne, and which he was now travelling for the fourth 
 
D'ARTAGNAN PREPAEES TO TRAVEL. 209 
 
 time. It appeared to him that he could almost recognize 
 the trace of his own steps upon the road, and that of his 
 fist upon the doors of the hostelries ; his memory, always 
 active and present, brought back that youth which had 
 not, thirty years before, belied either his great heart or 
 his wrist of steel. What a rich nature was that of this 
 man ! He had all passions, all defects, ail w^eaknesses ; 
 and the spirit of contradiction, familiar to his understand- 
 ing, changed all these imperfections into corresponding qual- 
 ities. D^Artagnan, thanks to his ever-active imagination, 
 was afraid of a shadow ; and ashamed of being afraid, he 
 marched straight up to that shadow, and then became 
 extravagant in his bravery, if the danger proved to be real. 
 Thus everything in him was emotion, and therefore enjoy- 
 ment. He loved the society of others, but never became 
 tired of his own ; and more than once, if he could have 
 been observed when he was alone, he might have been 
 seen laughing at the jokes he related to himself, or the 
 tricks his imagination created just five minutes before 
 ennui might overtake him. D'Artagnan was not perhaps 
 so gay this time as he would have been with the prospect 
 of finding some good friends at Calais, instead of that of 
 joining the ten scamps there. Melancholy, however, did 
 not visit him above once a day ; and he received about 
 five visits from that sombre deity before he got sight 
 of the sea at Boulogne, and these visits were indeed but 
 short. But when once D'Artagnan found himself near the 
 field of action, all other feeling but that of confidence disap- 
 peared never to return. From Boulogne he followed the 
 coast to Calais. Calais was the place of general rendezvous, 
 and at Calais he had named to each of his recruits the 
 hostelry of the Grand Monarque, where living was not 
 extravagant, where sailors messed, and where men of the 
 sword, with sheath of leather be it understood, found 
 
 VOL, I. — 14 
 
210 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 lodging, table, food, and all the comforts of life, for thirty 
 sous per diem. D'Artagnan proposed to himself to take 
 them by surprise in flagrante delicto of wandering life, and 
 to judge by the first appearance if he could reckon upon 
 them as trusty companions. 
 
 He arrived at Calais at half-past four in the afternoon. 
 
D'ARTAGNAN ON HIS TEAVELS. 
 
 211 
 
 CHAPTEE XXII. 
 
 d'artagnan travels for the house of planchet 
 and company. 
 
 The hostelry of the Grand Monarque was situated in 
 a Httle street parallel to the port, but not opening oat 
 upon the port itself. Some lanes cut — as steps cut the 
 two parallels of the ladder — the two great straight lines 
 of the port and the street. By these lanes passengers 
 came suddenly from the port into the street, and from 
 the street on to the port. D'Artagnan, arrived at the 
 port, took one of these lanes, and came out imexpectedly 
 in front of the hostelry of the Grand Monarque. The 
 moment was well chosen, and might remind D'Artagnan 
 of his start in life at the hostelry of the Franc-Meunier 
 at Meung. Some sailors who had been playing at dice 
 had started a quarrel, and were threatening one another 
 furiously. The host, hostess, and two lads were watching 
 with anxiety the circle of these angry gamblers, from the 
 midst of which war seemed ready to break forth, bristling 
 with knives and hatchets. The play, nevertheless, was 
 continued. A stone bench was occupied by two men, 
 who appeared thence to watch the door ; four tables, 
 placed at the back of the common chamber, were occupied 
 by eight other individuals. Neither the men at the door 
 nor those at the tables took any part in the play or the 
 quarrel. D'Artagnan recognized his ten men in these 
 cold, indifferent spectators. The quarrel went on increas- 
 ing. Every passion has, like the sea, its tide which rises 
 
212 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 and falls. Arrived at the climax of passion, one sailor 
 overturned the table and the money which was upon it. 
 The table fell, and the money rolled about. In an instant 
 all belonging to the hostelry threw themselves upon the 
 stakes, and many a piece of silver was picked up by 
 people who stole away while the sailors were scuffling 
 w4th one another. 
 
 The two men on the bench and the eight at the tables, 
 although they seemed perfect strangers to one another, — 
 these ten men alone, we say, appeared to have agreed to 
 remain impassive amidst the cries of fury and the chink- 
 ing of money. Two only contented themselves with re- 
 pulsing with their feet combatants who came under their 
 table. Two others, rather than take part in this disturb- 
 ance, buried their hands in their pockets ; and another 
 two jumped upon the table they occupied, as do people 
 surprised by a freshet, to avoid being submerged by over- 
 flowing water. 
 
 *'Come, come," said D'Artagnan to himself, having lost 
 none of the details we have related, ^* this is a very fair 
 gathering, — circumspect, calm, accustomed to disturb- 
 ance, acquainted with blows 1 Peste I I have been lucky." 
 
 • All at once his attention was called to a particular 
 part of the room. The two men who had repulsed the 
 strugglers with their feet, were assailed wath abuse by 
 the sailors, w^ho had become reconciled. One of them, 
 half drunk with passion and quite drunk with beer, came, 
 in a menacing manner, to demand of the shorter of these 
 two sages, by what right he had touched with his foot 
 creatures of the good God, who were not dogs. And 
 while putting this question, in order to make it more 
 direct, he applied his great fist to the nose of D'Artagnan'a 
 recruit. This man became pale, but it was not discerni- 
 ble whether his paleness arose from anger or from fear ; 
 
D'ARTAGNAN ON HIS TRAVELS. 213 
 
 seeing which, the sailor concluded it was fron^v fear, • and 
 raised his fist with the manifest intention ot letting it 
 fall upon the head of the stranger. But the threatened 
 man, without appearing to move, dealt the sailor such a 
 severe blow in the stomach as sent him rolling to the 
 other side of the room with frightful cries. At the same 
 instant, rallied by the esprit de corps, all the comrades of 
 the conquered man fell upon the conqueror. The latter, 
 with the same coolness of which he had given proof, 
 without committing the imprudence of touchmg his arms, 
 took up a beer-pot with 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 men at the tables, 
 who had not stirred, perceived that their cause was at 
 stake, and came to the rescue. At the same time the 
 two indifferent spectators at the door turned round with 
 frowning brows, indicating their evident intention of 
 taking the enemy in the rear, if the enemy did not cease 
 their aggressions. The host, his helpers, and two watch- 
 men who were passing, and who from curiosity had 
 penetrated too far into the room, were confounded in the 
 tumult and loaded with blows. The Parisians hit like 
 Cyclops, with a solidity and skill delightful to behold. 
 At length, obliged to beat a retreat before numbers, they 
 formed an intrenchment behind the great table, which 
 they raised by main force, while the two others armed 
 themselves each with a trestle, and, using it like a great 
 sledge-hammer, knocked down at a blow eight sailors upon 
 whose heads they had brought their monstrous catapult 
 to bear. The floor was already strewn with wounded, and 
 the room filled with cries and dust, when D'Artagnan, sat- 
 isfied with the test, advanced, sword in hand ; and strik- 
 ing with the pommel every head that came in his way, 
 he uttered a vigorous Holloa ! which put an instantaneous 
 
214 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 end to the conflict. A great back-flood from the centre 
 to the sides of the room directly took place, so that 
 D'Artagnan found himself isolated and master of the 
 situation. 
 
 " What is all this about 1 " then demanded he of the 
 assembly, with the majestic tone of Neptune pronouncing 
 the Quos ego. 
 
 At the very instant, at the first sound of his voice, to 
 carry on the Yirgilian metaphor, D'Artagnan's recruits, 
 each recognizing his sovereign lord, discontinued at the 
 same time their anger, their plank-fighting, and trestle 
 blows. On their side, the sailors, seeing that long, naked 
 sword, that martial air, and the agile arm which came to 
 the rescue of their enemies, in the person of a man who 
 seemed accustomed to command, — on their part, the sailors 
 picked np their wounded and their pitchers. The Pari- 
 sians wiped their brows, and viewed their leader with re- 
 spect. D'Artagnan was loaded with thanks by the host 
 of the Grand Monarque. He received them like a 
 man who knows that nothing is being offered that does 
 not belong to him, and then said he would go and walk 
 npon the port, till supper was ready. Immediately each 
 of the recruits, who understood the summons, took his 
 hat, brushed the dust off his clothes, and followed D'Ar- 
 tagnan. But D'Artagnan, while observing, examining 
 everything, took care not to stop. He directed his course 
 towards the dune ; and the ten men — surprised at finding 
 themselves going in the same path, uneasy at seeing on 
 their right, on their left, and behind them, companions 
 upon whom they had not reckoned — followed him, cast- 
 ing furtive glances at one another. It was not till he had 
 arrived at the hollow part of the deepest dune that D'Ar- 
 tagnan, smiling at seeing their shyness, turned towards 
 them, making a friendly sign with his hand. 
 
D'ARTAGNAN ON HIS TRAVELS. 
 
 215 
 
 Eh ! come, come, Messieurs," said he, let us not 
 devour one another ; you are made to hve together, to 
 understand one another in all respects, and not to devour 
 one another." 
 
 Instantly all hesitation ceased ; the men breathed as if 
 they had been taken out of a coffin, and examined one 
 another quietly. After this examination they turned 
 their eyes towards their leader, who, long acquainted with 
 the art of speaking to men of that class, improvised the 
 following little speech, pronounced with an energy truly 
 Gascon : — 
 
 " Messieurs, you all know who I am. I have engaged 
 you knowing you are brave, and willing to associate you 
 with me in a glorious enterprise. Figure to yourselves that 
 in laboring for me you labor for the king. I only warn 
 you that if you allow anything of this supposition to ap- 
 pear, I shall be forced to crack your skulls immediately, 
 in the manner most convenient to me. You are not ig- 
 norant. Messieurs, that State secrets are like a mortal 
 poison : as long as that poison is in its box and the box 
 closed, it is not injurious ; out of the box it kills. Now 
 draw near, and you shall know as much of this secret as 
 I am able to tell you." All drew close to him with an 
 expression of curiosity. " Approach," continued DAr- 
 tagnan, '^and let not the bird which passes over our heads, 
 the rabbit which sports in the dunes, the fish which leaps 
 from the waters, hear us. Our business is to learn and to 
 report to Monsieur the superintendant of finance to what 
 extent English smuggling is injurious to the French mer- 
 chants. I will enter every place and will see everything. 
 We are poor Picard fishermen, thrown upon the coast by 
 a storm. It is certain that we must sell fish, neither 
 more nor less, like true fishermen. Only people might 
 guess who we are, and might molest us ; it is therefore 
 
216 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 necessary that we should be-in a condition to defend our- 
 selves. And this is why I have selected men of spirit 
 and courage. We will lead a steady life, and we shall 
 not incur much danger^ seeing that we have behind us a- 
 powerful protector, thanks to whom na embarrassment is 
 possible. One thing alone annoys me ; but I hope, after 
 a short explanation, you will relieve me from that diffi- 
 culty. The thing which annoys me is taking with me a 
 crew of stupid fishermen, who will be very much in the 
 way ; while if, by chance, there were among you any who 
 have seen the sea — 
 
 " Oh ! let not that trouble you,'' said one of the re- 
 cruits ; I was a prisoner among the pirates of Tunis 
 three years, and can manoeuvre a boat like an admiral." 
 
 *^See," said D'Artagnan, " what an admirable thing is 
 chance ! " D'Artagnan pronounced these words with an 
 indefinable tone of feigned simplicity ; for D'Artagnan 
 knew very well that the victim of pirates was an old cor- 
 sair, and he had engaged him in consequence of that 
 knowledge. But D'Artagnan never said more than there 
 was occasion for saying, in order to leave people in 
 doubt. He was satisfied with the explanation, and wel- 
 comed the effect, without appearing to be preoccupied 
 with the cause. 
 
 " And I," said a second, — " I, by chance, had an uncle 
 who directed the works of the port of La Eochelle. When 
 quite a child, I played about the boats, and I know how 
 to handle an oar or a sail as well as the best ocean 
 sailor." 
 
 The last did not lie much more than the first, for he 
 had rowed on board his Majesty's galleys six years, at 
 Ciotat. Two others were more frank : they confessed 
 honestly that they had served on board a vessel as 
 soldiers on punishment, and did not blush at it. D'Ar- 
 
D'ARTAGNAN ON HIS TEAVELS. 
 
 217 
 
 tagnan found himself, then, the leader of six soldiers and 
 four sailors, having at once a land army and a sea force ; 
 which would have carried the pride of Planchet to its 
 height, if Planchet had known the details. 
 
 Nothing was now left bat the general orders, and D'Ar- 
 tagnan gave them with precision. He enjoined his men 
 to be ready to set out for the Hague, — some following the 
 coast which leads to Breskens, others the road to Ant- 
 werp. The rendezvous was given, by calculating each 
 day's march, at fifteen days 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 least hang- 
 ing look, two guards whom he had formerly known, and 
 whose only faults were being drunkards and gamblers. 
 These men had not entirely lost all ideas of civilization, 
 and under proper habiliments their hearts would have 
 renewed their beatings. D'Artagnan, not to occasion 
 jealousy among the others, made the rest go forward, 
 rie kept his two selected ones, clothed them from his own 
 kit, and set out with them. It was to these two, whom 
 he seemed to honor with an absolute confidence, that 
 D'Artagnan made a pretended avowal, designed to secure 
 the success of his expedition. He confessed to them that 
 the object was not to learn to what extent the French mer- 
 chants were injured by English smuggling, but to learn 
 how far French smuggling could annoy English trade. 
 These men appeared convinced ; they were effectively so. 
 D'Artagnan was quite sure that at the first debauch, 
 when thoroughly drunk, one of the two would divulge 
 the secret to the whole band. His play appeared to him 
 infallible. 
 
 A fortnight after all we have said had taken place at 
 Calais, the whole troop assembled at the Hague. Then 
 
218 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 D'Artagnan perceived that all his men, with remarkable 
 intelligence, had already disguised themselves as sailors, 
 more or less ill-treated by the sea. D'Artagnan left them 
 to sleep in a cabin in Newkerke Street, while he lodged 
 comfortably upon the Grand Canal. He learned that 
 the King of England had come back to his old ally Wil- 
 liam 11. of Nassau, Stadtholder of Holland. He learned 
 also that the refusal of Louis XIV. had a little cooled 
 the protection afforded him up to that time, and in con- 
 sequence he had gone to reside in a little village house at 
 Scheveningen, situated in the dunes, on the seashore, 
 about a league from the Hague. There, it was said, the 
 unfortunate banished king consoled himself in his exile, 
 by looking, with the melancholy peculiar to the princes 
 of his race, at that immense North Sea, which separated 
 him from his England, as it had formerly separated Marie 
 Stuart from France. There, behind the trees of the beau- 
 tiful wood of Scheveningen, on the fine sand upon which 
 grows the golden broom of the dune, Charles II. vegetated 
 as it did, — more unfortunate than it, for he had life and 
 thought, and he hoped and despaired by turns. 
 
 D'Artagnan went once as far as Scheveningen, in order 
 to be certain that all was true that w^as said of the king. 
 He beheld Charles II., pensive and alone, coming out of 
 a little door opening into the wood, and walking on the 
 beach, in the setting sun, without even attracting the 
 attention of the fishermen who, on their return in the even- 
 ing, drew, like the ancient mariners of the Archipelago, 
 their barks up upon the sand of the shore. D'Artagnan 
 recognized the king ; he saw him fix his melancholy look 
 upon the immense extent of the waters, and absorb upon 
 his pale countenance the red rays of the sun already cut 
 by the black line of the horizon. Then Charles returned 
 to his isolated abode, still alone, still slow and sad, amus- 
 
d'artagnan on his travels. 219 
 
 ing liimself with inakiDg the friable and moving sand 
 creak beneath his feet. That very evening D'Artagnan 
 hired for a thousand hvres a fishing-boat worth four 
 thousand. He paid the thousand livres down, and depos- 
 ited the three thousand with a burgomaster, after w^hich 
 he embarked without their being seen, and in a dark 
 night, the six men w^ho formed his land army ; and wdth 
 the rising tide, at three o'clock in the morning, he got 
 into the open sea, manoeuvring ostensibly with the four 
 others, and depending upon the science of his galley slave 
 as upon that of the first pilot of the port. 
 
220 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 IN WHICH THE AUTHOR, VERY UNWILLINGLY, IS FORCED 
 TO WRITE A LITTLE HISTORY. 
 
 While kings and men were thus occupied with England, 
 which governed itself quite alone, and which, it must be 
 said to its praise, had never been so badly governed, a 
 man upon whom God had fixed his eye and placed his 
 finger, a man predestined to write his name in brilliant 
 letters in the book of history, was pursuing in the face of 
 the world a work full of mystery and audacity. He went 
 on ; and no one knew whither he meant to go, although 
 not only England, but France, even Europe, watched him 
 marching with a firm step and lofty head. All that was 
 known of this man we are about to tell. Monk had just 
 declared for the liberty of the Eump Parliament, — a parlia- 
 ment which General Lambert, imitating Cromwell, whose 
 lieutenant he had been, had just blocked up so closely, in 
 order to bring it to his will, that no member, during all 
 the blockade, was able to go out, and only one, Peter 
 Wentworth, had been able to get in. Lambert and 
 Monk, — everything centred in these two men ; the 
 first representing military despotism, the second repre- 
 senting pure republicanism. These men w^ere the two 
 sole political representatives of that revolution in which 
 Charles L had at first lost his crown, and afterwards his 
 head. As regarded Lambert, he did not dissemble his 
 views ; he sought to establish a military government, and 
 to be himself the head of that government. 
 
HISTORICAL. 
 
 221 
 
 Monk — a rigid republican, some said — wished to main- 
 tain the Rump Parliament, that visible though degener- 
 ate representative of the republic. Monk — artful and 
 ambitious, said others — wished simply to make of this 
 parliament, w^hich he affected to protect, a solid step by 
 which to mount the throne which Cromwell had made 
 empty, but upon which he had never dared to take his 
 seat. Thus Lambert by persecuting the Parliament, and 
 Monk by declaring for it, had mutually proclaimed them- 
 selves enemies of each other. Monk and Lambert, there- 
 fore, had at first thought of creating an army each for 
 himself, — Monk in Scotland, where were the Presbyter- 
 ians and the royalists, that is to say, the malecontents ; 
 Lambert in London, where was found, as is always the 
 case, the strongest opposition against the power which 
 was in sight. Monk had pacified Scotland ; he had 
 there formed for himself an army, and found an asylum. 
 The one watched the other. Monk knew that the day 
 was not yet come, the day -marked by the Lord for a 
 great change ; his sword, therefore, appeared glued to the 
 sheath. Inexpugnable in his wild and mountainous Scot- 
 land, an absolute general, king of an army of eleven 
 thousand old soldiers, whom he had more than once led 
 on to victory ; as well informed, nay, even better, of the 
 affairs of London, than Lambert, who held garrison in the 
 city, — such was the position of Monk, when, at a hun- 
 dred leagues from London, he declared himself for the 
 parliament. Lambert, on the contrary, as we have said, 
 lived in the capital. That was the centre of all his oper- 
 ations, and he there collected around him all his friends, 
 and all the lower class of the people, always inclined to 
 cherish the enemies of constituted power. It was, then, 
 in London that Lambert learned of the support that, 
 from the frontiers of Scotland, Monk lent to the Parlia- 
 
222 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 nient. He judged there was no time to be lost, and that 
 the Tweed was not so far distant from the Thames that 
 an army could not march from one river to the other, 
 especially if well commanded. He knew, besides, that as 
 fast as the soldiers of Monk penetrated into England, 
 they would form on their route that ball of snow, the em- 
 blem of the globe of fortune, which is for the ambitious 
 nothing but a step rising without cessation to lift him to 
 the object of his pursuit. He got together, then, his 
 army, formidable at the same time for its character and 
 its numbers, and hastened to meet Monk, who, on his 
 part, like a prudent navigator sailing amid rocks, ad- 
 vanced by very short marches, his nose to the wind, lis- 
 tening to the reports and scenting the air which came 
 from London. 
 
 The two armies came in sight of each other near New- 
 castle. Lambert, arriving first, encamped in the city 
 itself Monk, always circumspect, stopped where he was, 
 and placed his general quarters at Coldstream, on the 
 Tweed. The sight of Lambert spread joy through the 
 army of Monk, while, on the contrary, the sight of Monk 
 threw disorder into the army of Lambert. It might have 
 been believed that these intrepid warriors, who had made 
 such a noise in the streets of London, had set out with 
 the hopes of meeting no one, and that now, seeing that 
 they had met an army, and that that army hoisted before 
 them not only a standard, but still further, a cause and a 
 principle, — it might have been believed, we say, that 
 these intrepid warriors had begun to reflect that they 
 were less good republicans than the soldiers of Monk, — 
 since the latter supported the Parliament, while Lambert 
 supported nothing, not even himself. As to Monk, if he 
 had had to reflect, or if he did reflect, it must have been 
 after a sad fashion ; for history relates — and that modest 
 
HISTORICAL. 
 
 223 
 
 dame, it is well known, never lies — for history relates 
 that on the day of his arrival at Coldstream search was 
 made in vain throughout the place for a single sheep. 
 
 If Monk had commanded an English army, that would 
 have been enough to bring about a general desertion. 
 But it is not with the Scotch as it is with the English, to 
 whom that fluid flesh which is called blood is a para- 
 mount necessity ; the Scotch, a poor and sober race, live 
 upon a little barley crushed between two stones, diluted 
 with the water of the fountain, and cooked upon another 
 stone, heated. The Scotch, their distribution of barley 
 being made, cared very little whether there was or was 
 not any meat in Coldstream. Monk, little accustomed to 
 barley-cakes, was hungry ; and his staff*, at least as hungry 
 as himself, looked with anxiety to the right and left, to 
 know what w^as being got ready for supper. Monk or- 
 dered search to be made ; his scouts had, on arriving in 
 the place, found it deserted and the cupboards empty ; 
 upon butchers and bakers it was of no use depending in 
 Coldstream. The smallest morsel of bread, then, could 
 not be found for the generars table. 
 
 As accounts succeeded one another, all equally unsatis- 
 factory, Monk, seeing terror and discouragement upon 
 every face, declared that he was not hungry ; besides, 
 they should eat on the morrow, since Lambert was there 
 probably with the intention of giving battle, and conse- 
 quently of giving up his provisions if he were beaten in 
 Newcastle, or of delivering the soldiers of Monk from hun- 
 ger forever if he should be victorious. This consolation 
 was efficacious upon only a very small number ; but that 
 was of small importance to Monk, — for Monk was very ab- 
 solute, under the appearance of the most perfect mildness. 
 Every one, therefore, was obliged to be satisfied, or at 
 least to appear so. Monk, quite as hungry as his people, 
 
224 THE VICOMTE DE BBAGELONNE. 
 
 but affecting perfect indifference for the absent mutton, 
 cut a fragment of tobacco, half an inch long, from the 
 plug of a sergeant who formed part of his suite, and be- 
 gan to masticate the said fragment, assuring his lieuten- 
 ants that hunger was a chimera, and that, besides, people 
 were never hungry when they had anything to chew. 
 This pleasantry satisfied some of those who had resisted 
 Monk's first deduction from the neighborhood of Lam- 
 bert's army ; the number of the dissentients diminished 
 then greatly ; the guard took their posts, the patrols be- 
 gan, and the general continued his frugal repast under 
 his open tent. 
 
 Between his camp and that of the enemy stood an old 
 abbe}^, of which, at the present day, there only remain 
 some ruins, but which then was in good condition, and 
 was called Newcastle Abbey. It w^as built upon a vast 
 site, independent at once of the plain and of the river, 
 because it was almost a marsh fed by springs and kept 
 up by rains. Nevertheless, in the midst of these strips 
 of water, covered with long grass, rushes, and reeds, w^ere 
 seen elevated solid spots of ground, consecrated formerly 
 to the kitchen-garden, the park, the pleasure-gardens, and 
 other dependencies of the abbey, — like one of those great 
 sea-spiders, whose body is round, while the claws radiate 
 from this circumference. The kitchen-garden, one of 
 the longest claws of the abbey, extended to the camp of 
 Monk. Unfortunately it w^as, as w^e have said, early in 
 June ; and the 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 the other side of 
 the abbey. But between these fires and the abbey ex- 
 tended the Tweed, unfolding its luminous scales beneath 
 the thick shade of tall green oaks. Monk was perfectly 
 
HISTORICAL. 
 
 225 
 
 well acqnainted with this position, — Newcastle and its 
 environs having already more than once been his head- 
 quarters. He knew that by day his enemy might with- 
 out doubt throw a few scouts into these ruins and 
 provoke a skirmish, but that by night he would take 
 care to abstain from such a risk. He felt himself, there- 
 fore, in security. Thus his soldiers saw him, after what 
 he boastingly called his supper, — that is to say, after 
 the exercise of mastication already reported by us, — 
 like Napoleon on the eve of Austerlitz, sleeping seated 
 in his rush chair, half beneath the light of his lamp, 
 half beneath the reflection of the moon, which was be- 
 ginning its ascent into the heavens. This means that 
 it was nearly half-past nine in the evening. All at 
 once Monk was roused from his half-sleep, factitious 
 perhaps, by a troop of soldiers, who came with joyous 
 cries, and kicked the poles of his tent, making, a con- 
 fusion of noises 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 some supper.'* 
 
 " I have had my supper, gentlemen," replied he, quietly, 
 " and was comfortably digesting it, as you see. But come 
 in, and tell me what brings you hither." 
 Good news. General." 
 
 " Bah ! Has Lambert sent us word that he will fight 
 to-morrow " 
 
 No ; but w^e have just captured a fishing-boat con- 
 T,^ eying fish to Newcastle." 
 
 " And you have done very wrong, my friends. These 
 gentlemen from London are delicate, they are engaged in 
 
 VOL. I. — 15 
 
226 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 their first service; 3^ou will put them sadly out of humor 
 this evening, and to-morrow they will be pitiless. It 
 would really be in good taste to send back to Lambert 
 both his fish and his fishermen, unless — " and the 
 general reflected an instant. 
 
 " Tell me," continued he, what are these fishermen, 
 if you please 1 " 
 
 Some Picard seamen w^ho were fishing on the coasts 
 of France or Holland, and who have been throwm upon 
 ours by a gale of wind." 
 
 "Do any among them speak our language 1" 
 
 " The leader spoke some few words of English." 
 
 The mistrust of the general was awakened in propor- 
 tion to the information given him. "That is well," said 
 he, "I w^ish to see these men ; bring them to me." 
 
 An officer immediately w^ent to fetch them. 
 
 " How many are there of them ? " continued Monk ; 
 " and what is their vessel 1 " 
 
 " There are ten or tw^elve of them, General, and they 
 were aboard a kind of lugger, as they call it, — Dutcli- 
 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 the fishermen 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 a close-fitting coat 
 of coarse w^ool, and a cap pulled down over his eyes ; a 
 cutlass hung from his belt, and he walked with the hesi- 
 tation peculiar to sailors, w^ho, never knowing, thanks to 
 the movement of the vessel, w^hether their foot will be 
 
HISTORICAL. 
 
 227 
 
 placed upon the plank or upon nothing, give to every one 
 of their steps a fall as firm as if they were driving a pile. 
 Monk, with an acute and penetrating look, examined the 
 fisherman for some time, while the latter smiled, with 
 that smile, half cunning, half silly, peculiar to French 
 peasants. 
 
 ''Do you speak English 1 " asked Monk, in excellent 
 French. 
 
 ''Ah ! but badly, my Lord,'* replied the fisherman. 
 
 This reply was made with the lively and sharp accent- 
 uation of the people beyond the Loire, rather than with 
 the slightly drawling accent of the countries on the west 
 and north of France. 
 
 " But you do speak it '? " persisted Monk, in order to 
 examine this accent once more. 
 
 " Eti ! we men of the sea," replied the fisherman, 
 speak a little of all languages." 
 
 " Then you are a sea-fisherman'? " 
 
 " I am at present, my Lord, — a fisherman, and a famous 
 fisherman too. I have taken a barbel that weighs at least 
 thirty pounds, and more than fifty mullets ; I have also 
 some little whitings that will fry beautifully." 
 
 " You appear to me to have fished more frequently in 
 the Gulf of Gascony than in the Channel," said Monk, 
 smiling. 
 
 ^' Well, I am from the south ; but does that prevent 
 me from being a good fisherman, my Lord 1 " 
 
 " Oh ! not at all ; I will buy your fish. And now 
 speak frankly: for whom did you destine themi" 
 
 " My Lord, I will conceal nothing from you. I was 
 going to I^ewTastle, following the coast, when a party of 
 horsemen who were passing along in an opposite direc- 
 tion made a sign to my bark to turn back to your 
 Honor's camp, under penalty of a discharge of musketry* 
 
228 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 As I was not armed for fighting/' added the fisherman, 
 smiling, I was forced to submit." 
 
 And why did you go to Lambert's camp in preference 
 to mine 1 " 
 
 *'My Lord, I will be frank; will your Lordship permit 
 meV 
 
 Yes, and even, if there be occasion, shall command 
 you to be so." 
 
 Well, my Lord, I was going to M. Lambert's camp 
 because those gentlemen from the city pay well ; while 
 your Scotchmen, Puritans, Presbyterians, Covenanters, or 
 whatever you choose to call them, eat but little, and pay 
 for nothing." 
 
 Monk shrugged his shoulders, without, however, being 
 able to refrain from smiling at the same time. " How is 
 it that, being from the south, you come to fish on our 
 coasts 1 " 
 
 " 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 the rest, and drive the boat where they 
 
 please." 
 
 You had, then, no intention of landing on our coasts 1 " 
 Never." 
 
 And what route were you steering 1'* 
 
 We w^ere returning from Ostend, where some mack- 
 erel have been seen already, 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 haul of fish, which was 
 large, to go and sell them at the nearest English port, 
 and that was Newcastle. We were told the opportunity 
 was good, as there was an increase of population in the 
 camp, an increase of population in the city; both we 
 
HISTORICAL. 
 
 229 
 
 were told were full of gentlemen, very rich and very 
 hungry. So we steered our course towards Newcastle." 
 
 " And your companions, where are they 1 " 
 Oh ! my companions have remained on board ; they 
 are sailors without the least education." 
 
 ''While you — " said Monk. 
 
 "Oh! I," said the patron, laughing, — "I have sailed 
 about with my father; and I know what a sou, a crown, 
 a pistole, a louis, and a double-louis is called 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 an 
 admiral." 
 
 Then it was you who preferred M. Lambert as the 
 best customer V 
 
 '•Yes, certainly. And, to be frank, my Lord, was I 
 wrong 1 
 
 " You will see that by and by." 
 
 " At all events, my Lord, if there is a fault, the fault is 
 mine ; and my comrades 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 the fisherman, "You come from Ostend, did 
 you not say 1 " asked the general. 
 
 " Yes, my Lord, straight as a line." 
 
 " You have then heard some mention of the affairs of 
 the day ; for I have no doubt that both in France and 
 Holland they excite interest. What is he doing who calls 
 himself King of England 1 " 
 
 " Oh, my Lord ! " cried the fisherman, with loud and 
 expansive frankness, " that is a lucky question, and you 
 could not put it to anybody better than to me, for in 
 truth I can make you a famous reply. Imagiue, my Lord, 
 that when putting into Ostend, to sell the few mackerel 
 
230 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 we had caught, I saw the ex-king walking on the dunes, 
 waiting for his horses which were to take him to the 
 Hague. He is a rather tall, pale man, with black hair, 
 and somewhat hard-featured. He looks ill, and I don't 
 think the air of Holland agrees with him." 
 
 Monk followed with the greatest attention the rapid, 
 heightened, and diffuse conversation of the fisherman, in 
 a language which was not his own, but which, as we have 
 said, he spoke with great facility. The fisherman, on his 
 part, employed sometimes a French word, sometimes an 
 English word, and sometimes a word which appeared not 
 to belong to any language, but was, in truth, pure Gascon. 
 Fortunately his eyes spoke for him, and that so eloquently, 
 that it was possible to lose a word from his mouth, but 
 not a single intention from his eyes. The general appeared 
 more and more satisfied with his examination. "You 
 must have heard that this ex-king, as you call him, was 
 going to the Hague for some purpose 1 " 
 
 Oh yes, certainly," said the fisherman, " I heard that." 
 
 " And what was his purpose 1 " 
 
 " Always the same," said the fisherman. " Must he not 
 always entertain the fixed idea of returning to England li " 
 
 '^That is true," said Monk, pensively. 
 Without reckoning," added the fisherman, ''that the 
 stadtholder — you know, my Lord, William 11.'? — 
 
 " Well 1 " 
 
 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 the air — that is to say, the two 
 most mobile things in the world — are seldom deceived, 
 as to the rest." 
 
HISTORICAL. 
 
 231 
 
 ^^'NoWf then," said Monk, changing the conversation, 
 I am told you are going to provision us.'* 
 
 I will 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, ray Lord." 
 
 Why not r' 
 
 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 to their full value — " 
 " My Lord, I do not ask it." 
 " What do you ask, then ^ " 
 
 I only ask to be permitted to go aw^ay." 
 " Where 1 — to General Lambert's camp " 
 " I ! " cried the fisherman ; " what should I go to New- 
 castle for, now^ I have no longer any fish 1 " 
 *^At all events, listen to me." 
 
 I do, my Lord." 
 ^' I will give you counsel." 
 How, my Lord 1 — pay me and give me good counsel 
 likewise 1 You overwhelm me, my Lord." 
 
 Monk looked more earnestly than ever at the fisherman, 
 of w^hom he still appeared to entertain some suspicion. 
 "Yes, I will pay you, and give you a piece of advice; 
 for the two things are connected. If you return, then, to 
 General Lambert — " 
 
 The fisherman made a movement of his head and 
 shoulders, which signified, ''If he persist in it, I won't 
 contradict him." 
 
 " Do not cross the marsh," continued Monk ; ''you will 
 have money in your pocket, and there are in the marsh 
 some Scotch ambuscaders I have placed there. Those 
 
232 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 people are very intractable ; they understand but very 
 little of the language which you speak, although it ap- 
 pears to me to be composed of three languages. They 
 might take from you what I had given you, and on your 
 return to your country you would not fail to say that 
 General 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 the English hand." 
 
 " Ohj General^ I will go where you like, be sure of 
 that," said the fisherman, with a fear too expressive not 
 to be exaggerated. I only wish to remain here, if you 
 will allow me to remain." 
 
 " I readily believe you," said Monk, with an impercep- 
 tible smile, " but I cannot, nevertheless, keep you in my 
 tent." 
 
 " I have no such wish, my Lord, and desire only that 
 your Lordship should point out where you will have me 
 posted. Do not trouble yourself about us, — with us 
 a night soon passes away." 
 
 " You shall be conducted to your boat.'* 
 
 "As your Lordship pleases. Only, if your Lordship 
 would allow me to be taken back by a carpenter, I should 
 be extremely grateful." 
 
 " Why so 1 " 
 
 Because the gentlemen of your army, in dragging 
 my boat up the river with a cable pulled by their horses, 
 have battered it a little upon the rocks of the shore, so 
 that I have at least tw^o feet of water in my hold, my 
 Lord." 
 
 ^' The greater reason why you should w^atch your boat, 
 I think." 
 
 " My Lord, I am quite at your orders," said the fisher- 
 man. I will empty my baskets where you .wish ; then 
 you will pay me, if you please to do so ; and you will 
 
HISTORICAL. 
 
 233 
 
 send me away, if it appears right to you. You see I aiji 
 very easily managed, my Lord." 
 
 " Come, come, you are a very good sort of a fellow," 
 said Monk, whose scrutinizing glance had not been able 
 to find a single shade in the limpid eye of the fisherman. 
 "Holloa, Digby ! " An aide-de-carnp appeared. *'You 
 will conduct this good fellow^ and his companions to the 
 little tents of the canteens, in front of the marshes, so 
 that they will be near their bark, and yet not sleep on 
 board to-night. What is the matter, Spithead'?" 
 
 Spithead w^as the sergeant from whom Monk had bor- 
 rowed a piece of tobacco for his supper. Spithead having 
 entered the general's tent without being sent for, had 
 drawn this question from Monk. 
 
 " My Lord," said he, ^' a French gentleman has just 
 presented himself at the outposts, and asks to speak to 
 your Honor.'' 
 
 All this was said, be it understood, in English ; but, 
 notwithstanding, it produced a slight emotion on the 
 fisherman, which Monk, occupied with his sergeant, did 
 not remark. 
 
 " Who is the gentleman asked Monk. 
 
 " My Lord," replied Spithead, " he told it me ; but those 
 devils of French names are so difficult to be pronounced 
 by a Scotch throat, that I could not retain it. I believe, 
 however, from what the guards say, that it is the same 
 gentleman who presented himself yesterday at the halt, 
 and whom your Honor would not receive." 
 
 ^^That is true ; I was holding a council of officers." 
 
 " Will your Honor give any orders respecting this 
 gentleman 1 " 
 
 '^Yes, let him be brought here." 
 
 " Must we take any precautions ^ " 
 
 " Such as whatr' 
 
234 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 "Binding his eyes, for instance.'^ 
 
 " To what purpose 1 He can only see what I desire 
 should be seen ; that is to say, that I have around me 
 eleven thousand brave men, who ask no better than to 
 have their throats cut in honor of the Parliament of 
 Scotland and England." 
 
 ''And this man, my Lord 1" said Spithead, pointing 
 to the fisherman, who during this conversation had 
 remained standing and motionless, like a man who sees 
 but does not understand. 
 
 '' Ah ! that is true," said Monk. Then turning towards 
 the fisherman, '' I shall see you again, my brave fellow/' 
 said he ; "I have chosen you a lodging. Digby, take him 
 to it. Fear nothing ; your money shall be sent to you 
 presently." 
 
 " Thank you, my Lord," said the fisherman ; and after 
 having bowed, he left the tent, accompanied by Digby. 
 Before he had gone a hundred paces he found his com- 
 panions, who were chattering with a volubility which did 
 not seem exempt from inquietude ; but he made them 
 a sign which seemed to reassure them. " Holloa, you 
 fellows!" said the master, "come this way. His Lord- 
 ship, 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, con- 
 ducted by Digby, the little troop proceeded towards the 
 canteens, — the post, as may be remembered, which had 
 been assigned them. As they w^ent along in the dark, 
 the fishermen passed close to the guards who were con- 
 ducting the French gentleman to General Monk. This 
 gentleman was on horseback and enveloped in a large 
 cloak, which prevented the master from seeing him, how- 
 ever great his curiosity might be. As to the gentleman. 
 
HISTORICAL. 
 
 235 
 
 ignorant that he was elbowing compatriots, he did not 
 pay any attention to the Httle troop. 
 
 Tlie aide-de-camp installed his guests in a tolerably 
 comfortable tent, from which w^as dislodged an Irish 
 canteen-woman, who went, with her six children, to sleep 
 where she could. A large fire was burning in front of 
 this tent, and threw its purple light over the grassy pools 
 of the marsh, rippled by a fresh breeze. The installation 
 made, the aide-de-camp wished the fishermen good-night, 
 calling to their notice that they might see from the door 
 of the tent the masts of their boat, which was tossing 
 gently on the Tweed, — a proof that it had not yet sunk. 
 The sight of this appeared to delight the leader of the 
 tishermen infinitely. 
 
23fi THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE TREASURE. 
 
 The French gentleman whom Spithead had announced 
 to Monk, and who had passed, so closely wrapped in his 
 cloak, by the fisherman who left the general's tent five 
 minutes before he entered it, — the French gCTitleman 
 passed through the various posts without even casting 
 his eyes around him, for fear of appearing indiscreet. As 
 the order had been given, he was conducted to the tent 
 of the general. The gentleman was left alone in the sort 
 of antechamber in front of the principal body of the tent, 
 where he awaited Monk, who only delayed till he had 
 heard the report of his people, and observed through the 
 opening in the canvas the countenance of the person who 
 solicited an audience. Without doubt the report of those 
 who had accompanied the French gentleman emphasized 
 the discretion with which he had conducted himself ; for 
 the first impression the stranger received of the welcome 
 made him by the general was more favorable than he 
 could have expected at such a moment, and on the part 
 of so suspicious a man. Nevertheless, according to his 
 custom when he found himself in the presence of a 
 stranger. Monk fixed upon him his penetrating eyes, 
 which scrutiny the stranger, on his part, sustained 
 without embarrassment or notice. At the end of a few 
 seconds the general made a gesture with his hand and 
 head in sign of attention. 
 
THE TREASURE. 
 
 237 
 
 My Lord," said the gentlemaD, in excellent Etiglisb, 
 " I have requested an interview with your Honor, for an 
 affair of importance." 
 
 Monsieur," replied Monk, in French, ^' you speak our 
 language w^ell for a son of the Continent. I ask your 
 pardon, — for doubtless the question is indiscreet, — 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 have made two voyages to 
 this country." These words were spoken in French, and 
 with a purity of accent that bespoke not only a French- 
 man, but a Frenchman from the environs 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 trip to Scotland ; and lastly, in 1648, 
 I lived for some time at JN'ewcastle, particularly in the 
 convent, the gardens of which are now occupied by your 
 army." 
 
 Excuse me. Monsieur ; but you must comprehend 
 that these questions are necessary on my part, do you 
 not 1 " 
 
 It would astonish me, my Lord, if they were not 
 made." 
 
 Now, then. Monsieur, what can I do to serve you 1 
 What do you desire of me 1 " 
 
 This, my Lord, — but in the first place, are we 
 alone r' 
 
 Perfectly so. Monsieur, except^ of course, the post 
 which guards us." So saying, Monk pulled open the 
 canvas with his hand, and pointed to the soldier who was 
 placed at ten paces from the tent, and who at the first 
 call could have rendered assistance in a second. 
 
238 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 In that case, my Lord," said the gentleman, ii;^ as 
 caUii a tone as if he had been for a length of time in 
 habits of intimacy with his interlocutor, " I have made 
 up my mind to address myself to yon, because I believe 
 you to be an honest man. Indeed, the communication 
 I am about to make to you will prove to you the esteem 
 in which I hold you." 
 
 Monk, astonished at this language, which established 
 between him and the French gentleman equality at least, 
 raised his piercing eye to the stranger's face, and with 
 a sensible irony conveyed by the inflection of 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 honor of speaking 1 " 
 
 " 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 ever heard that name. 
 Do you fill any post at the court of France 1 " 
 
 " None ; I am a simple gentleman." 
 
 " What dignity 1 " 
 King Charles 1. made me a knight of the Garter, and 
 Queen Anne of Austria has given me the cordon of the 
 Holy Ghost. These are my onl}^ dignities." 
 
 " The Garter ! the Holy Ghost ! Are you a knight of 
 those two orders, Monsieur 1 " 
 Yes." 
 
 " And on what occasions have such favors been bestowed 
 upon you 1 " 
 
 For services rendered to their Majesties." 
 
THE TREASURE. 
 
 239 
 
 Monk looked with astonishment at this man, who ap- 
 peared to him so simple and at the same time so grand. 
 Then, as if he had renounced endeavoring to penetrate 
 this mystery of a simplicity and grandeur upon which the 
 stranger did not seem disposed to give him any other in- 
 formation than that which he had already received, — 
 " It was you," he said, who presented yourself yesterday 
 at our advanced posts'?" 
 
 And was sent back, — yes, my Lord." 
 
 ^' Many officers. Monsieur, would not permit anybody 
 to enter their camp, particularly on the eve of a probable 
 battle. But I differ from my colleagues, and like to leave 
 nothing behind me. Every piece of intelligence is good 
 to me : all danger is sent to me by God, and I weigh it 
 in my hand with the energy he has given me. So, 
 yesterday, you were sent back because I was holding 
 a council. To-day I am at liberty, — speak." 
 
 " My Lord, you have done the better in receiving me, 
 since what I have to say has nothing to do with the battle 
 you are about to fight with General Lambert, or with 
 your camp ; and the proof is, that I turned away my 
 head that 1 might not see your men, and closed my eyes 
 that I might not count your tents. No, I come to speak 
 to you, my Lord, on my own account." 
 
 " Speak, then. Monsieur," said Monk. 
 
 ''Just now," continued Athos, "I had the honor of 
 telling your Lordship that I for a long time lived in 
 Newcastle ; it was in the time of Charles L, and when 
 the late king was given up to Cromwell by the Scots." 
 I know," said Monk, coldly. 
 
 '' I had at that time a large sura in gold, and on the 
 eve of the battle, from a presentiment, perhaps, of the 
 turn which things would take on the morrow, I concealed 
 it in the principal vault of the convent of Newcastle, in 
 
240 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 the tower the sammit of which you may see from here 
 silvered by the moon. My treasure has, then, remained 
 interred there, and I have come to entreat your Honor to 
 permit me to withdraw it before, perhaps, the battle 
 turning that way, a mine or some other enterprise of 
 war may destroy the building and scatter my gold, or 
 render it so exposed to view that the soldiers will take 
 possession of it." 
 
 Monk was well acquainted with mankind ; he saw in 
 the physiognomy of this gentleman all the energy, all the 
 reason, all the circumspection possible ; he could there- 
 fore only attribute to a magnanimous confidence the 
 revelation the Frenchman had made him, and he showed 
 himself profoundly touched by it. 
 
 Monsieur," said he, "you have augured justly by me. 
 But is the sum worth the trouble to which you expose 
 yourself? Do you even believe that it can be in the 
 place where you left it ? " 
 
 " It is there, Monsieur, I do not doubt." 
 
 " That is a reply to one question; hv.t to the other. 
 I asked you if the sum were so large as to lead you to 
 expose yourself thus." 
 
 "It is really large ; yes, my Lord, for it is a million I 
 enclosed in two casks." 
 
 " A million ! " cried Monk, w^hom this time, in his turn, 
 Athos looked at earnestly and long. Monk perceived 
 this, and his mistrust returned. 
 
 " Here is a man," thought he, " who is laying a snare for 
 me. — So you wish to withdraw this money, Monsieur," 
 replied he, "as I understand'?" 
 
 " If you please, my Lord." 
 
 " To-day 1 " 
 
 " This very evening, and that on account of the circum- 
 stances I have named." 
 
THE TREASURE. 
 
 241 
 
 "Bat. Monsieur," objected Monk, ^'General Lambert 
 is as near the abbey where you have to act as I am. 
 Why, then, have you not addressed yourself to him?" 
 
 " Because, my Lord, when one acts in important matters, 
 it is best to consult one's instinct before everything. 
 Well, General Lambert does not inspire me with so much 
 confidence as you do.'' 
 
 Be it so, Monsieur. I will assist you in recovering 
 your money, if indeed it can still be there ; for that is 
 far from likely. Since 1648 twelve years have rolled 
 away, and many events have taken place." Monk dwelt 
 upon this point, to see if the French gentleman would 
 seize the evasions that were open to him ; but Athos was 
 inflexible. 
 
 I assure you, my Lord," he said firmly, that my con- 
 viction is that the two casks have changed neither place 
 nor master." 
 
 This reply removed one suspicion from the mind of 
 Monk, but it suggested another. Without doubt this 
 Frenchman was some emissary sent to entice into error 
 the protector of the Parliament ; the gold w^as nothing but 
 a lure, and by the help of this they thought to excite the 
 cupidity of the general. This gold might not exist. It 
 was Monk's business, then, to seize in the fact of false- 
 hood and trick the French gentleman, and to draw^ from 
 the false step itself in which his enemies wished to entrap 
 him, a triumph for his renown. When Monk was deter- 
 mined how to act, — 
 
 Monsieur," said he to Athos, will you do me the 
 honor to share my supper this evening?" 
 
 ''Yes, my Lord," replied Athos, bowing; ''for you do 
 me an honor of which I feel mj^self worthy, by the incli- 
 nation which drew me towards you." 
 
 "It is the more gracious on your part to accept my 
 
 VOL. I.— 16 
 
242 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 invitatiou with such frankness, because my cooks are but 
 few and inexpert, and my providers have returned this 
 evening empty-handed ; so that if it had not been for a 
 fisherman of your nation who straj^ed into our camp, 
 General Monk w^ould have gone to bed without his supper 
 to-day. I have then some fresh fish to offer you, as the 
 vender assures me." 
 
 My Lord, it is principally for the sake of having the 
 honor to pass an hour more with you." 
 
 After this exchange of civilities, during which Monk 
 had lost nothing of his circumspection, the supper, or 
 that which was to serve for one, had been laid upon a 
 pine table. Monk made a sign to the Comte de la Fere 
 to be seated at this table, and took his place opposite to 
 him. A single dish filled with boiled fish, set before the 
 two illustrious guests, promised more to hungry stomachs 
 than to delicate palates. While supping,- — -that is, while 
 eating the fish, washed down with bad ale, • — • Monk got 
 Athos to recount to him the last events of the Fronde, 
 the reconciliation of M. de Conde with the king, and the 
 probable marriage of the king with the Infanta of Spain ; 
 but he avoided, as Athos himself avoided, all allusion to 
 the political interests wdiich united, or rather which dis- 
 united at this time, England, France, and Holland. 
 Monk in this conversation convinced himself of one 
 things which he must have remarked at the first words 
 exchanged, — that was, that he had to do with a man of 
 high distinction. Such a man could not be an assassin, 
 and it was repugnant to Monk to believe him to be a 
 spy ; but there was sufficient subtlety as well as firmness 
 in Athos to lead IMonk to fancy that he was a conspirator. 
 When they had quitted table, — 
 
 ^'You still believe in your treasure, then, Monsieur'?" 
 asked Monk. 
 
THE TREASURE. 
 
 243 
 
 ^'Yes, my Lord." 
 
 Seriously.'^ 
 " Quite seriously.^' 
 
 And you think you can find again the place where it 
 was buried 1 " 
 
 " At the first inspection." 
 
 " Well, Monsieur, from curiosity I will accompany you. 
 And it is the more necessary that I should do so, since 
 you would find great difficulty in passing through the 
 camp without me or one of my lieutenants." 
 
 ^' General, I would not sufl'er you to inconvenience 
 yourself if I did not, in fact, stand in need of your com- 
 pany ; but as I recognize that this company is not only 
 honorable, but necessary, I accept it." 
 
 Do you desire that we should take any people with 
 us 1 " asked Monk. 
 
 General, I believe that would be useless, if you your- 
 self do not see the necessity for it. Two men and a horse 
 will sufiftce to transport two casks on board the felucca 
 which brought me hither." 
 
 But it will be necessary to pick, dig, and remove the 
 earth, and split stones ; you don't reckon upon doing this 
 work yourself. Monsieur, do you ^ " 
 
 "General, there is no picking or digging required. 
 The treasure is buried in the sepulchral vault of the con- 
 vent, under a stone in which is fixed a large iron ring, 
 and under that a little stair of four steps opens. The 
 two casks are there, placed end to end, covered with a 
 coat of plaster in the form of a bier. There is, besides, an 
 inscription, which will enable me to recognize the stone ; 
 and as I am not willing, in an afiair of delicacy and con- 
 fidence, to keep the secret from your Honor, here is the 
 inscription : ^ Hie jacet venerabilis, Petrus Guilielmus 
 Scott, Canon Honorab. Conventus Novi Castelli. Obiit 
 
244 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 quarta et decima die Feb. ann. Dcm. MCCVIII. Requi- 
 escat in pace.' " 
 
 Monk did not lose a single word. He was astonished 
 either at the marvellous duplicity of this man and the 
 superior style in which he played his part, or at the good 
 loyal faith with which he presented his request, in a situ- 
 ation in which was concerned a million of money, risked 
 against the stab of a poniard, amid an army that would 
 have considered the theft as a restitution. That is 
 well," said he ; "I will accompany you ; and the adven- 
 ture appears to me so wonderful that I will carry the 
 flambeau myself." And saying these words, he girded on 
 a short sword, placed a pistol in his belt, disclosing in 
 this movement, which opened his doublet a little, the 
 fine rings of a coat of mail, designed to protect him 
 against the first poniard stroke of an assassin. After 
 which he took a Scotch dirk in his left hand, and then 
 turning to Athos, Are you ready, Monsieur '? " said he. 
 
 "I am." 
 
 Athos, in contrast to what Monk had done, unfastened 
 his poniard, which he placed upon the table ; unhooked 
 his sword-belt, which he laid close to his poniard ; and 
 without affectation, opening his doublet as if to seek 
 his handkerchief, showed beneath his fine cambric shirt 
 his naked breast, without arms, either off*ensive or 
 defensive. 
 
 '^This is truly a singular man," said Monk; ^'he is 
 without any arms ; he has an ambuscade placed some- 
 where yonder." 
 
 ''General," said he, as if he had divined Monk's thought, 
 *'you wish we should be alone. That is right, but a great 
 captain ought never to expose himself with temerity. It 
 is night, the passage of the marsh may present dangers ; 
 take others with you." 
 
THE TREASURE. 
 
 245 
 
 *^Yoii are right," replied he, calling Digbj. The aide- 
 de-camp appeared. Fifty men with swords and mus- 
 kets," 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. ^' Digby, I want nobody. 
 Come, Monsieur." 
 
246 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE MARCH. 
 
 Athos and Monk traversed, in going from the camp 
 towards the Tweed, that part of the ground which Digbj 
 had traversed with the fisherman coming from the Tweed 
 to the camp. The aspect of this place, and the changes 
 man had wrought in it, were of a nature to produce a 
 great effect upon a lively and delicate imagination like 
 that of Athos. Athos looked at nothing but these deso- 
 late spots ; Monk looked at nothing but Athos, — 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 accent with which he had given them, 
 had at first a little excited, — Digby followed the night- 
 walkers about twenty paces ; but the general having 
 turned round as if astonished to find that his orders had 
 not been obeyed, the aide-de-camp perceived his indiscre- 
 tion, and returned to his tent. He supposed that the 
 general wished to make, incognito, one of those vigilant 
 inspections which every experienced captain invariably 
 makes on the eve of a decisive engagement ; he ex- 
 plained to himself the presence of Athos in this case as 
 an inferior explains all that is mysterious on the part of 
 his leader. Athos might be^ and indeed in the eyes of 
 Digby must be, a spy, whose information was to enlighten 
 the general. 
 
THE MARCH. 
 
 247 
 
 At the end of a walk of about ten minutes among the 
 tents and the posts, which were closer together near the 
 headquarters, Monk entered upon a little causeway w^hich 
 diverged into three branches. That on the left led to 
 the river ; that in the middle to Newcastle Abbey on the 
 marsh ; that on the right crossed the first lines of Monk's 
 camp, — that is to say, the lines nearest to Lambert's 
 ^ army. Beyond the river was an advanced post, belong- 
 ing to Monk's army, which watched the enemy ; it was 
 composed of one hundred and fifty Scots. They had 
 swam across the Tweed, giving the alarm ; but as there 
 was no bridge at that spot, and as Lambert's soldiers 
 were not so prompt at taking to the w\ater as Monk's 
 were, the latter appeared not to have much uneasiness 
 on that side. On this side of the river, at about five 
 hundred paces from the old abbey, the fishermen had 
 taken up their abode amid a crowd of small tents raised 
 by the soldiers of the neighboring clans, who had with 
 them their wives and children. All this confusion, seen 
 by the moon's light, presented a striking appearance ; 
 the half-shade enlarged every detail ; and the light — that 
 flatterer which only attaches itself to the polished side of 
 things — courted upon each rusty musket the point still 
 left unspotted, and upon every rag of canvas the whitest 
 and least sullied part. Monk arrived, then, with Athos, 
 crossing this spot illumined by a double light, the silver 
 splendor of the moon and the red blaze of the fires, at 
 the meeting of the three- causeways ; there he stopped, 
 and addressing his companion, ^'Monsieur," said he, "do 
 you know your road 1 " 
 
 " General, if I am not mistaken, the middle causeway 
 leads straight to the abbey." 
 
 " That is right ; but we shall want lights to guide us 
 in the vaults." Monk turned round. 
 
248 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Ah ! Digby has followed us, it appears/' said he. " So 
 much the better; he will procure us wiiat we want." 
 
 " Yes, General, there is a man yonder who for some 
 time has been walking behind us." 
 
 "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, bent down 
 and disappeared along the jetty on the left, directing its 
 course towards the lodging of the fishermen. 
 
 " It appears that it was not Digby," said Monk. 
 
 Both had followed the shadow which had vanished. 
 But it was not so rare a thing for a man to be wandering 
 about at eleven- o'clock at night, in a camp in which are 
 reposing ten or eleven thousand men, as to give Monk 
 and Athos any alarm at that sudden disappearance. 
 
 " And now," said Monk, " since we must have a light^ 
 a lantern, a torch, something by which we may see where 
 to set our feet, let us seek this light." 
 
 " General, the first soldier we meet will light us." 
 
 " 1^0," said Monk, in order to discover if there were 
 not any connivance between the Comte de la Fere and 
 the fishermen, — " no, I should prefer one of these French 
 sailors who came this evening to sell me their fish. They 
 will leave to-morrow, and the secret will be better kept 
 by them ; whereas, if a report should be spread in the 
 Scotch army that treasures are to be found in the Abbey 
 of Newcastle, my Highlanders will believe there is a 
 million concealed beneath every slab ; and they will not 
 leave one stone upon another in the building." 
 
 " Do as you think best, General," replied Athos, in so 
 natural a tone of voice as made it evident that soldier or 
 fisherman was the same to him, and that he had no 
 preference. 
 
THE MARCH. 
 
 249 
 
 Monk approached the causeway behind which had dis- 
 appeared the person he had taken for Digby, and met 
 a i^atrol who, making the tour of the tents, was going 
 towards headquarters ; he was stopped w^th his com- 
 panion, gave the password, and w^ent on. A soldier, 
 roused by the noise, unrolled his plaid, and looked up 
 to see what was going forward. " Ask him," said Monk 
 to Athos, where the fishermen are ; if I were to speak to 
 him, he would know 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 general that at the moment they came 
 up, a shadow, like that they had already seen, glided into 
 this tent ; but on drawing nearer, he perceived that he 
 must have been mistaken, for all of them were asleep, ly- 
 ing confusedly, and nothing was seen but arms and legs 
 interlaced. Athos, fearing he should be suspected of 
 connivance with some one of his compatriots, remained 
 outside the tent. 
 
 Holloa ! " said Monk, in .French, wake up here!" 
 Two or three of the sleepers got up. I want a man to 
 light me," continued Monk. 
 
 All made a movement, — some half-rising, the rest 
 standing up. The leader was the first to rise. 
 
 Your Honor may depend upon us," said a voice which 
 made Athos start. Where do you wish us to goV 
 
 " You shall see. A light ! Come quickly ! " 
 
 " Yes, your Honor. Does it please your Honor that I 
 should accompany you 1 " 
 
 "You or another, — it is of very little consequence, 
 provided I have a light." 
 
 " It is strange ! " thought Athos ; what a singular voice 
 that fisherman has 1 " 
 
 *' Some fire, you sirs 1 " cried the fisherman ; " come, 
 
250 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 make haste ! " Then addressing in a low voice his com- 
 panion nearest to him, " Get a light, 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 lighted a 
 lantern. The light immediately spread all over the tent. 
 
 "Are you ready, Monsieur]" said Monk to Athos, 
 who had turned away, not to expose his face to the light. 
 
 " Yes, General," replied he. 
 
 " Ah ! the French gentleman ! ^' said the leader of the 
 fishermen to himself. " Peste I T have a great mind to 
 charge you with the commission, Menneville ; he may 
 know me. Light ! light ! " This dialogue was pro- 
 nounced at the back of the tent, and in so low a voice 
 that Monk could not hear a syllable of it ; he was, besides, 
 talking with Athos. Menneville got himself ready in the 
 mean time, or rather received the orders of his leader. 
 
 "Welir' 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 my head 1 " 
 
 "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 had appeared to enter the tent came 
 out of it again, crawled along as far as the piles, and, 
 protected by that sort of parapet placed along the cause- 
 way, carefully observed the march of the general. All 
 three disappeared in the night haze. They were walking 
 towards Newcastle, the white stones of which they could 
 already see, appearing like tombstones. After standing 
 for a few seconds under the porch, they penetrated into 
 the interior. The door had been broken open by hatchets. 
 
THE MARCH. 
 
 251 
 
 A post of four men slept in safety in a corner ; so certain 
 were they that the attack would not take place on that 
 side. 
 
 "Will not these men be in your wayV said Monk to 
 Athos. 
 
 " On the contrary, Monsieur, they will assist in rolling 
 out the casks, if your Honor will permit them." 
 " You are right." 
 
 The post, although fast asleep, roused up at the first 
 steps of the three visitors among the briers and grass that 
 had invaded the porch. Monk gave the password, and 
 penetrated into the interior of the convent, preceded by 
 the light. He walked last, watching even the least move- 
 ment of Athos, his naked dirk in his sleeve, and ready to 
 plunge it into the back of the gentleman at the first sus- 
 picious gesture he should see him make. But Athos, 
 with a firm and sure step, traversed the chambers and 
 courts. ^N'ot a door, not a window, was left in this build- 
 ing. The doors had been burnt, some upon the spot, 
 and the charcoal of them w^as still jagged with the action 
 of the fire, which had gone out of itself, powerless, no 
 doubt, to get to the heart of those massive joints of oak 
 fastened together by iron nails. As to the windows, all 
 the panes having been broken, birds of darkness, alarmed 
 by the torch, flew away through the holes of them. At 
 the same time gigantic bats began to trace their vast, 
 silent circles around the intruders, while their shadows 
 appeared trembling upon the lofty stone-walls in the light 
 projected by the torch. That spectacle was reassuring to 
 men of reasoning minds. Monk concluded there could 
 be no man in the convent, since wild creatures were there, 
 who flew away at his approach. After having passed the 
 rubbish, and torn away more than one branch of ivy that 
 had made itself a guardian for the solitude, Athos arrived 
 
252 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 at the vaults situated beneath the great hall, but entered 
 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 
 flatwise on the stone." 
 
 " We must have a lever." 
 
 " That 's a thing very easy to find.'' 
 
 While looking round them, Athos and Monk perceived 
 a little ash of about three inches in diameter, which had 
 shot up in an angle of the wall, reaching to a window, 
 which its branches darkened. 
 
 " Have you a cutlass 1 " said Monk to the fisherman. 
 
 ^'Yes, Monsieur." 
 
 "Cut down this tree, then." 
 
 The fisherman obeyed, but not without notching his 
 cutlass. When the ash was cut and fashioned into the 
 shape of a lever, the three men penetrated into the 
 vault. 
 
 " Stop there ! " said Monk to the fisherman, pointing to 
 a corner of the cavern. ''We are going to dig up some 
 powder; your light may be dangerous." 
 
 The man drew back in a sort of terror, and faithfully 
 kept to the post assigned him, while Monk and Athos 
 turned behind a column at the foot of which, through a 
 small opening, penetrated a moonbeam, reflected exactly 
 by the stone of which the Comte de la Fere had come so 
 far in search. 
 
 " This is it," said Athos, pointing out to the general 
 the Latin inscription. 
 " Yes," said Monk. 
 
 Then, as if still w^illing to leave the Frenchman a 
 means of evasion, " Do you not observe that this vault 
 
THE MAKCH. 
 
 253 
 
 has already been broken into," continued he, and that 
 several statues have been knocked down '1 " 
 
 " My Lord, you have, without doubt, heard it said that 
 the religious devotion of your Scots loves to confide to the 
 statues of the dead the valuable objects they have pos- 
 sessed during their lives. Therefore the soldiers had 
 reason to think that under the pedestals of the statues 
 which ornament most of these tombs, a treasure was 
 hidden. They have consequently broken down pedestal 
 and statue ; but the tomb of the venerable canon, with 
 which we have to do, is not distinguished by any monu- 
 ment. It is simple ; therefore it has been protected by 
 the superstitious fear which your Puritans have always 
 had of sacrilege. Not a morsel of the masonry of this 
 tomb has been chipped off." 
 
 "That is true," said Monk. 
 
 Athos seized the lever. 
 
 " Shall I help you 1 " said Monk. 
 
 " Thank you, my Lord ; but I am not willing your 
 Honor should put your hand to a work of which, perhaps, 
 you would not take the responsibility 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 will test him." Monk turned towards the fisher- 
 man, whose profile^ illuminated by the torch, he could 
 clearly see. 
 
 Come here, friend ! " said he, in English, in a tone of 
 command. The fisherman did not stir. 
 
 "That is wxll," continued he; "he does not know 
 English. Speak to me, then, in English, if you please, 
 Monsieur." 
 
254 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 "My Lord," replied Atlios, "I have frequently seen 
 men in certain circumstances have such command over 
 themselves as not to reply to a question put to them in 
 a language they understood. The fisherman is perhaps 
 more knowing than we believe him to be. Send him 
 away, my Lord, I beg of you." 
 
 Decidedly," thought Monk, "he wishes to have me 
 alone in this vault. Never mind, we will go through with 
 it ; one man is as good as another man ; and we are alone. 
 — My friend," said Monk to the fisherman, "go back up 
 the stairs we have just descended, and watch that no- 
 body comes to disturb us." . The fisherman made a sign 
 of obedience. " Leave your torch," said Monk ; " it 
 w^ould betray your presence, and might procure you a 
 musket-ball." 
 
 The fisherman appeared to appreciate the counsel ; he 
 laid down the light, and disappeared under the vault of 
 the stairs. Monk took up the torch and brought it to 
 the foot of the column. 
 
 " Ah, ah ! " said he ; " money, then, is concealed under 
 this tomb 1 " 
 
 " Yes, my Lord ; and in five minutes you will no 
 longer doubt it." 
 
 x\t the same time Athos struck a violent blow upon 
 the plaster, which split, presenting a chink for the point 
 of the lever. Athos introduced the bar into this crack ; 
 and soon large pieces of plaster yielded, rising up like 
 rounded slabs. Then the Comte de la Fere seized the 
 stones and threw them away with a force that hands so 
 delicate as his might not have been supposed capable of. 
 
 "My Lord," said Athos, "this is plainly the masonry 
 of which I told your Honor." 
 
 "Yes ; but I do not yet see the casks," said Monk. 
 
 "If I had a poniard," said Athos, looking round him. 
 
THE MARCH. 
 
 255 
 
 ^' you should soon see them, Monsieur. Unfortunately 
 I left mine in your tent." 
 
 "I would willingly offer you mine/' said Monk, ^^but 
 the blade is too thin for such work." 
 
 Athos appeared to look around him for something that 
 might serve as a substitute for the weapon he desired. 
 Monk did not lose one of 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 had a cutlass." 
 
 Ah ! that is true," said Athos, '^for he cut the tree 
 down with it ; " and he advanced towards the stairs. 
 
 "Friend," said he to the fisherman, ''throw me down 
 your cutlass, if you please ; I want it." 
 
 The noise of the falling weapon echoed over the stones 
 of the vault. 
 
 " Take it," said Monk ; " it is a solid instrument, as 
 I have seen, and a strong hand might make good use 
 of it." 
 
 Athos appeared to give the words of Monk only the 
 natural and simple sense which most obviously belonged 
 to them. Nor did he remark, or at least appear to re- 
 mark, that when he returned with the weapon. Monk 
 drew back, placing his left hand on the stock of his 
 pistol ; in the right he already held his dirk. Athos 
 went to work then, turning his back to Monk, placing his 
 life in his hands without possible defence. He then 
 struck, for several seconds, so skilfully and sharply upon 
 the intermediary plaster, that it separated in two parts, 
 and Monk was able to discern two casks placed end to 
 end, which their weight maintained motionless in their 
 chalky envelope. 
 
 " My Lord," said Athos, " you see that my presenti- 
 ments have not been disappointed." 
 
256 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 "Yes, Monsieur," said Monk, ^^and I have good reason 
 to believe you are satisfied ; are you not ? " 
 
 Doubtless I am ; the loss of this money would have 
 been inexpressibly great to me ; but I was certain that 
 God, who protects the good cause, would not have per- 
 mitted this gold, which should procure its triumph, to be 
 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 when you said that 
 you were not willing to throw upon me the responsibility 
 of the w^ork 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 the words ' the good cause ' '? We are 
 defending at this moment, in England, five or six causes ; 
 w^hich does not prevent every one from considering his 
 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 which you appear to attach great 
 importance, we are of the same opinion." 
 
 Athos fixed upon Monk one of those penetrating looks 
 which seem to convey to him on whom they rest a chal- 
 lenge to conceal a single one of his thoughts; then, 
 taking off his hat, he began in a solemn voice, while his 
 interlocutor, with one hand upon his face, allowed that 
 long and nervous hand to compress his mustache and 
 beard, at the same time that his vague and melancholy 
 eye wandered about the recesses of the vaults. 
 
HEART AND MIND. 
 
 257 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVL 
 
 HEART AND MIND. 
 
 " My Lord," said the Comte de la Fere, " you are a noble 
 Englishman, you are a loyal man ; you are speaking to 
 a noble Frenchman, to a man of heart. This gold con- 
 tained in these two casks before us, I have told you was 
 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 Charles II., exiled from his country, 
 driven from his palaces, losing at once his father and his 
 throne, and deprived of everything, even of the melan- 
 choly happiness of kissing on his knees the stone upon 
 which the hands of his murderers have written that 
 simple epitaph which will eternally cry out for vengeance 
 upon them : ^ Here lies Charles L' " 
 [ Monk grew slightly pale, and an imperceptible shudder 
 crept over his skin and raised his gray mustache. 
 
 " I," continued Athos, — " I, Comte de la Fere, the 
 last, the only faithful friend the poor abandoned prince 
 has left, — I have offered to come hither to find the 
 man upon whom now depends the fate of royalty and 
 of England ; and I have come, and have placed myself 
 under the eye of this man, naked and unarmed in his 
 hands, saying: *My Lord, here is the last resource of 
 a prince whom God made your master, whom his birth 
 made your king; upon you, and you alone, depend his 
 life and his future. Will you employ this money in con- 
 soling England for the evils it must have suffered from 
 VOL. I. — 17 
 
258 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 anarchy ; that is to say, will you aid King Charles II. ; 
 or if not that, will you leave him free to act 1 You are 
 master ; you are king, — all-powerful master and king, for 
 chance sometimes defeats the work of time and God/ I 
 am here alone with you, my Lord. If the success being 
 divided 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 of your cause carries you 
 away ; if you are what you appear to be ; if your hand in 
 what it undertakes obeys your mind, and your mind your 
 heart, — here are the means of ruining forever the cause 
 of your enemy, Charles Stuart. Kill, then, the man you 
 have before you, — for that man will never return to him 
 who has sent him without bearing with him the deposit 
 which Charles I., his father, confided to him, — and keep 
 the gold which may assist in carrying on the civil war. 
 Alas ! my Lord, it is the fate of this unfortunate prince. 
 He must either corrupt or kill, — for everything resists 
 him, everything repulses him, everything is hostile to 
 him ; and yet he is marked with the divine seal, and he 
 must, not to belie his blood, reascend the throne, or die 
 upon the sacred soil of his country. 
 
 " My Lord, you have heard me. To any other but 
 the illustrious man who listens to me, I would have said : 
 * My Lord, you are poor ; my Lord, the king offers you 
 this million as an earnest of an immense profit ; take it, 
 and serve Charles IT. as I served Charles L, and I feel 
 assured that God, who listens to us, who sees us, w^ho 
 alone reads your heart, shut up from all human eyes, 
 — I am assured God will give you a happy eternal life 
 after a happy death.' But to General Monk, to the 
 illustrious man of whose height I believe I have taken 
 measure, I say : ^ My Lord, there is for you in the his- 
 tory of peoples and kings a brilliant place, an immortal, 
 
HEART AND MIND. 
 
 259 
 
 imperishable glory, if alone, without any other interests 
 but those of justice and the good of your country, 
 you become the supporter of your king. Many others 
 have been conquerors and glorious usurpers ; you, my 
 Lord, you will be content with being the most virtuous? 
 the most honest, and the most incorruptible of men : you 
 will have held a crown in your hand, and instead of 
 placing it upon your own brow, you will have deposited 
 it upon the head of him for whom it was made. Oh, my 
 Lord, act thus, and you will leave to posterity the most 
 enviable of names, in which no human creature can rival 
 you ! ' 
 
 Athos stopped. During the whole time that the noble 
 gentleman was speaking. Monk had not given one sign 
 of either approbation or disapprobation ; scarcely even, 
 during this vehement appeal, had his eyes been animated 
 with that fire which bespeaks intelligence. The Comte 
 de la Fere looked at him sorrowfully, and on seeing that 
 melancholy countenance, felt discouragement penetrate 
 to his very heart. At length Monk appeared to recover, 
 and broke the silence. 
 
 " Monsieur," said he, in a mild, calm tone, " in reply 
 to you, I will make use of your own words. To any 
 other but yourself I would reply by expulsion, imprison- 
 ment, or still worse ; for, in fact, you tempt me and you 
 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 gen- 
 tleman. Monsieur, — I say so, and I am a judge. You 
 just now spoke of a deposit which the late king trans- 
 mitted to his son ; are you, then, one of those Frenchmen 
 who, as I have heard, endeavored to carry off Charles 1. 
 from Whitehall ] " 
 
 " Yes, my Lord ; it was I who was beneath the scaffold 
 
260 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 during the execution, — I who, having been unable to save 
 him, received upon my brow the blood of the martyred 
 king. I received, at the same time, the last word of 
 Charles I. ; it was to me he said, ' Remember ! ' and in 
 saying to me ' Remember ! ' he made allusion to the 
 money at your feet, my Lord." 
 
 " I have heard much of you. Monsieur,'' said Monk, 
 " but I am happy, in the first place, to have appreciated 
 you by my own inspiration, and not by my remembrances. 
 I will give you, then, explanations that I have given to 
 no other, and you will appreciate what a distinction I 
 make between you and the persons who have hitherto 
 been sent to me." 
 
 Athos bowed, and prepared to absorb greedily the 
 words which fell, one by one, from the mouth of Monk, 
 — words rare and precious as the dew in the desert. 
 
 " You spoke to me," said Monk, " of Charles II. ; but 
 pray. Monsieur, of what consequence to me is that phan- 
 tom of a king 1 I have grown old in war and in politics, 
 which are nowadays so closely linked together that every 
 man of the sword must fight, in virtue of his rights or 
 his ambition, with a personal interest, and not blindly 
 behind an officer, as in ordinary wars. For myself, I 
 perhaps desire nothing, but I fear much. In the war of 
 to-day resides the liberty of England, and perhaps that 
 of every Englishman. How can you expect that I, free 
 in the position I have made for myself, should go willingly 
 and hold out my hands to the shackles of a stranger? 
 That is all Charles is to me. He has fought battles here 
 which he has lost ; he is therefore a bad captain. He has 
 succeeded in no negotiation ; he is therefore a bad diplo- 
 matist. He has paraded his wants and his miseries in all 
 the courts of Europe ; he has therefore a weak and pusil- 
 lanimous heart. Nothing noble, nothing great, nothing 
 
HEART AND MIND. 
 
 261 
 
 strong, has hitherto emanated from that genius which 
 aspires to govern one of the greatest kingdoms of the 
 earth. I know this Charles, then, under none but bad 
 aspects ; and yet you would wish me, a man of good sense, 
 to go and make myself gratuitously the slave of a creature 
 who is inferior to me in military capacity, in politics, and 
 in dignity ! No, Monsieur. When some great and noble 
 action shall have taught me to value Charles, I will per- 
 haps recognize his rights to a throne from which we have 
 cast the father because he lacked virtues which up to this 
 time are wanting also in his son. But hitherto, in the 
 matter of rights, I recognize only my own : the Eevolu- 
 tion made me a general; my sword will make me pro- 
 tector, if I wish it. Let Charles show himself, let him 
 present himself, let him submit to the competitions open 
 to genius ; and, above all, let him remember that he is 
 of a race from whom more will be looked for 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 w^ell informed of all con- 
 cerning Charles to venture to urge the discussion further ; 
 it was neither the time nor the place. ^' My Lord," then 
 said he, " I have nothing to do but to thank you." 
 
 "And for what. Monsieur? For your having formed 
 a correct opinion of me, and for my having acted accord- 
 ing to your judgment] Is that, in truth, worthy of 
 thanks'? This gold which you are about to carry to 
 Charles will serve me as a test for him ; in seeing the use 
 he will make of it I shall have an opinion, which now I 
 have not." 
 
 "And yet does not your Honor fear to compromise 
 yourself by allowing such a sum to be carried away for 
 the service of your enemy 1 " 
 
262 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 "My enemy, say you? Eh, Monsieur, I have no 
 enemies. I am in the service of the Parliament, which 
 orders me to combat General Lambert and King Charles, 
 
 — its enemies, and not mine. I combat them. If the 
 Parliament, on the contrary, ordered me to unfurl my 
 standards at London, to assemble my soldiers on the 
 banks of the Thames to receive Charles IL — " 
 
 *^ You would obey 1 " cried Athos, joyfully. 
 "Pardon me," said Monk, smiling, "I was going — I, 
 a gray-headed man — in truth, how did I forget myself? 
 
 — I was going to speak like a fooHsh young man." 
 " Then you would not obey ? " said Athos. 
 
 " I do not say ' that either, Monsieur. The welfare of 
 my country before everything. God, who has given me 
 the power, has, no doubt, willed that I should use that 
 power for the good of all ; and he has given me, at the 
 same time, discernment. If the Parliament were to order 
 such a thing, I should — reflect.'' 
 
 The brow of Athos became clouded. " Then I may 
 decidedly say that your Honor is not inclined to favor 
 King Charles IL ? 
 
 " You continue to question me, Monsieur the Count ; 
 allow me, in my turn, if you please.'* 
 
 " Do, Monsieur ; and may God inspire you with the 
 idea of replying to me as frankly as I will reply to you." 
 
 " When you shall have taken this money back to your 
 prince, what advice will you give him ? " 
 
 Athos fixed upon Monk a proud and resolute look. 
 " My Lord," said he, " with this million, which others 
 would perhaps employ in negotiating, I would advise the 
 king to raise two regiments ; to enter by Scotland, which 
 you have just pacified ; to give to the people the fran- 
 chises which the revolution promised them, and in w^hich 
 it has not in all cases kept its word. I should advise 
 
HEART AND MIND. 
 
 263 
 
 him to command in person this little army, — which 
 would, believe me, increase, — and to die, standard in 
 hand, and sword in its sheath, saying, ' Englishmen ! I 
 am the third 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 everything is possible in this 
 world, — what would you advise him to do 1 " 
 
 " To think that by the will of God he lost his crown, 
 but by the good will of men he has recovered it." 
 
 An ironical smile passed over the lips of Monk. Un- 
 fortunately, Monsieur," said he, " kings do not know how 
 to follow good advice." 
 
 Ah, my Lord, Charles II. is not a king," replied 
 Athos, smiling in his turn, but with a very different ex- 
 pression from that of Monk. 
 
 " Let us terminate this conversation. Monsieur the 
 Count, — that is your desire, is it not 1 
 
 Athos bowed. 
 
 " I will give orders that these two casks shall be trans- 
 ported whither you please. Where are you lodging, 
 Monsieur ] " 
 
 " In a little bourg at the mouth of the river, your Honor." 
 
 ^^Oh, I know the bourg; it consists of five or six 
 houses, does it not 1 " 
 
 " Exactly. Well, I inhabit the first. Two net-makers 
 occupy it with me ; it is their boat which placed me on 
 shore." 
 
 " 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 imme- 
 diately ? " 
 
264 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 "My Lord, I shall try once more to convince your 
 Honor." 
 
 "You will not succeed," replied Monk; " but it is of 
 consequence that you should quit Newcastle without 
 leaving on your passage the least suspicion that might 
 prove injurious to you or to me. To-morrow my officers 
 think Lambert will attack me. I, on the contrary, will 
 guarantee that he will not stir ; it is, in my opinion, im- 
 possible. Lambert leads an army devoid of homogeneous 
 principles, and there is no possible army with such ele- 
 ments. I have taught my soldiers to consider my au- 
 thority subordinate to another, the result being that after 
 me, around me, and beneath me they still look for some- 
 thing. And the consequence is, that if I were dead, which 
 might happen, my army would not be demoralized all at 
 once ; that if I chose to absent myself, for instance, as it 
 does please me to do sometimes, there would not be in 
 my camp the shadow of uneasiness or disorder. I am the 
 magnet, — the sympathetic and natural strength of the 
 English. All those scattered arms that will be sent 
 against me I shall attract to myself. Lambert, at this 
 moment, commands eighteen thousand deserters ; but I 
 have never mentioned that to my officers, you may easily 
 suppose. Nothing is more useful to an army than the 
 expectation of a coming battle ; everybody is awake, 
 everybody is on his guard. I tell you this that you may 
 live in perfect security. Do not be in a hurry, then, to 
 cross the seas ; within a week there will be something 
 new, either a battle or an accommodation. Then, as you 
 have judged me to be an honorable man, and confided 
 your secret to me, and I have to thank you for this con- 
 fidence, I will come and pay you a visit or send for 
 you. Do not go before I send you word. I repeat the 
 request." 
 
HEART AND MIND. 
 
 265 
 
 " I promise you, General," cried Athos, with a joy so 
 great, that, in spite of all his circumspection, he could not 
 prevent its sparkling in his eyes. 
 
 Monk surprised this flash, and immediately extinguished 
 it by one of those mute smiles which always, with his in- 
 terlocutors, closed the entrance they believed they had 
 made into his mind. 
 
 " Then, my Lord, you desire me to wait a week '? " 
 A week, — yes, Monsieur. 
 
 " And during this week what shall I do " 
 
 " If there should be a battle, keep at a distance from 
 it, I conjure you. I know the French delight in such 
 amusements ; you might take a fancy to see how we 
 fight, and you might receive a wandering bullet. Our 
 Scots are very bad marksmen, and I do not wish that 
 a worthy gentleman like you should return to France 
 wounded. I should not like, either, to be obliged myself 
 to send to your prince his million left here by you ; for 
 then it would be said, and with reason, that I paid the 
 pretender to enable him to make war against the Parlia- 
 ment. Go, then, Monsieur, and let it be done as has been 
 agreed upon." 
 
 *'Ah, my Lord," said Athos, "what joy it would give 
 me to be the first to penetrate the noble heart which 
 beats beneath that cloak ! " 
 
 " You decidedly think, then, that I have secrets," said 
 Monk, without changing the half-cheerful expression of 
 his countenance. " Why, Monsieur, what secret can you 
 expect to find in the hollow head of a soldier '? But it is 
 getting late, and our torch is almost out ; let us call our 
 man. — Holloa ! " he cried, in French, approaching the 
 stairs; " holloa ! fisherman ! " 
 
 The fisherman, benumbed by the cold night-air, replied 
 in a hoarse voice, asking what they wanted of him. 
 
266 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONXE. 
 
 " Go to the post," said Monk, ^' and order a sergeant, 
 in the name of General Monk, to come here immediately." 
 
 This was a commission easily performed ; for the ser- 
 geant, uneasy at the general's being in that desolate 
 abbey, had drawn nearer by degrees, and was not much 
 farther off than the fisherman. The general's order was 
 therefore 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 get- 
 ting a horse with a pack-saddle or two panniers ] " 
 
 "No doubt, at a hundred paces ofi", in the Scotch 
 camp." 
 
 " Very well." 
 
 " AVhat shall I do with the horse, General 1 " 
 " Look here." 
 
 The sergeant descended the three steps which sep- 
 arated him from Monk, and came into the vault. 
 **You see," said Monk, "that gentleman yonder?" 
 " Yes, General." 
 
 " And you see these two casks ] " 
 "Perfectly." 
 
 " One of these two casks contains powder, and the 
 other balls ; I wish these casks to be transported to the 
 little bourg at the mouth of the river, which I reckon 
 upon occupying to-morrow with two hundred muskets. 
 You understand that the commission is a secret ojje, 
 for it is a movement that may decide the fate of the 
 battle." 
 
 "Oh, my general ! " murmured the sergeant. 
 
 " Mind, then ! Let these casks be fastened on the 
 horse, and let them be escorted by two men and you to 
 the residence of this gentleman, who is my friend. But 
 take care that nobody knows it." 
 
HEART AND MIND. 
 
 267 
 
 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 pre- 
 caution we shall get there safely enough." 
 
 " 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 to contain, do they not, Monsieur]" 
 
 *' Thereabouts/' said Athos. 
 
 The sergeant went in search of the two men and the 
 horse. Monk, left alone with Athos, affected to speak to 
 him of nothing but indifferent things, while examining 
 the vault in a cursory manner. Then, hearing the 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." And bowing to Athos, he went up the 
 stairs, passing, about the middle of them, his men who 
 were coming down. 
 
 Monk had not gone twenty paces from the abbey when 
 a faint but prolonged whistle was heard at a distance. 
 He listened, but, seeing nothing and hearing nothing, 
 continued on his way. Then he remembered the fisher- 
 man, and looked about for him ; but the fisherman had 
 disappeared. If he had, however, looked with more at- 
 tention, he might have seen that man, bent double, 
 gliding like a serpent along the stones and losing himself 
 
268 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 in the mist floating over the surface of the marsh. He 
 might have equally seen, seeking to pierce that mist, a 
 spectacle that would have interested him, — the masts 
 of the fishing-boat, which had changed place, and was 
 now nearer the shore. But Monk saw nothing ; and 
 thinking he had nothing to fear, he entered the desert 
 causeway which led to his camp. It was then that the 
 disappearance of the fisherman appeared strange, and that 
 a real suspicion began to take possession of his mind. 
 He had just placed at the orders of Athos the only post 
 that could protect him. He had a mile of causeway to 
 traverse before he could regain his camp. The fog in- 
 creased to such density that he could scarcely distinguish 
 objects at ten paces' distance. Monk then thought he 
 heard the sound of an oar over the marsh on the right. 
 Who goes there ] " said he. 
 
 But nobody answered ; then he cocked his pistol, took 
 his sword in his hand, and quickened his pace, without, 
 however, being willing to call anybody. Such a sum- 
 mons, for which there was no absolute necessity, appeared 
 unworthy of him. 
 
THE NEXT DAY. 
 
 269 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE NEXT DAY. 
 
 It was seven o'clock in the morning ; the first rays of the 
 sun lighted the pools of the marsh, in which it was re- 
 flected like a red ball, when Athos, awaking and opening 
 the window of his bed-chamber, which looked out upon 
 the banks of the river, perceived, at fifteen paces* dis- 
 tance from him, the sergeant and the men who had ac- 
 companied him the evening before, and who, after having 
 deposited the casks at his house, had returned to the 
 camp by the causeway on the right. 
 
 For what could these men, after having returned to the 
 camp, have come backl That was the first question which 
 presented itself to Athos. The sergeant, with his head 
 raised, appeared to be watching the moment when the 
 gentleman should appear, to address him. Athos, sur- 
 prised to see these men there, whom he had seen depart 
 the night before, could not forbear expressing his astonish- 
 ment to them. 
 
 " There is nothing surprising in that. Monsieur," said 
 the sergeant ; ^' for yesterday the general commanded me 
 to watch over your safety, and I thought 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 of the fidelity with which you fulfilled 
 
270 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 your duty, and to get my sword, which I left yesterday 
 upon the table." 
 
 "That falls out very well/' said the sergeant, **for we 
 were about to beg you to do so." 
 
 Athos fancied he could detect an air of equivocal bon- 
 homie upon the countenance of the sergeant ; but the 
 adventure of the vault might have excited the curiosity 
 of the man, and he was not surprised that he allowed 
 some of the feelings which agitated his mind to appear in 
 his face. Athos closed the doors carefully, confiding the 
 keys to Grimaud, who had chosen his domicile beneath 
 the shed itself, which led to the cellar where the casks 
 had been deposited. The sergeant escorted the Comte 
 de la Fere to the camp. There a fresh guard awaited 
 him, and relieved the four men who had conducted 
 Athos. This fresh guard was commanded by the aide- 
 de-camp Digby, who, on their way, fixed upon Athos 
 looks so little encouraging that the Frenchman asked 
 himself whence arose, with regard to him, this vigilance 
 and this severity, when the evening before he had been 
 left perfectly free. He continued his way not the less to 
 the headquarters, keeping to himself the observations 
 which men and things forced him to make. He found 
 under the 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 had left 
 it. Neither of the officers had seen Athos, consequently 
 neither of them knew him. Monk's lieutenant asked, on 
 the appearance of Athos, if that were 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 my turn, permit me to 
 
THE NEXT DAY. 
 
 271 
 
 ask you for what purpose this question is asked, and par- 
 ticularly for some explanation of the tone in which you 
 ask itr' 
 
 Monsieur," said the lieutenant, if we address this 
 question to you, it is because we have a right to do so ; 
 and if we ask it in a particular tone, it is because that 
 tone, believe me, agrees with the circumstances." 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Athos, " you do not know who I 
 am ; but I must tell you I acknowledge no one as my 
 equal here but General Monk. Where is he 1 Let me be 
 conducted to him, and if he has any questions to put to 
 me, I will answer him, and to his satisfaction, I hope. I 
 repeat, gentlemen, where is the general ^ " 
 
 " Eh ! good God ! you know better than we do where 
 he is," said the lieutenant. 
 
 ^^Yes, you.'' 
 
 Monsieur," said Athos, " I do not understand you." 
 
 " You will understand me — and, on your part, 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 ; we require you to answer." 
 
 " And I, gentlemen, declare to you that I will not reply 
 until I am in the presence of the general." 
 
 " But," replied the same colonel who had already 
 spoken, "you know very well that you demand what is 
 impossible." 
 
 " This is the second time I have received this strange 
 reply to the wish I express," said Athos. "Is the general 
 absent % " 
 
 This question was made with such apparent good faith, 
 and the gentleman wore an air of such natural surprise, 
 that the three officers exchanged a meaning look. The 
 
272 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 lieutenant, by a sort of tacit understanding with the 
 other two, was spokesman. 
 
 " Monsieur, the general left you last night in the boun- 
 daries of the monastery 1 " 
 
 " 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 interrogate you 1 " 
 
 " Then it will please me to reply, Monsieur, that I am 
 not answerable to any one here, that I know no one here 
 but the general, and that it is to him alone I will reply." 
 
 ^' So be it, Monsieur ; but as we are the masters, we 
 constitute ourselves a council of war, and when you are 
 before judges you must reply." 
 
 The countenance of Athos expressed nothing but as- 
 tonishment and disdain, instead of the terror the officers 
 expected to read in it at this threat. 
 
 ^' 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 1 " 
 
 " To that, Monsieur, I have already replied." 
 Yes, but your reply is incredible to us." 
 
 " It is true, nevertheless, gentlemen. Men of my rank 
 are not generally liars. I am a gentleman, I have told 
 you ; and when I have at my side the sword which, by an 
 excess of delicacy, I last night left upon the table whereon 
 it still lies, believe me, no man says that to me which I 
 am unwilling to hear. To-day, I am disarmed : if you 
 
THE NEXT DAY. 
 
 273 
 
 pretend to be my judges, try me ; if you are but my exe- 
 cutioners, kill me." 
 
 ^' But, Monsieur — " asked the lieutenant, in a more 
 courteous voice, struck with the lofty coolness of Athos. 
 
 Monsieur, I came to speak confidentially with your 
 general about affairs of importance. It was not an ordi- 
 nary welcome that he gave me. The accounts your soldiers 
 can give you may convince you of that. If, then, the 
 general received me in that manner, he knew what were 
 my titles to his esteem. ISTow, you do not expect, I 
 presume, that I shall reveal my secrets to you, and still 
 less his." 
 
 " But these casks, — what do they contain 1 " 
 
 ^^Have you not put that question to your soldiers? 
 What was their reply 1 " 
 
 That they contained powder and ball." 
 
 ^' From whom had they that information 1 They must 
 have told you that." 
 
 From the general ; but w^e are not dupes." 
 Beware, gentlemen ; it is not to me you are now 
 giving the lie, it is to your leader." 
 
 The officers again looked at each other. Athos con- 
 tinued : " Before your soldiers the general told me to 
 w^ait a week, and at the expiration of a week he would 
 give me the answer he had to make me. Have I fled 
 away ? No ; I wait." 
 
 He told you to wait a week ! " cried the lieutenant. 
 
 " He told me so clearly, Monsieur, that I have a 
 sloop at the mouth of the river, which I could with ease 
 have joined yesterday, and embarked. Now, if I have 
 remained, it was only in compliance with the desire of 
 your general ; his Honor having requested me not to 
 depart without a last audience, which he fixed at a week 
 hence. I repeat to you, then, I am waiting." 
 
 VOL. I. — 18 
 
274 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 The lieutenant turned towards the other officers, and 
 said, in a low voice : If this gentleman speaks truth, 
 there may still be some hope. The general may be carry- 
 ing out some negotiations so secret that he thought it 
 imprudent to inform even as. Then the time limited for 
 his absence would be a week." Then, turning towards 
 Athos, Monsieur/' said he, ^'your declaration is of the 
 most serious importance ; are you willing to repeat it 
 under the seal of an oath 1 " 
 
 "Monsieur/' replied Athos, " I have always lived in a 
 world where my simple word was regarded as the most 
 sacred of oaths." 
 
 " This time, however. Monsieur, the circumstance is 
 graver than any you may have been placed in. The 
 safety of the whole army is at stake. Eeflect ; the gen- 
 eral has disappeared, and we are seeking for him. Is this 
 disappearance natural 1 Has a crime been committed 1 
 Are we not bound to carry our investigations to extremity 1 
 Have we any right to w^ait with patience 1 At this mo- 
 ment everything. Monsieur, depends upon the words you 
 are about to pronounce/' 
 
 " Interrogated thus, Monsieur, I no longer hesitate," 
 said Athos. " Yes, I came hither to converse confiden- 
 tially with General Monk, and to ask of him an answer 
 regarding certain interests ; yes, the general, being doubt- 
 less unable to give it before the expected battle, begged 
 me to remain a week in the house I inhabit, promising 
 me that in a week I should see him again. Yes, all this 
 is true, and I swear it, by the God who is the absolute 
 master of my life and yours." Athos pronounced these 
 words with so much grandeur and solemnity, that the 
 three officers were almost convinced. Nevertheless, one 
 of the colonels made a last attempt. 
 
 " Monsieur/' said he, " although we may be now per- 
 
THE NEXT DAY. 
 
 275 
 
 suaded of the truth of what you say, there is yet a strange 
 mystery in all this. The general is too prudent a man 
 to have thus abandoned his army on the eve of a battle, 
 without having at least given to one of us a notice of it. 
 As for myself, I cannot believe but that some strange 
 event has been the cause of this disappearance. Yester- 
 day some foreign fishermen came to sell their fish here ; 
 they were lodged yonder among the Scots, — that is to say, 
 on the road the general took with this gentleman, to go 
 to the abbey and to return from it. It was one of those 
 fishermen that accompanied the general with a light ; and 
 this morning, boat and fishermen have all disappeared, 
 carried away by the night's tide." 
 
 ^'For my part," said the lieutenant, " I see nothing in 
 that which is not quite natural, for these people were not 
 prisoners." 
 
 " No j but I repeat that it was one of them who lighted 
 the general and this gentleman in the vault of the abbey, 
 and Digby assures us that the general had strong suspi- 
 cions concerning those people. Now, who can say whether 
 these people were not connected with this gentleman ; 
 and that, the blow being struck, the gentleman, who is 
 evidently brave, did not remain to reassure us by his 
 presence, and to prevent our researches being made in 
 the right direction 1 " 
 
 This speech made an impression upon the other officers. 
 
 " Monsieur," said Athos, " permit me to tell you that 
 your reasoning, though specious in appearance, neverthe- 
 less 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 his army without notice to any one. 
 Yes, there is some strange event connected with this; 
 
276 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 instead of being idle and waiting, you must display 
 all the activity and all the vigilance possible. I am 
 your prisoner, gentlemen, upon parole or otherwise. My 
 honor is concerned in the ascertaining of what has become 
 of General Monk, and to such a point that if you were 
 to say to me, ^ Depart ! ' I should reply, ' No, I will re- 
 main ! ' and if you were to ask my opinion, I should 
 add, ' Yes, the general is the victim of some conspiracy ; 
 for if he had intended to leave the camp he would have 
 told me so.' Seek then, search the land, search the sea : 
 the general has not gone away, or at any rate has not 
 gone voluntarily." 
 
 The lieutenant made a sign to the two other officers. 
 "No, Monsieur," said he, "no; in your turn you go too 
 far. The general has nothing to suffer from these events, 
 and no doubt, on the contrary, has directed them. What 
 Monk is now doing he has often done before. We are 
 wTong in alarming ourselves; his absence will doubtless 
 be of short duration. Therefore let us beware of making 
 his absence public by a pusillanimity which the general 
 would consider a crime, and by that means demoralizing 
 the army. The general gives a striking proof of his confi- 
 dence in us ; let us show ourselves worthy of it. Gentle- 
 men, let the most profound silence cover all this with an 
 impenetrable veil ; we will detain this gentleman, not 
 from mistrust of him with regard to the crime, but to 
 assure more effectively the secrecy of the absence of the 
 general, and the confinement of it among ourselves ; 
 therefore, until fresh orders, the gentleman will remain 
 at headquarters." 
 
 "Gentlemen," said Athos, "you forget that last night 
 the general confided to me a deposit over which I am 
 bound to watch. Give me whatever guard you like, en- 
 chain me if you like, but leave me the house I inhabit 
 
THE NEXT DAY. 
 
 277 
 
 for my prison. The general on his return would reproach 
 you, I swear on the honor of a gentleman, for having dis- 
 pleased him in this." 
 
 The officers consulted together a moment ; then, after 
 that consultation, " So be it. Monsieur,'^ said the lieu- 
 tenant ; " return to your abode." 
 
 Then they placed over Athos a guard of fifty men, 
 who surrounded his house, without losing sight of him 
 for a minute. 
 
 The secret remained secure; but hours, even days, 
 passed away without the generars returning, or without 
 anything being heard of him. 
 
278 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVIII. 
 
 CONTRABAND GOODS. 
 
 Two days after the events we have just related, and while 
 every instant General Monk was looked for in the camp to 
 which he did not return, a little Dutch felucca, manned by 
 eleven men, cast anchor upon the coast of Scheveningen, 
 nearly within cannon-shot of the port. It was night ; the 
 darkness was great ; the sea rose in the darkness. It was 
 a capital time to land passengers and merchandise. 
 
 The road of Scheveningen forms a vast crescent ; it is 
 not very deep and not very safe ; therefore nothing is 
 seen stationed there but large Flemish hoys, or some 
 of those Dutch barks which fishermen draw up on the 
 sand upon rollers, as the ancients did, according to Virgil. 
 When the tide, on rising, ascends and advances on the 
 land, it is not prudent to bring vessels too close in 
 shore ; for if the wind is fresh the prows are buried in the 
 sand, and the sand of that coast is spongy, — it receives 
 easily, but does not give up so. It was on this account, 
 no doubt, that a boat was detached from the bark, as 
 soon as the latter had cast anchor, and landed with eight 
 sailors, amidst whom was to be seen an object of an ob- 
 long form, a sort of large pannier or bale. 
 
 The shore was deserted ; the few fishermen inhabiting 
 the dune had gone to bed. The only sentinel that 
 guarded the coast, — a coast very badly guarded, seeing 
 that a landing from large ships was impossible, — without 
 having been able to follow^ the example of the fishermen 
 
CONTRABAND GOODS. 
 
 279 
 
 who had gone to bed, imitated them so far that he slept 
 at the back of his watch-box as soundly as they slept in 
 their beds. The only noise to be heard, then, was the 
 whistling of the night-breeze among the bushes and bram- 
 bles of the dune. But the people who were approaching 
 were doubtless mistrustful people, for this real silence and 
 apparent solitude did not satisfy them. Their boat, there- 
 fore, scarcely visible as a dark speck upon the ocean, glided 
 along noiselessly, — the use of oars being avoided for fear 
 of being heard, — and gained the nearest land. Scarcely 
 \ had it touched the ground when a single man jumped out 
 of the boat, after having given a brief order, with a voice 
 which denoted the habit of commanding. In consequence 
 of this order, several muskets immediately glittered in 
 the feeble light reflected from that mirror of the heavens, 
 the sea ; and the oblong bale of which we spoke, contain- 
 ing no doubt some contraband object, was transported to 
 land, with infinite precautions. Immediately after, the 
 man who had landed first, set off in a hasty pace diago- 
 nally towards the village of Scheveningen, directing his 
 course to the nearest point of the wood. When there, 
 he sought for that house already described as the tem- 
 porary residence — and a very humble residence — of him 
 who was styled, by courtesy, King of England. All were 
 asleep there, as everywhere else ; only, a large dog, of the 
 race of those which the fishermen of Scheveningen har- 
 ness to little carts to carry fish to the Hague, began to 
 bark formidably as soon as the stranger s steps were audi- 
 ble beneath the windows. But this watchfulness, instead 
 of alarming the newly landed man, appeared, on the con- 
 trary, to give him great joy ; for his voice might perhaps 
 have proved insufficient to rouse the people of the house, 
 while, with an auxiliary of that sort, his voice became 
 almost useless. The stranger waited, then, till these re- 
 
280 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 iterated and sonorous barkings should, according to all 
 probability, have produced their effect, and then he ven- 
 tured a summons. On hearing his voice the dog began 
 to roar with such violence that soon another voice was 
 heard from the interior, appeasing that of the dog. With 
 that the dog was quieted. 
 
 What do you w^ant 1 " asked the voice, at once weak, 
 broken, and civil. 
 
 " I want his Majesty King Charles II.," said the 
 stranger. 
 
 " What do you want with him 1 " 
 
 "I want to speak to him." 
 Who are you 1 " 
 
 " Ah, mordioux ! you ask too much ; I don't like talk- 
 ing through doors." 
 
 " Only tell me your name." 
 
 " I don't like to declare my name in the open air, 
 either ; besides, you may be sure I shall not eat your 
 dog, and I hope to God he will be as reserved with respect 
 to me." 
 
 ^'You bring news, perhaps, Monsieur, do you notl" 
 replied the voice, patient and questioning, like that of an 
 old man. 
 
 " I will answer for it, I bring you news you little expect. 
 Open the door, then, if you please, hein ! " 
 
 "Monsieur," persisted the old man, "do you believe, 
 upon your soul and conscience, that your news will 
 warrant waking the king 1 " 
 
 " For God's sake, my dear monsieur, draw your bolts ; 
 you will not be sorry, I swear, for the trouble it will 
 give you. I am worth my weight in gold, upon my 
 honor ! " 
 
 " Monsieur, I cannot, notwithstanding, open the door 
 till you have told me your name." 
 
CONTRABAND GOODS. 
 
 281 
 
 « Must I, then r' 
 
 "It is by the order of my master, Monsieur." 
 
 " Well, my name is — But I warn you my name will 
 tell you absolutely nothing." 
 
 Never mind ; tell it, notwithstanding." 
 
 " Well, I am the Chevalier d'Artagnan." 
 
 The voice on the other side of the door uttered an 
 exclamation. 
 
 " Oh ! good heavens ! M. d'Artagnan ! What happi- 
 ness ! I could not help thinking 1 knew that 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 is the proof." And at these words he 
 let in D'Artagnan, who, by the light of the lantern he 
 carried in his hand, recognized his obstinate interlocutor. 
 
 "Ah! mordioux ! cried he; "why, it is Parry! I 
 ought to have known that." 
 
 " Parry, — yes, my dear M. d'Artagnan, it is I. What 
 joy to see you once again 1 " 
 
 "You are right there, — what joy ! " said D'Artagnan, 
 pressing the old man's hand. "TherC; 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, I will promise you." 
 
 "You come on the part of the count, do you not] " 
 
 " Of what count ] " 
 
 "The Comte de la Fere." 
 
 " From Athos % My faith ! no ; I come on my own part. 
 Come, Parry, quick ! The king, — I want the king." 
 
 Parry did not think it his duty to resist any longer. 
 He had known D'Artagnan long before ; he knew that 
 although a Gascon, his words never promised more than 
 
282 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 they could stand to. He crossed a court and a little 
 garden, appeased the dog, who seemed seriously to wish 
 to taste the musketeer, and who went howling to the 
 shelter of a chamber forming the ground-floor of a little 
 pavilion. Immediately a little dog inhabiting that cham- 
 ber replied to the great dog inhabiting the court. 
 
 " Poor king ! " said D'Artagnan to himself, " these are 
 his body-guards. It is 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, and a flood of light inundated the corridor 
 and the garden. The king was working by the light of 
 a lamp. Papers were lying about upon his desk, and he 
 was engaged upon the rough draught of a letter which 
 showed, by the numerous erasures, the trouble he had had 
 in writing it. 
 
 Come in, Monsieur the Chevalier,'* said he, turning 
 round. Tlien, perceiving the fisherman, ^'What do you 
 mean, Parry 1 Where is M. le Chevalier d'Artagnan 1 " 
 asked Charles. 
 
 He is before you, Sire," said M. d'Artagnan. 
 " What ! in that costume 1 " 
 
 " Yes ; look at me. Sire. Do you not remember having 
 seen me at Blois, in the antechambers of King Louis 
 XIV. ] " 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur, and I remember I was much pleased 
 with you." 
 
 D'Artagnan bowed. *'It was my duty to conduct 
 myself as I did, the moment I knew that 1 had the honor 
 of being near your Majesty." 
 
CONTRABAND GOODS. 
 
 283 
 
 You bring me news, do you say 1 
 " Yes, Sire." 
 
 " From the King of France 1 " 
 
 "My faith! no, Sire,'* replied D'Artagnan. "Your 
 Majesty must have seen yonder that the King of France 
 is occupied only with his own majesty " 
 
 Charles raised his eyes towards heaven. 
 
 " No, Sire, no," continued D'Artagnan ; " I bring news 
 entirely composed of personal facts. ^Nevertheless, I hope 
 your Majesty will listen to the facts 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 of affairs in 
 England." 
 
 Charles colored. " Monsieur," said he, " it was to the 
 King of France alone that I related — " 
 
 "Oh! your Majesty is mistaken," said the musketeer, 
 coolly. " I know how to speak to kings in misfortune. It 
 is only when they are in misfortune that they speak to 
 me ; once fortunate, they look upon me no more. I have, 
 then, for your Majesty not only the greatest respect, but, 
 still more, the most absolute devotion ; and that, believe 
 me, with me. Sire, means something. Now, hearing your 
 Majesty complain of your destiny, I found that you were 
 noble and generous, and bore misfortune well." 
 
 *'In truth," said Charles, much astonished, " I do not 
 know which I ought to prefer, — your freedom or your 
 respect." 
 
 "You will choose presently. Sire," said D'Artagnan. 
 "Then your Majesty complained to your brother, Louis 
 XI Y., of the difficulty you experienced in returning to 
 England and regaining your throne, for want of men and 
 money." 
 
284 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Charles allowed a movement of impatience to escape 
 him. 
 
 " And the principal hindrance jour Majesty found in 
 your way," continued D'Artagnan, " was a certain general 
 commanding the armies of the Parliament, and who was 
 playing yonder the part of another Cromwell. Did not 
 your Majesty say so 
 
 " Yes ; but I repeat to you, Monsieur, those w^ords 
 w^ere for the king's ears alone." 
 
 " And you will see, Sire, that it is very fortunate that 
 they fell into those of his lieutenant of Musketeers. 
 The man so troublesome to your Majesty was one 
 General Monk, I believe ; did I not hear his name 
 correctly, Sire 1 " 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur ; but once more, to what purpose are 
 all these questions 1 " 
 
 Oh ! I know very well, Sire, that etiquette wall not 
 allow kings to be interrogated. I hope, however, pres- 
 ently you will pardon my want of etiquette. Your 
 Majesty added that, notwithstanding, if you could see 
 him, confer with him, and meet him face to face, you 
 would triumph, either by force or persuasion, over that 
 obstacle, — the only serious one, the only insurmountable 
 one, the only real one you met with on your road." 
 
 *^A11 that is true. Monsieur; my destiny, my future, 
 my obscurity, or my glory depends upon that man ; but 
 what do you draw from that 1 " 
 
 *'One thing alone, — that if this General Monk is 
 troublesome to the point you describe, it would be ex- 
 pedient to get rid of him, your Majesty, or to make an 
 ally of him." 
 
 Monsieur, a king who has neither army nor money, 
 since you have heard my conversation with my brother 
 Louis, has no means of acting against a man like Monk." 
 
CONTRABAND GOODS. 
 
 285 
 
 "Yes, Sire, that was your opinion, I know very well; 
 but, fortunately for you, it was not mine." 
 What do you mean by that 1 " 
 
 "That, without an army and without a million, I have 
 done — I myself — what your Majesty thought could be 
 done only wuth an army and a million." 
 
 " How ! What do you say 1 What have you done 1 " 
 
 " What have I done 1 Eh ! well. Sire, I went yonder 
 to take this man who is so troublesome to your Majesty." 
 
 " In England 1 " 
 
 " Exactly, Sire." 
 
 " You went to take Monk in England 1 " 
 
 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 1" 
 
 " In the midst of his camp." 
 
 The king trembled with impatience. 
 
 " And having taken him on the causeway of Newcastle, 
 I bring him to your Majesty," said D'Artagnan, simply. 
 
 "You bring him to me ! " cried the king, almost indig- 
 nant at what he considered a hoax. 
 
 "Yes, Sire," replied D'Artagnan, in the same tone, "I 
 bring him to you ; he is down below yonder, in a large 
 chest pierced with holes, so as to allow him to breathe." 
 
 " Good God ! " 
 
 " Oh ! don't be uneasy. Sire ; we have taken the great- 
 est possible care of him. He comes in good state and in 
 perfect condition. Would your Majesty please to see him, 
 to talk with him, or to have him throw^n into the sea? " 
 
 "Oh, heavens !" repeated Charles, "oh, heavens! do 
 you speak the truth, Monsieur 1 Are you not insulting 
 
286 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 me with some unworthy pleasantry ? You have accom- 
 plished this unheard-of act of audacity and genius, — 
 impossible ! 
 
 " Will your Majesty permit me to open the window 1 " 
 said D'Artagnan, opening it. 
 
 The king had not time to say yes. D'Artagnan gave 
 a shrill and prolonged whistle, which he repeated three 
 times through the silence of the night. 
 
 " There ! " said he, " he will be brought to yonr 
 Mnjesty." 
 
D'AETAGNAN'S FEARS. 
 
 287 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 IN WHICH d'aRTAGNAN BEGINS TO FEAR HE HAS PLACED 
 HIS MONEY AND THAT OF PLANCHET IN THE SINKING 
 FUND. 
 
 The king could not overcome his surprise, and looked 
 sometimes at the smiling face of the musketeer and 
 sometimes at the dark window which opened into the 
 night. But before he had fixed his ideas, eight of 
 D'Artagnan's men — for two had remained to take care 
 of the boat — brought to the house where Parry re- 
 ceived him, that object, of an oblong form, which for the 
 moment enclosed the destinies of England. Before he 
 left Calais, D'Artagnan had had made in that city a sort 
 (^f coffin, large and deep enough for .a man to turn in it at 
 his ease. The bottom and sides, properly mattressed, 
 formed a bed sufficiently soft to prevent the rolling of the 
 ship turning this kind of cage into a rat-trap. The little 
 grating, of which D'Artagnan had spoken to the king, 
 like the visor of a helmet, was placed opposite to the 
 man's face. It was so constructed that, at the least cry, 
 a sudden pressure would stifle that cry, and, if neces- 
 sary, him who had uttered it. D'Artagnan was so well 
 acquainted with his crew and his prisoner, that during 
 the who^e voyage he had been in dread of two things, — 
 either that the general would prefer death to this sort of 
 imprisonment; and would cause himself to be smothered 
 by endeavoring to speak ; or that his guards would allow 
 themselves to be tempted by the offers of the prisoner, 
 and put hini; D'Artagnan, into the box instead of Monk. 
 
288 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 D'Artagnan, therefore, had passed the two days and the 
 two nights of the voyage close to the coffin, alone with 
 the general, offering him wine and food, which he had 
 refused, and constantly endeavoring to reassure hiui upon 
 the destiny which awaited him at the end of this singular 
 captivity. Two pistols on the table and his naked sword 
 made D'Artagnan easy with regard to indiscretions from 
 without. When once at, Scheveningen he had felt com- 
 pletely reassured. His men greatly dreaded any conflict 
 with the lords of the soil. He had, besides, interested in 
 his cause him who had morally served him as lieutenant, 
 and whom we have seen reply to the name of Menneville. 
 The latter, not being a vulgar spirit, had more to risk 
 than the others, because he had more conscience. He 
 had faith in a future in the service of D'Artagnan, and 
 consequently would have allowed himself to be cut to 
 pieces, rather than violate the order given by his leader. 
 Thus it was that, once landed, it was to him D'Artagnan 
 had confided the care of the chest and of the general's 
 respiration. It was he, too, whom he had ordered to have 
 the chest brought by the seven men as soon as he should 
 hear the triple whistle. We have seen that the lieutenant 
 obeyed. The box once in the house, D'Artagnan dis- 
 missed his men with a gracious smile, saying, " Messieurs, 
 you have rendered a great service to his Majesty King 
 Charles II., who in less than six weeks will be King of 
 England. Your gratification will then be doubled. Re- 
 turn to the boat and wait for me." Upon which they 
 departed with such shouts of joy as terrified even the dog 
 himself. 
 
 D'Artagnan had caused the box to be brought into 
 the king's antechamber. He then, with great care, closed 
 the doors of this antechamber, after which he opened 
 the box, and said to the general : " General, I have 
 
D'ARTAGNAN'S FEARS. 
 
 289 
 
 a thousand excuses to make to you. My manner of 
 acting has not been worthy of such a man as you, 
 I know very well; but I wished yoii to take me for 
 the sea-captain. And then England is a very incon- 
 venient country for transports. I hope, therefore, you 
 will take all that into consideration. But now, General, 
 you are at liberty to get up and walk." This said, he cut 
 the bonds which fastened the arms and hands of the gen- 
 eral. The latter got up, and then sat down with the 
 countenance of a man who expects death. D'Artagnan 
 opened the door of Charles's cabinet, and said, " Sire, 
 here is your enemy, M. Monk ; I promised myself to 
 perform this service for your Majesty. It is done ; novi 
 order as you please. M. Monk/' added he, turning towards 
 the prisoner, "you are in the presence of his Majesty 
 Charles II., sovereign lord of Great Britain." 
 
 Monk raised towards the prince his coldly stoical look, 
 and replied : I know no king of Great Britain ; I recog- 
 nize even here no one worthy of bearing the name of gen- 
 tleman : for it is in the name of King Charles II. that an 
 emissary, whom I took for an honest man, has come and 
 laid an infamous snare for me. I have fallen into that 
 snare ; so much the worse for me. Now, you the tempter," 
 said he to the king, "you the executor," said he to D'Ar- 
 tagnan, remember what I am about to say to you : 
 you have my body, you may kill it ; and I urge you to do 
 so, for you shall never have my mind or my will. And 
 now, ask me not a single word, for from this moment I 
 will not open my mouth even to cry out. I have said." 
 
 General Monk pronounced these words with the savage, 
 invincible resolution of a Puritan in a state of great indig- 
 nation. D'Artagnan looked at his prisoner like a man who 
 knows the value of every word, and who fixes that value ac- 
 cording to the accent with which it has been pronounced. 
 
 VOL. T. — 19 
 
290 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 The fact is," said he, in a whisper to the king, the 
 general is an obstinate man ; he would not take a mouth- 
 ful of bread, nor swallow a drop of wine, during the two 
 days of our voyage. But as from this moment it is your 
 Majesty who must decide his fate, I wash my hands of 
 him." 
 
 Monk, erect, pale, and resigned, waited with his eyea 
 fixed and his arms folded. D'Artagnan turned towards 
 him. " You will please to understand perfectly," said he, 
 " that your speech, otherwise very fine, does not suit any- 
 body, not even yourself. His Alajesty wished to speak 
 to you ; you refused him an interview. Why, now that 
 you are face to face, that you are here by a force inde- 
 pendent of your will, — why do you confine yourself to rig- 
 ors which I consider as useless and absurd 1 Speak ! 
 what the devil ! speak, if only to say ^ No.' " 
 
 Monk did not unclose his lips ; he did not turn his 
 eyes; he stroked his mustache with a thoughtful air, 
 which announced that matters were going on badly. 
 
 During all this time Charles II. had fallen into a pro- 
 found reverie. For the first time he found himself face 
 to face with Monk, — that is to say, with the man he had 
 so much desired to see ; and with that peculiar glance 
 which God has given to eagles and kings, he had fathomed 
 the abyss of his heart. He beheld Monk, then, resolved 
 positively to die rather than speak, — which was not to 
 be wondered at in so considerable a man, the wound 
 in whose mind must at the moment have been severe. 
 Charles II. formed, on the instant, one of those resolutions 
 upon which an ordinary man stakes his life, a general his 
 fortune, and a king his kingdom. Monsieur," said he 
 to Monk, " you are perfectly right upon certain points ; 
 I do not, therefore, ask you to answer me, but to listen 
 to me." 
 
D'ARTAGNAN'S FEABS. 
 
 291 
 
 There was a moment's silence, during which the king 
 looked at Monk, who remained impassive. 
 
 You have made me just now a painful reproach, Mon- 
 sieur," continued the king; "you said that one of my 
 emissaries had been to Newcastle to lay a snare for you ; 
 and that, by the way, cannot be understood by M. d'Ar- 
 tagnan here, and to whom, before everything, I owe sin- 
 cere thanks for 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 excuse myself, — for M. d'Artagnan," con- 
 tinued the king, " has gone into England on his own 
 proper movement, without interest, without orders, with- 
 out hope, like a true gentleman as he is, to render a ser- 
 vice to an unfortunate king, and to add to the illustrious 
 actions of an existence already so well filled, one fine 
 action more." 
 
 D'Artagnan colored a little, and coughed to keep his 
 countenance. Monk did not stir. 
 
 ^' You do not believe what I tell you, M. Monk," con- 
 tinued the king. 1 can understand that ; such proofs 
 of devotion are so rare, that their reality 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 truth so exact that it 
 appears, in going to fetch the general, I have done some- 
 thing which sets everything wrong. In truth, if it be so, 
 I am in despair." 
 
 " Monsieur d'Artagnan," said the king, pressing the 
 hand of the musketeer, "you have obliged me more than 
 if you had promoted the success of my cause ; for you 
 have revealed to me an unknown friend, to whom I 
 shall ever be grateful, and whom I shall always love ; 
 
292 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 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, for an instant illumined by that flash, re- 
 sumed its sombre impassiveness. 
 
 Then, M. d'Artagnan," continued Charles, "this is 
 what was about to happen ; M. le Comte de la Fere, 
 — whom you know, I believe, — has set out for New- 
 castle." 
 
 " Athos % " exclaimed D'Artagnan. 
 
 " Yes ; that was his nom de guerre, I believe. The Comte 
 de la Fere had, then, set out for Is'ewcastle, and was going, 
 perhaps, to bring the general to hold a conference with 
 me or with those of my party, when you violently, as it 
 appears, interfered with the negotiation." 
 
 Mordioiix /" replied D'Artagnan, "it was he, without 
 doubt, who entered the camp the very evening in which I 
 succeeded in getting into it with my fishermen — " 
 
 An almost imperceptible frown on the brow of Monk 
 told D'Artagnan that he had surmised rightly. 
 
 " Yes, yes," muttered he ; "I thought I knew his per- 
 son ; I even fancied I knew his voice. Unlucky wretch 
 that I am ! Oh, Sire, pardon me ! I thought I had so 
 successfully steered my bark." 
 
 " There is nothing ill in it, Monsieur," said the king, 
 " except that the general accuses me of having laid a 
 snare for him, which is not the case. No, General, those 
 are not the arms which I contemplated employing with 
 you, as you will soon see. In the mean while, when I give 
 you my word upon the honor of a gentleman, believe me, 
 Monsieur, believe me ! Now, M. d'Artagnan, a word 
 with you, if you please." 
 
 " I listen on my knees, Sire." 
 
 " You are truly at my service, are you not % " 
 
D'ARTAGNAN'S FEARS. 
 
 293 
 
 " Your Majesty has seen that I am, — too much so." 
 
 " That is well ; from a man like you one word suffices. 
 In addition to that 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. went out, Monk following him ; D'Artagnan 
 followed Monk. Charles took the path by which D'Ar- 
 tagnan had come to his abode ; the fresh sea-breezes soon 
 saluted the faces of the three nocturnal travellers, and, at 
 fifty paces from the little gate which Charles opened, they 
 found themselves upon the dune in face of the ocean, 
 which, having ceased to rise, reposed upon the shore like 
 a monster fatigued. Charles II. walked along pensively, 
 his head hanging down and his hand beneath his cloak. 
 Monk followed him, with crossed arms and an uneasy 
 look. D'Artagnan came last, with his hand on the hilt 
 of his sword. 
 
 " Where is the boat in which you came, gentlemen 1 " 
 said Charles to the musketeer. 
 
 Yonder, Sire ; I have seven men and an officer 
 waiting for me in that little boat which is lighted by 
 a fire." 
 
 " Yes, I see ; the boat is drawn up upon the sand. But 
 you certainly did not come from Newcastle in that frail 
 barkr' 
 
 No, Sire ; I hired a felucca on my own account, which 
 is at anchor within cannon shot of the dunes. It was in 
 that felucca we made the voyage." 
 
 " Monsieur," said the king to Monk, *'you are free." 
 
 However firm of will. Monk could not suppress an ex- 
 clamation. The king added an affirmative motion of his 
 head, and continued : We will waken a fisherman of the 
 village, who will put his boat to sea immediately, and will 
 
294 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 take you back to any place you may command him. M. 
 d'Artagnan here will escort your Honor. I place M. d'Ar- 
 tagnan under the safeguard of your loyalty, M. Monk." 
 
 Monk allowed a murmur of surprise to escape him, and 
 D'Artagnan a profound sigh. The king, without appear- 
 ing to notice either, knocked against the deal trellis which 
 enclosed the cabin of the principal fisherman inhabiting 
 the dune. 
 
 Holloa ! Keyser ! " cried he, " awake ! " 
 ^^Who calls meV^ asked the fisherman. 
 *^ I, — Charles, the king." 
 
 " Ah ! my Lord," cried Keyser, rising ready dressed 
 from the sail in which he slept as people sleep in a ham- 
 mock ; what can I do to serve you '? " 
 
 " Captain Keyser," said Charles, you must set sail im- 
 mediately. Here is a traveller who wishes to freight your 
 bark, and will pay you well ; use him well ; and the 
 king drew back a few steps to allow Monk to speak to the 
 fisherman. 
 
 " I wish to cross over into England," said Monk, who 
 spoke Dutch enough to make himself understood. 
 
 " This minute," said the captain, — " this very minute, 
 if you wish it." 
 
 " But will that be longT' said Monk. 
 
 " ^ot half an hour, your Honor. My eldest son is at 
 this moment preparing the boat, as we were going out 
 fishing at three o'clock in the morning." 
 
 " Well, is all arranged 1 " 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. 
 
D'ARTAGNAN'S FEARS. 
 
 295 
 
 " Very well, my Lord," replied Keyser ; and at that 
 moment they heard Keyser's eldest son^ signalUng from 
 the shore with the blast of a bulPs horn. 
 
 " Now, gentlemen,'^ said the king, " be gone ! " 
 
 " Sire," said D'Artagnan, " will it please your Majesty 
 to grant me a few minutes ? I have engaged men, and I 
 am going without them ; I must give them notice." 
 
 " Whistle to them," said Charles, smiling. 
 
 D'Artagnan accordingly whistled, while Captain Key- 
 ser replied to his son ; and four men, led by Menneville, 
 attended the first summons. 
 
 " Here is some money on account," said D'Artagnan, 
 putting into their hands a purse containing twenty -five 
 hundred livres in gold. " Go and wait for me at Calais ; 
 you know where ; " and D'Artagnan heaved a pro- 
 found sigh as he let the j)urse fall into the hands of 
 Menneville. 
 
 "What ! are you leaving usl" cried the men. 
 For a short time," said D'Artagnan, or for a long 
 time, who knows ? But with twenty-five hundred livres, 
 and the twenty-five hundred you have already received, 
 you are paid according to our agreement. We are quits, 
 then, my friends." 
 
 "But the boat 1" 
 
 " Do not trouble yourself about that." 
 " Our things are on board the felucca." 
 " Go and seek them, and afterwards set off imme- 
 diately." 
 
 "Yes, Captain." 
 
 D'Artagnan returned to Monk, saying, " Monsieur, I 
 aw^ait your orders ; for I understand we are to go together, 
 unless my company be disagreeable to you." 
 
 " On the contrary, Monsieur," said Monk. 
 
 " Come, gentlemen, on board," said Keyser's son. 
 
296 
 
 THE VICOx\lTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Charles bowed to the general with grace and dignity, 
 saying, " You will pardon me this unfortunate accident, 
 and the violence to which you have been subjected, when 
 you are convinced that I was not the cause of them." 
 
 Monk bowed profoundly without replying. On his side 
 Charles affected not to say a word to D'Artagnan in pri- 
 vate, but aloud : Once more, thanks, Monsieur the 
 Chevalier," said he, "thanks for your services. They will 
 be repaid you by the Lord God, who, I hope, reserves for 
 me alone trials and troubles." 
 
 Monk followed Keyser and his son, and embarked with 
 them. D'Artagnan came after, muttering to himself, 
 " Ah, my poor Planchet ! T am very much afraid we 
 have made a bad speculation." 
 
THE SHARES OF THE COMPANY BISE AGAIN. 297 
 
 CHAPTEE XXX. 
 
 THE SHARES OF PLANCHET AND COMPANY RISE AGAIN 
 TO PAR. 
 
 During the passage Monk spoke to D'Artagnan only in 
 cases of urgent necessity. Thus, when the Frenchman 
 hesitated to come and take his repast, — a poor repast com- 
 posed of salt fish, biscuit^ and Hollands gin, — Monk called 
 him, saying, To table, Monsieur!" This was all. D'Ar- 
 tagnan, because he himself was on all grea,t occasions 
 extremely concise, did not draw from the general's con- 
 ciseness a favorable augury of the result of his mission. 
 Now, as he had plenty of time for reflection, he battered 
 his brains during this time in endeavoring to find out 
 how Athos had seen King Charles, how he had planned 
 with him that expedition, and lastly, how he had entered 
 Monk's camp ; and the poor lieutenant of Musketeers 
 plucked a hair from his mustache every time he reflected 
 that the cavalier who accompanied Monk on the night of 
 the famous abduction must have been Athos. At length, 
 after a passage of two nights and two days. Captain 
 Keyser touched the point where Monk, who had given 
 all orders during the voyage, had commanded they should 
 land. It was exactly at the mouth of the little river 
 near which Athos had chosen his abode. Day was de- 
 clining; a splendid sun, like a red steel buckler, was 
 plunging the lower extremity of his disk under the blue 
 line of the sea. The felucca was making fair way up 
 the river, tolerably wide in that part; bat Monk^ in his 
 
298 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 impatience, desired to be landed, and Keyser's boat placed 
 him and D'Artagnan upon the muddy bank, amidst the 
 reeds. D'Artagnan, resigned to obedience, followed Monk 
 exactly as a chained bear follows his master; but the 
 position humiliated him not a little, and he grumbled to 
 himself that the service of kings was a bitter one, and 
 that the best of them was good for nothing. Monk 
 walked with long and hasty strides ; it might be thought 
 that he did not yet feel certain of having regained Eng- 
 lish soil. They had already begun to perceive distinctly 
 a few of the cottages of the sailors and fishermen spread 
 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 that there was, in 
 fact, a house which the flames were beginning to devour. 
 It had begun at a little shed belonging to the house, the 
 roof of which it had seized upon. The fresh evening- 
 breeze increased the flame. The two travellers quickened 
 their steps, hearing loud cries, and seeing, as they drew 
 nearer, soldiers with their glittering arms pointing to- 
 wards the house on fire. It was, doubtless, this men- 
 acing occupation which had made them neglect to signal 
 the felucca. Monk stopped short for an instant, and for 
 the first time formulated his thoughts in words. *'Eh ! 
 but," said he, perhaps they are not my soldiers, but 
 Lambert's." 
 
 These words contained at once a pain^ an apprehension, 
 and a reproach perfectly intelligible to D'Artagnan. In 
 fact, during the general's absence, Lambert might have 
 given battle, conquered, and dispersed the Parliament's 
 army, and taken with his own the place of Monk's army, 
 deprived of its strongest support. At this doubt, which 
 passed from the mind of Monk to his own, D'Artagnan 
 
THE SHARES OF THE COMPANY RISE AGAIN. 299 
 
 made this reasoning : " One of two things is going to 
 happen : either Monk has spoken correctly, and there are 
 no longer any but Lambertists in the country, — that is 
 to say, enemies who would receive me wonderfully well, 
 since it is to me they owe their victory, — or nothing is 
 changed, and Monk, transported with joy at finding his 
 camp still in the same place, will not prove too severe 
 in his reprisals.'* While thinking thus, the two travel- 
 lers advanced, and found themselves surrounded by a 
 little knot of sailors, who looked on with sorrow at the 
 burning house, but did not dare to say anything, on 
 account of the menaces of the soldiers. Monk ad- 
 dressed one of these sailors. " What is going on here 1 
 asked he. 
 
 " Monsieur," replied the man, not recognizing Monk as 
 an officer, under the thick cloak which enveloped him, 
 " that house was inhabited by a foreigner, and this for- 
 eigner became suspected by the soldiers. Then they 
 wanted to get into his house under the pretence of taking 
 him to the camp ; but he, without being frightened by 
 their numbers, threatened death to the first who should 
 cross the threshold of his door ; and as there was one 
 who did venture, the Frenchman stretched him on the 
 earth with a pistol-shot." 
 
 ^^Ah! he is a Frenchman, is he ^ " said D'Artagnan, 
 rubbing his hands. Good ! " 
 
 " How good 1 " replied the fishermen. 
 No, I don't mean that. Next ] — my tongue tripped." 
 
 " Next, Monsieur 1 Why, the other men became as 
 enraged as so many lions ; they fired more than a hun- 
 dred shots at the house ; but the Frenchman was shel- 
 tered by the wall, and every time they tried to enter by 
 the door they met with a shot from his lackey, whose 
 aim is deadly, d' ye see 1 Every time they threatened the 
 
300 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 window, they met with a pistol-shot from the master. 
 Look and count ; there are seven men down." 
 
 ^' Ah ! my brave compatriot," cried D'Artagnan, wait 
 a Httle, wait a little. I will be with you ; and we will 
 give an account of all this rabble." 
 
 ^'One instant, Monsiem-," said Monk; "wait." 
 
 " Long 1 " 
 
 No ; only time to ask a question." Then, turn- 
 ing towards the sailor, "My friend," asked he, with 
 an emotion which, in spite of all his self-command, he 
 could not conceal, "whose soldiers are these, pray tell 
 me 
 
 "Whose should they be but that madman Monk's?" 
 
 " There has been no battle, then 1 " 
 
 " A battle, yes ! but with what result 1 Lambert's army 
 is melting away like snow in April. All come to Monk, 
 officers and soldiers. In a week Lambert won't have 
 fifty men left." 
 
 The fisherman was interrupted by a fresh salvo of mus- 
 ketry discharged against the house, and by another pistol- 
 shot which replied to the salvo, and struck down the 
 most daring of the aggressors. The rage of the soldiers 
 was at its height. The fire still continued to increase, 
 and a crest of flame and smoke whirled and spread over 
 the roof of the house. D'Artagnan could no longer con- 
 tain himself. Mordioux ! said he to Monk, glancing 
 at him sideways ; " are you a general, and allow your 
 men to burn houses and assassinate people, while you 
 look on and warm your hands at the blaze of the confla- 
 gration ? Mordioux I you are not a man." 
 
 " Patience, Monsieur, patience ! " said Monk, smiling. 
 
 " Patience ! yes, until that brave gentleman is roasted 
 — is that what you meanl" and D'Artagnan rushed 
 forward. 
 
THE SHARES OF THE COMPANY RISE AGAIN. 801 
 
 Remain where you are, Monsieur," said Monk, in a 
 tone of command ; and he advanced towards the house 
 just as an officer had approached it, who said to the be- 
 sieged : " The house is burning ; you will be grilled within 
 an hour ! There is still time, — come, tell us what you 
 know of General Monk, and we will spare your life. Ee- 
 ply, or by St. Patrick — " 
 
 The besieged made no answer ; he was no doubt reload- 
 ing his pistol. 
 
 They have gone for reinforcements," continued the 
 officer ; " in a quarter of an hour there will be a hundred 
 men round your house." 
 
 I reply to you ! " said the Frenchman. " Let your 
 men be sent away ; I will come out freely and repair to 
 the camp alone, or else I will be killed here ! " 
 
 " Mille tonnerres ! " shouted D'Artagnan ; " why, that 's 
 the voice of Athos ! Ah, villains ! " and the sword of 
 D'Artagnan flamed from its sheath. 
 
 Monk stopped him, and advanced himself, exclaiming, 
 in a sonorous voice : " Holloa ! what is going on here ] 
 Digby, whence is 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 1 " said 
 Monk, in a calm tone. Then, silence being re-established, 
 " Now," said he, " who lit this fire 1 " 
 
 The soldiers hung down their heads. 
 What ! do I ask a question and nobody answers me 1" 
 said Monk. " What ! do I find a fault, and nobody re- 
 pairs it % The fire is still burning, I believe." 
 
 Immediately the twenty men rushed forward, seizing 
 pails, buckets, jars, barrels, and extinguishing the fire 
 with as much ardor as they had, an instant before. 
 
302 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 employed in promoting it. But already, and before all 
 the rest, D'Artagnan had applied a ladder to the house, 
 crying, " Athos ! it is I, it is I, D'Artagnan ! Do not 
 kill me, dear friend ! " and in a moment the count was 
 clasped in his arms. 
 
 In the mean time Grimaud, preserving his calm air, 
 dismantled the fortification of the ground floor, and after 
 having opened the door, stood, with his arms crossed, 
 quietly on the threshold. Only, at hearing the voice of 
 D'Artagnan, he had uttered an exclamjition of surprise. 
 The fire being extinguished, the soldiers presented them- 
 selves abashed, Digby at their head. 
 
 "General," said he, "excuse ns ; what we have done 
 was for the love of your Honor, whom we thought lost." 
 
 " You are mad, gentlemen. Lost ! Is a man like me 
 to be lost 1 Am I not, by chance, to be permitted to be 
 absent, according to my pleasure, without giving formal 
 notice 1 Do you, by chance, take me for a citizen from 
 the city 1 Is a gentleman, my friend, my guest, to be be- 
 sieged, entrapped, and threatened with death because he 
 is suspected 1 What signifies that word, * suspected"? God 
 damn me if I don't have every one of you shot that the 
 brave gentleman has left alive ! " 
 
 " General," said Digby, piteously, " there were twenty- 
 eight of us ; and see, there are eight on the ground." 
 
 "I authorize M. le Comte de la Fere to send the 
 twenty to join the eight," said Monk, stretching out 
 his hand to Athos. " Let them return to camp. M. 
 Digby, you will consider yourself under arrest for a 
 month." 
 
 " General — " 
 
 " That is to teach you. Monsieur, not to act another 
 time without orders." 
 
 " I had these of the lieutenant, General." 
 
THE SHARES OF THE COMPANY RISE AGAIN. 303 
 
 " The lieutenant has no such orders to give you ; and he 
 shall be placed under arrest, instead of you, if he has 
 really commanded you to burn this gentleman." 
 
 ^^He did not command that. General; he commanded 
 us to bring him to the camp ; but the count was not will- 
 ing to follow us." 
 
 " I was not willing that they should enter and plunder 
 my house," said Athos to Monk, with a significant look. 
 
 And you were quite right. — To the camp, I sa}^" 
 The soldiers departed with dejected looks. " Now we are 
 alone," said Monk to Athos, have the goodness to tell 
 me, Monsieur, why you persisted in remaining here while 
 you had your felucca — " 
 
 I waited for you. General," said Athos. " Had not 
 your Honor appointed me a meeting in a week % " 
 
 An eloquent look from D'Artagnan made it clear to 
 Monk that these two men, so brave and so loyal, had not 
 acted in concert for his abduction. He knew already that 
 it could not be so. 
 
 " Monsieur," said he to D'Artagnan, you were per- 
 fectly right. Have the kindness to allow me a moment's 
 conversation with M. le Comte de la Fere." 
 
 D'Artagnan took advantage of this to go and ask 
 Grimaud how he did. Monk requested Athos to conduct 
 him to the chamber he lived in. 
 
 This chamber was still full of smoke and rubbish. 
 More than fifty balls had passed through the windows 
 and mutilated the walls. They found a table, inkstand, 
 and materials for writing. Monk took up a pen, wrote a 
 single line, signed it, folded the paper, sealed the let- 
 ter with the seal of his ring, and passed over the missive 
 to Athos, saying, " Monsieur, carry, if you please, this 
 letter to King Charles II., and set out immediately, if 
 nothing detains you here any longer." 
 
304 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " And the casks 1 " said Athos. 
 
 ^' The fisherman who brought me hither will assist you 
 in transporting them on board. Be gone, if possible, 
 within an hour." 
 
 " Yes, General," said Athos. 
 
 " M. d'Artagnan ! " cried Monk, from the window. 
 
 D'Artagnan ran up precipitately. Embrace your friend 
 
 and bid him adieu, Monsieur; he is returning to Holland." 
 " To Holland ! " cried D'Artagnan ; " and 1 1 " 
 " You are at liberty to follow^ him, Monsieur ; but I 
 
 request you to remain," said Monk. Will you refuse 
 
 mer' 
 
 '^Oh no. General ; I am at your orders." 
 
 D'Artagnan embraced Athos, and had only time to bid 
 him adieu. Monk watched them both. Then he took 
 upon himself the preparations for the departure, the 
 carrying of the casks on board, and the embarkation of 
 Athos; then, taking D'Artagnan by the arm, who was 
 quite amazed and agitated, he led him towards Newcastle. 
 While going along, arm in arm vv^ith Monk, D'Artagnan 
 could not help murmuring to himself, " Come, come, it 
 seems to me that the shares of the house of Planchet & 
 Co. are rising." 
 
MONK REVEALS HIMSELF. 
 
 305 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 MONK REVEALS HIMSELF. 
 
 D'Artagnan, although he flattered himself with better 
 success, had, nevertheless, not too well comprehended his 
 situation. It was a strange and grave subject for him to 
 reflect upon, — this voyage of Athos into England; this 
 league of the king with Athos, and that extraordinarj^ 
 combination of his design with that of the Comte de la 
 Fere. The best way was to let things follow their own 
 train. An imprudence had been committed ; and while 
 having succeeded as he had promised, D'Artagnan found 
 that he had gained no advantage by his success. Since 
 everything was lost, he could risk no more. D'Artagnan 
 followed Monk to the middle of his camp. The return 
 of the general had produced a marvellous effect, for his 
 people had thought him lost. But Monk, with his austere 
 look and icy demeanor, appeared to ask of his eager lieu- 
 tenants and delighted soldiers the cause of all this joy. 
 Therefore to the lieutenant who had come to meet him, 
 and who expressed the uneasiness with which they had 
 learned his departure, ^' Why is all this'? " said he; am 
 I obliged to render an account of myself to you 1 " 
 
 " But, your Honor, the sheep may well tremble without 
 the shepherd." 
 
 Tremble !" replied Monk, with his calm and power- 
 ful voice ; "ah, Monsieur, what a word ! Curse me ! if rny 
 sheep have not both teeth and claws, I renounce being 
 their shepherd. Ah ! you tremble, Monsieur ! " 
 
 VOL. I. — 20 
 
306 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 "Yes, General, for you." 
 
 " Oh, pray meddle with your own concerns ! If I have 
 not the wit God gave to Oliver Cromwell, I have that 
 which he has sent to me ; I am satisfied with it, however 
 little it may be." 
 
 The officer made no reply ; and. Monk having imposed 
 silence on his people, all remained persuaded that he had 
 accomplished some important work, or had tried an ex- 
 periment upon them. This was forming a very poor con- 
 ception of his patient and scrupulous genius. Monk, if 
 he had the good faith of the Puritans, his allies, must 
 have returned thanks with much fervor to the patron 
 saint who had taken him from the box of M. d'Artagnan. 
 
 While these things were going on, our musketeer could 
 not help constantly repeating : " God grant that M. Monk 
 may not have as much self-love as I have : for I declare, 
 if any one had put me into a box with that grating over 
 my mouth, and carried me so packed up, like a calf, across 
 the seas, I should retain such an ill remembrance of my 
 pitiful appearance in that box, and such a deadly hatred 
 against him who had enclosed me in it, — I should so much 
 dread to see a sarcastic smile blooming upon the face of 
 the malicious wretch, or in his attitude some grotesque 
 imitation of my position in the box, — that, mordioux ! I 
 should plunge a good poniard into his throat in com- 
 pensation of the grating, and should nail him down in 
 a veritable bier, in remembrance of the false coffin in 
 which I had been left two days to gather mould." And 
 D'Artagnan spoke honestly when he spoke thus ; for the 
 skin of our Gascon was very thin. Monk, fortunately, 
 entertained other ideas. He never opened his mouth 
 concerning the past to his timid conqueror; but he 
 admitted him very near to his person in his labors, took 
 him with him to several reconnoissances, in such a way as 
 
MONK REVEALS HIMSELF. 
 
 307 
 
 to obtain that which he evidently warmly desired, — a 
 rehabilitation in the mind of D'Artagnan. The latter 
 conducted himself like a passed master in the art of 
 flattery : he admired all Monk's tactics, and the ordering 
 of his camp ; he joked very pleasantly upon the circum- 
 vallations of Lambert, who had, he said, very uselessly 
 given himself the trouble to enclose a camp for twenty 
 thousand men, while an acre of ground would have been 
 quite sufficient for the corporal and fifty guards who would 
 perhaps remain faithful to him. Monk, immediately after 
 his arrival, had accepted the proposition which was made 
 by Lambert, the evening before, for an interview, and 
 which Monk's lieutenants had refused, under the pre- 
 text that the general was indisposed. This interview 
 was neither long nor interesting. Lambert demanded a 
 profession of faith of his rivah The latter declared he 
 had no other opinion but that of the majority. Lambert 
 asked if it would not be more expedient to terminate 
 the quarrel by an alliance than by a battle. Monk there- 
 upon required a week for consideration. Now, Lambert 
 could not refuse this ; even though he had come saying 
 that he should devour the army of Monk. Therefore, as 
 at the end of the interview, which Lambert's party awaited 
 with impatience, nothing was decided, — neither treaty 
 nor battle, — the rebel army, as M. d'Artagnan had fore- 
 seen, began to prefer the good cause to the bad one, and 
 the Parliament, Eump " though it was, to the pompous 
 nothings of the designs of Lambert. They remembered, 
 likewise, the good repasts of London, — the profusion of 
 ale and sherry with which the citizens of London paid 
 their friends the soldiers ; they looked with terror at the 
 black war bread, at the troubled waters of the Tweed, — 
 too salt for the glass, not enough so for the pot; and they 
 said to themselves, " Shall we not be better off on the 
 
308 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 other side 1 Are not the roast meats kept warm for Monk 
 in London ? " From that time nothing but desertion was 
 heard of in Lambert's army. The soldiers allowed them- 
 selves to be drawn away by the force of principles, which 
 are, like discipline, the obligatory tie in everybody con- 
 stituted for any purpose. Monk defended the Parliament ; 
 Lambert attacked it. Monk had no more inclination to 
 support the Parliament than Lambert had ; but he had 
 it inscribed upon his standards, so that all those of the 
 contrary party were reduced to write upon theirs, " Re- 
 bellion," which sounded ill in Puritan ears. They flocked, 
 then, from Lambert to Monk, as sinners flock from Baal 
 to God. 
 
 Monk made his calculations : at a thousand desertions 
 a day Lambert had men enough to last twenty days ; but 
 there is in falling masses such increase at once of weight 
 and rapidity of motion, that a hundred left the first day, 
 five hundred the second, a thousand the third. Monk 
 thought he had obtained his rate. But from a thousand 
 the desertion passed quickly on to two thousand, then to 
 four thousand ; and, eight days after, Lambert, perceiving 
 that he had no longer the possibility of accepting battle, 
 if it were offered to him, took the wise resolution of de- 
 camping during the night, to return to London, and be 
 beforehand with Monk in constructing a power with the 
 wreck of the military party. But Monk, free and with- 
 out inquietude, marched towards London as a conqueror, 
 augmenting his army from all the floating parties on his 
 passage. He encamped at Barnet, — that is to say, within 
 four leagues of the capital, — cherished by the Parliament, 
 which thought it beheld in him a protector, and looked 
 for by the people, who were anxious to see him reveal 
 himself, that they might judge him. D'Artagnan him- 
 self had not been able to fathom his tactics : he observed. 
 
MONK REVEALS HIMSELF. 
 
 309 
 
 he admired. Monk could not enter London with a set- 
 tled determination without encountering civil war. He 
 temporized for a short time. Suddenly, without any- 
 body expecting it, Monk drove the military party out of 
 London, and installed himself in the city amidst the citi- 
 zens, by order of the Parliament ; then, at the moment 
 when the citizens were crying out against Monk, — at the 
 moment when the soldiers themselves were accusing their 
 leader, — Monk, finding himself certain of a majority, de- 
 clared to the Rump Parliament that it must abdicate, 
 be dissolved, and yield its place to a government which 
 would not be a joke. Monk pronounced this declaration, 
 supported by fifty thousand swords, to which, that same 
 evening, were united, with hurrahs of delirious joy, five 
 hundred thousand inhabitants of the good city of Lon- 
 don. At length, at the moment when the people, after 
 their triumphs and festive repasts in the open streets, 
 were looking about for a master, it w-as affirmed that 
 a vessel had left the Hague, bearing Charles IL and his 
 fortunes. 
 
 Gentlemen," said Monk to his officers, " I am go- 
 ing to meet the legitimate king. He who loves me 
 will follow me." A burst of acclamations welcomed 
 these words, which D'Artagnan heard with the greatest 
 delight. 
 
 ^' Mordioux ! said he to Monk, that is bold, Mon- 
 sieur." 
 
 " You will accompany me, will you not ? said Monk. 
 
 Pardieu ! General. But tell me, I beg, what you 
 wrote by Athos, — that is to say, the Comte de la Fere, 
 — you know, — the day of our arrival % " 
 
 I have no secrets for you now," replied Monk. " I 
 wrote these w^ords : * Sire, I expect your Majesty in six 
 weeks at Dover.' " 
 
810 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Ah ! " said D'x4rtagnan, " I no longer say it is bold ; 
 I say it is well played, it is a fine stroke ! " 
 
 "Yon are something of a judge in snch matters," re- 
 plied Monk. 
 
 And this was the only time the general ever made an 
 allusion to his voyage to Holland. 
 
ATHOS Am D'ARTAGNAN MEET ONCE MOEE. 311 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 ATHOS AND d'aRTAGNAN MEET ONCE MORE AT THE HOS- 
 TELRY OF THE stag's HORN. 
 
 The King of England made his entree into Dover with 
 great pomp, as he afterwards did into London. He had 
 sent for his brothers ; he had brought over his mother 
 and sister. England had been for so long a time given 
 up to herself, — that is to say, to tyranny, mediocrity, and 
 madness, — that this return of Charles XL, whom the Eng- 
 lish only knew as the son of the man whose head they 
 had cut off, was a festival for the three kingdoms. Con- 
 sequently, all the vows, all the acclamations, which ac- 
 companied his return, struck the young king so forcibly, 
 that he stooped towards the ear of James of York, his 
 younger brother, and said, In truth, James, it appears 
 to have been our own fault that we were so long absent 
 from a country where we are so much beloved ! " The 
 cortege was magnificent. Beautiful weather favored the 
 solemnity. Charles had regained all his youth, all his 
 good humor ; he appeared to be transfigured ; hearts 
 seemed to smile upon him like the sun. Amid this ob- 
 streperous crowd of courtiers and worshippers, who did 
 not appear to remember they had conducted to the scaf- 
 fold at Whitehall the father of the new^ king, a man, ir 
 the garb of a lieutenant of Musketeers, looked, with a 
 smile upon his thin, intellectual lips, sometimes at the 
 people vociferating their good wishes, and sometimes at 
 the prince, who pretended emotion, and who bowed most 
 
312 THE VICOiMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 particularly to the women, whose bouquets were strewed 
 before his horse's feet. *^ What a fine trade is that of a 
 king ! " said this man, drawn away by his contemplation, 
 and so completely absorbed that he stopped in the middle 
 of the road, leaving the cortege to file past. ^' Now, there 
 is, in good truth, a prince all stitched over with gold and 
 diamonds like a Solomon, enamelled w^ith flowers like a 
 spring meadow ; he is about to draw with full hands from 
 the immense coffer in which his now^ faithful — so lately 
 unfaithful — subjects have amassed one or two cart-loads 
 of ingots of gold. They cast bouquets enough upon him 
 to smother him ; and yet, if he had presented himself to 
 them two months ago, they W'Ould have sent as many 
 bullets and balls at him as they now throw flowers. De- 
 cidedly it is worth something to be born in a certain 
 fashion, — with deference to those of low birth who claim 
 that low birth is of little consequence." The cortege con- 
 tinued to file on ; and, with the king, the acclamations 
 began to die away in the direction of the palace, which, 
 however, did not prevent our ofificer from being shoved 
 about. 
 
 Mordioiix ! " continued the reasoner, these people 
 tread upon my toes and look 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 these 
 people were asked, ' Who is M. d'Artagnan % ' they w^ould 
 reply, ^ Nescio vos,^ But let any one say to them, 
 ' There is the king going by ; there is M. Monk going 
 by,' they would yell out, ' Vive le roi ! Vive M. Monk ! ' 
 till their lungs were exhausted. And yet," continued he, 
 surveying the moving crowd w^ith that look sometimes 
 so keen and sometimes so proud, — and yet, reflect 
 a little, my good people, on what your king has done, on 
 what M. Monk has done, and then think what has been 
 
ATHOS AND D'ARTAGNAN MEET ONCE MORE. 313 
 
 done by this poor unknown, who is called M. d'Artagnan ! 
 It is true you do not know him, since he is unknown ; 
 which perhaps prevents your thinking about the matter. 
 But, bah ! what matters it ! All that does not prevent 
 Charles II. from being a great king, although he has been 
 exiled twelve years ; or M. Monk from being a great cap- 
 tain, although he did make a voyage to Holland in a 
 box. Well, then, since it is admitted that one is a great 
 king and the other a great captain, — ' Hurrah for King 
 Charles II. ! Hurrah for General Monk ! ' " and his voice 
 mingled with the voices of the thousands of spectators, 
 over which it dominated for a moment. Then, the better 
 to play the devoted man, he took off his hat and waved 
 it in the air. Some one seized his arm in the very height 
 of his expansive loyalism (in 1660 that which we now 
 call royalism was so termed). 
 
 "Athos!" cried D'Artagnan, ^'you here!" and the 
 two friends embraced. 
 
 **You here! — and being here," continued the mus- 
 keteer, "you are not in the midst of all those courtiers, 
 my dear count ! What ! you, the hero of the fete^ you are 
 not prancing on the left hand of the king, as M. Monk is 
 prancing on the right 1 In truth, I cannot comprehend 
 your character, nor that of the prince who owes you so 
 much ! " 
 
 Still a railer ! my dear D'Artagnan ! " said Athos. 
 " Will you never correct yourself of that vile habit % " 
 
 " But you do not form part of the cortege 
 
 " 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 rep- 
 resentative of the King of France ; and it does not become 
 me to exhibit myself thus near the person of another 
 king than the one God has given me for a master." 
 
314 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Mordioux I 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 because it was my duty to do it. But you 
 know I hate all ostentation. Let King Charles IL, then, 
 who no longer stands in need of me, leave me to my re- 
 pose and in the shade ; that is all I claim of him." 
 
 D'Artagnan sighed. 
 
 " What is the matter with you 1 " said Athos. " One 
 would say that this happy return of the king to London 
 saddens you, my friend, — you who have done at least as 
 much for his Majesty as I have." 
 
 " Have I not," replied D'Artagnan, w^ith his Gascon 
 laugh, — " have I not done much for his Majesty, without 
 any one suspecting it 1 " 
 
 " 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 did not suspect so, and I was even^ a mo- 
 ment ago, trying to forget it myself." 
 
 But he, my friend, wall not forget it ; I will answer for 
 him." 
 
 You tell me that to console me a little, Athos." 
 "For whatr' 
 
 " Mordioux I for the loss of all the money I have spent. 
 I have ruined myself, my friend, — ruined myself for the 
 restoration of this young prince who has just passed, 
 capering upon his dun horse." 
 
 " The king does not know you have ruined yourself, my 
 friend; but he knows he owes you much." 
 
 " And say, Athos, does that advance me in any re- 
 spect ] I do you justice, — you have labored nobly ; but 
 
ATHOS AND D'ARTAGNAN MEET ONCE MORE. 315 
 
 I — T, who in appearance marred your combinations, — it 
 was I who really made them succeed. Follow my calcu- 
 lations closely : you might not, by persuasion or mildness, 
 have convinced General Monk, w^hile I have so roughly 
 treated this dear general, that I furnished your prince 
 with an opportunity of showing himself generous ; this 
 generosity was inspired in him by the fact of my fortu- 
 nate mistake, and Charles is paid by the restoration which 
 Monk has brought 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 noticed by M. 
 Monk, who calls me ' My dear captain ' all day long, al- 
 though I am neither dear to him nor a captain ; and 
 strongly appreciated by the king, who has already forgotten 
 my name, — it is not less true, I say, that I shall re- 
 turn to my beautiful country, cursed by the soldiers I 
 had raised with promise of large pay, cursed by the 
 brave Planchet, of whom I borrowed a part of his 
 fortune." 
 
 '^How is that] What the devil had Planchet to do in 
 all this]" 
 
 " Ay, yes, my friend. 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 re-conquered him, 
 he himself fancies he has negotiated so as to be restored ; 
 and yet nothing 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 is gran- 
 deur ! * A^anity ! ' says the Scripture, ' vanity, all is 
 vanity.' " 
 
316 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Athos could not help laughing at this whimsical out- 
 break of his friend, 
 
 "My dear D'Artagnan," said he, pressing his hand 
 affectionately, " should you not exercise a little more 
 philosophy 1 Is it not some further satisfaction to you to 
 have saved my life as you did by arriving so fortunately 
 with Monk, when those damned parliamentarians wanted 
 to burn me alive 1 " 
 
 " Well, but you, in some degree, deserved burning a 
 little, my dear count." 
 
 " How so 1 — for having saved King Charles's million " 
 
 " What million 1 " 
 
 " Ah, that is true ! you never knew that, my friend ; 
 but you must not be angry, for it was not my secret. 
 That word ^ Remember ' which the king pronounced upon 
 the scaffold — " 
 
 " And which means Souviens-toi I " 
 Exactly. It meant this : ^ Remember there is a mil- 
 lion buried in the vaults of Newcastle Abbey, and that 
 that million belongs to my son.' " 
 
 " Ah ! very well, I understand. But what I understand 
 likewise, and what is very frightful is, that every time his 
 Majesty Charles II. will think of me, he will say to him- 
 self : ' There is the man who was near making me lose 
 my crown. Fortunately I was generous, great, full of 
 presence of mind.' This is what the young gentleman in 
 a shabby black doublet will say, who came to the chateau 
 of Blois, hat in hand, to ask me if I would grant him 
 access to the King of France."' 
 
 " D'Artagnan ! D'x^rtagnan ! " said Athos, laying his 
 hand on the shoulder of the musketeer, " you are unjust." 
 
 " I am right." 
 
 " No ; for you are ignorant of the future." 
 D'Artagnan looked his friend full in the face, and began 
 
ATHOS AND D'ARTAGNAN MEET ONCE MORE. 317 
 
 to laugh. "In truth, my dear Athos," said he, "you 
 speak some words so superb, that they belong only to you 
 and M. le Cardinal Mazarin." 
 Athos made a movement. 
 
 " I beg your pardon/' continued D'Artagnan, laughing, — 
 " I beg your pardon, if I have offended you. The future ! 
 Bah ! Words that promise are pretty words, and how 
 well they fill the mouth in default of other things ! Mor- 
 dioux ! After having met with so many who promise, 
 when shall I find one who gives 1 But let that pass ! " 
 continued D'Artagnan. " What are you doing here, my 
 dear Athos ? Are you king's treasurer ] " 
 
 " What ! — 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 an intend ant of finance, M. Fou- 
 quet. It is true that, in exchange, M. Fouquet has a 
 good number of millions of his own." 
 
 " Oh ! our million is spent long ago/' said Athos, laugh- 
 ing 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 princesses stood in great need of tailors 
 and dressmakers. Eh ! Athos, do you remember what we 
 fellows expended in equipping ourselves for the cam- 
 paign of La Rochelle, and to make our appearance on 
 horseback 1 Two or three thousand livres, by my 
 faith ! But a king's robe is more ample ; it w^ould re- 
 quire a million to purchase the stuff. At least, Athos, 
 if you are not treasurer, 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 1 " 
 
318 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Xo ! 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 he alone knew how to make, "that is 
 enough to make me recover my love for Monseigneur 
 Giulio Mazarini. What, Athos ! the king has not seen 
 you since 1 
 
 '^No." 
 
 " And you are not furious 
 
 "' I ! — why should I be '? Do you imagine, my dear 
 D'Artagnan, that it was on the king's account I acted as 
 I have done % I did not know the young man. I de- 
 fended the father, who represented a principle sacred 
 in my eyes, and I allowed myself to be drawn towards 
 the son by a sympathy for this same principle. Besides, 
 he was a worthy knight, a noble mortal creature, that 
 father ; do you remember him % " 
 
 Yes, that is true ; he was a brave, an excellent man, 
 who led a sad life, but made a fine end." 
 
 Well, my dear D'Artagnan, understand this : to that 
 king, to that man of 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 deposit which was to be 
 transmitted to his son, to assist him at his need. This 
 young man came to me ; he described his destitution ; 
 he was unaware that I was anything to him but a liv- 
 ing souvenir of his father. I have accomplished for 
 Charles II. what I promised Charles I. ; that is all. Of 
 what consequence is it to me, then, whether he be grate- 
 ful or not % It is to myself I have rendered a service, by 
 relieving myself of this responsibility, and not to him." 
 
 W^ell, I have always said," replied D'Artagnan, with 
 
ATHOS AND D'ARTAGNAN MEET ONCE MORE. 319 
 
 a sigh, " that disinterestedness is the finest thing in the 
 world." 
 
 "Well ; and you, my friend," resumed Athos, — "are 
 you not in the same situation as myself? If I have prop- 
 erly understood your words, you have allowed 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 a duty to fulfil, while you were under no obliga- 
 tion to the son of the martyr. You had not, on your 
 part, to pay him the price of that precious drop of blood 
 which he let fall upon my brow, through the floor of his 
 scaffold. That which made you act was heart alone, — 
 the noble and good heart which you possess beneath your 
 apparent scepticism and sarcastic irony ; you have de^ 
 voted the fortune of a servant, and your own, I suspect, 
 my benevolent miser ! and your sacrifice is not acknowl- 
 edged ! Of what consequence is if? You wish to repay 
 Planchet his money ? 1 can comprehend that, my friend ; 
 for it is not becoming in a gentleman to borrow of his 
 inferior, without returning him principal and interest. 
 Well, I wall sell La Fere, if necessary, and if not, some 
 little farm. You shall pay Planchet, and there will be 
 enough, believe me, of corn left in my granaries for us 
 two and Puaoul. In this way, my friend, you will owe an 
 obligation to nobody but yourself; and, if I know you 
 well, it will not be a small satisfaction to your mind, 
 to be able to say, ' I have made a .king ! ' Am I 
 right 1 " 
 
 " Athos ! Athos ! " murmured DArtagnan, thought- 
 fully, " I have told you more than once, that the day on 
 which you shall preach, I w^ill attend the sermon; the 
 day on w^hich you shall tell me there is a hell, mordioiix ! 
 I shall be afraid of the gridiron and the forks. You are 
 better than I, or rather, better than anybody ; and I only 
 
320 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 acknowledge the possession of one merit, and that is, of 
 not being jealous. Except that defect, God damn me, as 
 the English say, if I have not all the rest." 
 
 " I know nobody equal to D'Artagnan," replied Athos ; 
 " but here we are, arrived in good time at the house I 
 inhabit. Will you come in, my friend 1 " 
 
 Eh ! why, this is the Stag's Horn tavern, I think]" 
 said D'Artagnan. 
 
 I confess I chose it on purpose. I like old acquaint- 
 ances ; I like to sit down on that place whereon I sank, 
 overcome by flitigue, overwhelmed with despair, when you 
 returned on the 31st of Jannar}^" 
 
 " After having discovered the abode of the masked 
 executioner ? Yes, that was a terrible day ! " 
 
 *'Come in, then," said Athos, interrupting him. 
 
 They entered the large apartment, formerly the com- 
 mon 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 
 an innkeeper, had closed his shop, and made of this room 
 a warehouse for colonial provisions. As for the rest of 
 the house, he let it ready furnished to strangers. It 
 was with unspeakable emotion D'Artagnan recognized 
 all the furniture of the chamber of the first story, — 
 the wainscoting, the tapestries, and even that geographi- 
 cal chart which Porthos had so fondly studied in his 
 moments of leisure. 
 
 "It is eleven years ago," cried D'Artagnan. "i/or- 
 dioiix ! it appears to me a century ! " 
 
 "And to me but a day," said Athos. "Imagine the 
 joy I experience, my friend, in seeing you here, in press- 
 ing your hand, in casting from me sword and poniard, and 
 tasting without mistrust this glass of sherry. And, oh ! 
 what still further joy it w^ould be, if our two friends were 
 
ATHOS AND D'AETAGNAN MEET ONCE MORE. 321 
 
 there, at the two angles of the table, and Raoul, my 
 beloved Raoul, on the threshold, looking at us with his 
 large eyes, at once so brilliant and so soft ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes," said D'Artagnan, much affected, ^Hhat is 
 true. I approve particularly of the first part of your 
 thought ; it is very pleasant to smile here where we 
 have with so good reason shuddered at thinking that 
 from one moment to another M. Mordaunt might appear 
 upon the landing." 
 
 At this moment the door opened, and D'Artagnan, 
 brave as he was, could not 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. Tell me, 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 would stimulate the lazy 
 memory of the host by this remark. 
 
 "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 upon brass with strong swords ! there is 
 
 VOL. I. — 21 
 
322 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 something more rebellious, more hard, more forgetful 
 than iron, brass, or stone, and that is the aging brain of 
 the master of lodgings enriched by his trade. He does 
 not know me ! — well, I should have known him." 
 
 Athos, still smiling, unsealed his letter. " Ah ! " said 
 he, "a letter from Parrj." 
 
 Oh ! oh ! " said D'Artagnan, " read it, my friend, read 
 it ! It, no doubt, contains news." 
 
 Athos shook his head, and read : — 
 
 Monsieur the Count, — The king has experienced much 
 regret at not seeing you to-day, near him, at his entrance. 
 His Majesty commands me to say so, and to recall him to your 
 memory. His Majesty will expect you this evening, at the 
 palace of St. James, between nine and ten o'clock. 
 
 I am, with respect, Monsieur the Count, your Honor's very 
 humble and very obedient servant, Parry. 
 
 "You see, my dear D'Artagnan," said Athos, " we must 
 not despair of the hearts of kings." 
 
 " iN'ot despair ! you have reason to say so ! " replied 
 D'xlrtagnan. 
 
 " Oh ! my dear, very dear friend," resumed Athos, 
 whom the almost imperceptible bitterness of D'Artagnan 
 had not escaped. Pardon me ! can I have unintention- 
 ally wounded my best comrade'?" 
 
 You are mad, Athos, and to prove it I will conduct 
 you to the palace, — to the very gate, I mean ; the walk 
 will do me good." 
 
 "You will go in with me, my friend; I will speak to 
 his Majesty." 
 
 " No, no ! " replied D'Artagnan, with a true pride, free 
 from all mixture ; if there is anything w^orse than beg- 
 ging yourself, it is making others beg for you. Come, 
 let us go, my friend, the walk will be charming ; I will, 
 
ATHOS AND D'ARTAGNAN MEET ONCE MORE. 323 
 
 in passing, show you the house of M. Monk, who has de- 
 tained me with him. A beautiful house, by my faith ! 
 Being a general in England is better than being a mar- 
 shal in France, please to know." 
 
 Athos allowed himself to be led along, saddened by 
 DArtagnan's fictitious gayety. The whole city was in a 
 istate of joy ; the two friends were jostled at every mo- 
 ment by enthusiasts who required them, in their intoxi- 
 cation, to cry out, ''Long live good King Charles!' 
 DArtagnan replied by a grunt, and Athos by a smile. 
 They arrived thus in front of Monk's house, before which, 
 as we have said, they had to pass on their way to St. 
 James. Athos and D'Artagnan said but little on their 
 way, for the simple reason that they would have had so 
 many things to talk about if they had spoken. Athos 
 thought that by speaking he should evince satisfaction, 
 and that that might wound D'Artagnan. The latter feared 
 that in speaking he should allow some little acerbity to 
 steal into his words which would render his company un- 
 pleasant to his friend. It was a singular emulation of 
 silence between contentment and ill-humor. DArtagnan 
 gave way first to that itching at the tip of his tongue 
 which he so habitually experienced. 
 
 " Do you remember, Athos," said he, "the passage of 
 the * Memoires de D'Aubigny,' in which that devoted ser- 
 vant — a Gascon like myself, poor as myself, and, I wa.s 
 going to add, brave as myself — relates instances of the 
 meanness of Henry IV. 1 My father always told me, I 
 remember, that D'Aubigny was a liar. But, neverthe- 
 less, 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, my friend." 
 
 "Oh ! you are so perfect yourself, you never agree to 
 
324 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 the faults of others. But, in reality, Henry lY. was cove- 
 tous ; Louis XIII., his son, was so likewise, — we know 
 something of that, don't we ? Gaston carried this vice 
 to exaggeration, and has made himself, in this respect, 
 hated by all who surround him. Henriette, poor woman, 
 might well be avaricious, — she who did not eat every day, 
 and could not warm herself every winter ; and that is an 
 example she has given to her son Charles II., grandson 
 of the great Henry IV., who is as covetous as his mother 
 and his grandfather. See if I have well traced the gen- 
 ealogy of the misers ! 
 
 " D'Artagnan, my friend," cried Athos, "you are very 
 rude towards that eagle race called the Bourbons." 
 
 " Eh ! and I have forgotten the best instance of all, — 
 the other grandson of the Bearnais, Louis XI Y., my ex- 
 master. Well, I hope he is miserly enough, who would 
 not lend a million to his brother Charles! Good ! I see 
 you are beginning to be angry. Here we are, by good 
 luck, close to my 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 is cruel, in fact, to see a man of 
 your merit out of the position his services ought to have 
 acquired ; it appears to me, my dear friend, that your 
 name is as radiant as the greatest names in war and di- 
 plomacy. Tell me if the Luynes, the Bellegardes, and 
 the Bassompierres have merited, as we have, fortunes 
 and honors '? You are right, my friend, a hundred times 
 right." 
 
 D'Artagnan sighed, and preceding his friend under the 
 porch of the mansion Monk inhabited, at the extremity 
 of the city, ^' Permit me," said he, /'to leave my purse at 
 home ; for if in the crowd those clever pickpockets of 
 London, who are much boasted of even in Paris, were to 
 
ATHOS AND D'ARTAGNAN MEET ONCE MORE. 325 
 
 steal from me the remainder of my poor crowns, I sbonld 
 not be able to return to France. Jl^ow, content I left 
 France, and wild with joy I should return to it, seeing 
 that all my prejudices of former days against England 
 are returned, accompanied by many others." 
 Athos made no reply. 
 
 " So then, my dear friend, one second, and I will fol- 
 low you," said D'Artagnan. " I know you are in a hurry 
 to go yonder to receive your reward ; but, believe me, I 
 am not less eager to partake of your joy, although at a 
 distance. Wait for me ; " and D'Artagnan w^as already 
 passing through the vestibule, when a man, half servant, 
 half soldier, who filled in Monk's establishment the 
 double functions of porter and guard, stopped our mus 
 keteer, saying to him, in English, — 
 
 I beg your pardon, my Lord d'Artagnan ! " 
 
 " Well," replied the latter ; what is it 'I Is the general 
 going to dismiss me '] That only was wanting, — that I 
 should be expelled by him ! " 
 
 These words, spoken in French, made no impression 
 upon the person to whom they were addressed, and who 
 himself only spoke an English mixed with the rudest 
 Scotch. But Athos was grieved with them, for he began 
 to think D'Artagnan was not wrong. 
 
 The Englishman showed D'Artagnan a letter : " From 
 the general," said he. 
 
 " Ay ! that 's it, my dismissal ! " replied the Gascon. 
 
 Must it be read, Athos V 
 
 *^You must be deceived," said Athos, '^or I know no 
 other honest people in the world but you and myself." 
 
 D'Artagnan shrugged his shoulders and unsealed the 
 letter, while the impassive Englishman held for him a 
 large lantern, by the light of which he was enabled to 
 read it. . 
 
326 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 *^ Welij what have you " said Athos, seeing the coun- 
 tenance of the reader change. 
 
 " Eead it yourself/' said the musketeer. 
 Athos took the paper and read : — 
 
 M. d'Artagnan, — The kinoj very much regrets you did 
 not come to St. Paul's with his cortege. You have failed 
 with him as you failed with me, my dear captain. There 
 is but one means of repairing all this. His Majesty expects 
 me at nine o'clock at the palace of St. James; will you be 
 there at the same time with me ? His gracious Majesty ap- 
 points that hour for an audience he grants you. 
 
 This letter was from Monk. 
 
THE AUDIENCE. 
 
 327 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIIL 
 
 THE AUDIENCE. 
 
 " Well 1 " cried Athos, with a mild look of reproach, 
 when D'Artagnan had read the letter addressed to him 
 by Monk. 
 
 Well ! " said D'Artagnan, red with pleasure, and a 
 little with shame for having so hastily accused the king 
 and Monk, this is a politeness, — w^hich leads to noth- 
 ing, it is true, but yet it is a politeness." 
 
 I could hardly believe the young prince ungrateful," 
 said Athos. 
 
 ^'The fact is, that his present is still too near to his 
 past," replied D'Artagnan ; " but, after all, everything to 
 the present moment proves me right." 
 
 I acknowledge it, my dear friend, I acknowledge it. 
 Ah ! there is your cheerful look returned. You cannot 
 think how delighted I am." 
 
 *'Thus you see," said D'Artagnan, "Charles II. re- 
 ceives M. Monk at nine o'clock ; me he will receive at 
 ten ; it is a grand audience, of the sort which at the 
 Louvre are called ' distributions of holy court water.' 
 Come, let us go and place ourselves under the spout, my 
 dear friend ! Come along ! " 
 
 Athos did not reply ; and both dh*ected their steps, 
 at a quick pace, towards the palace of St. James, which 
 the crowed still surrounded, to catch through the win- 
 dows the shadows of the courtiers and the reflection of 
 the royal person. Eight o'clock was striking, when the 
 
328 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 two friends took their places in the gallery filled with 
 courtiers and politicians. Every one gave a glance at 
 these simply dressed men in foreign habits, at these two 
 noble heads so full of character and meaning. On their 
 side, Athos and D'Artagnan, having with swift glances 
 taken the measure of the whole of the assembly, resumed 
 their chat. A great noise was suddenly heard at the 
 extremity of the gallery, — it was General Monk, who 
 entered, followed by more than twenty officers, all anxious 
 for one of his smiles ; for he had been the evening before 
 master of all England, and a glorious morrow was ex- 
 pected for the restorer of the family of the Stuarts. 
 
 Gentlemen," said Monk, turning round, " hencefor- 
 ward I beg you to remember that I am no longer any- 
 thing. Lately I commanded the principal army of the 
 republic ; now that army is the king's, into whose hands 
 I am about to replace, at his command, my power of 
 yesterday." 
 
 Great surprise was expressed on the countenances of 
 all ; and the circle of adulators and suppliants w^hich sur- 
 rounded Monk an instant before, was enlarged by de- 
 grees, until it was lost in the large undulations of the 
 crowed. Monk was going into the antechamber, as others 
 did. D'Artagnan could not help remarking this to the 
 Comte de la Fere, who frowned on beholding it. Sud- 
 denly the door of Charles's cabinet opened, and the young 
 king appeared, preceded by two officers of his household. 
 
 " Good evening, gentlemen," said he. Is General 
 Monk here 1 " 
 
 " I am here, Sire," replied the old general. 
 
 Charles stepped hastily towards him, and seized his 
 hand with the warmest demonstration of friendship. 
 
 General," said the king, aloud, I have just signed your 
 patent, — you are Duke of Albemarle; and my intention 
 
THE AUDIENCE. 
 
 329 
 
 is that no one shall equal you in power and fortune in 
 this kingdom, where — the noble Montrose excepted — 
 no one has equalled you in loyalty, courage, and talent. 
 Gentlemen, the duke is commander of our armies by land 
 and by sea ; pay him your respects, if you please, in that 
 character." 
 
 While every one was pressing round the general, who 
 received all this homage without losing his impassiveness 
 for an instant, D'Artagnan said to Athos : " When one 
 thinks that this duchy, this command of the land and sea 
 forces, — all these grandeurs, in a word, — have been shut 
 up in a box six feet long and three feet wide ! — " 
 
 *^My friend," replied Athos, "much more imposing 
 grandeurs are confmed in boxes still smaller, — and re- 
 main there forever." 
 
 All at once Monk perceived the tw^o gentlemen, who 
 held themselves apart waiting for the crowd to diminish • 
 he himself made a passage towards them, and surprised 
 them in the midst of their philosophical reflections. " Were 
 you speaking of me'? " said he, with a smile. 
 
 '^My Lord," replied Athos, "we were speaking also of 
 God." 
 
 Monk reflected for a moment, and then replied gayly : 
 "Gentlemen, let us speak a little of the king likewise, if 
 you please ; for you have, I believe, 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 his two companions to precede him ; but 
 to this neither would consent. 
 
 The king during this conversation had returned to the 
 centre of the gallery. 
 
 " Oh, my Frenchmen ! " said he, in that tone of care- 
 
330 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 less gayety which, in spite of so much grief and so many 
 crosses, he had never lost. The Frenchmen ! my con- 
 solation ! " 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, to return to his 
 Frenchmen, as he called them. " M. d'Artagnan," said 
 he, as he entered his cabinet, I am glad to see you 
 again." 
 
 " Sire, my joy is at its height at having the honor to 
 salute your Majesty in your own palace of St. James." 
 
 Monsieur, you have been willing to render me a great 
 service, and I owe you my gratitude for it. If I did not 
 fear to intrude upon the rights of our general comman- 
 dant, I would offer you some post worthy of you near 
 our person." 
 
 "Sire," replied D'Artagnan, "I have quitted the ser- 
 vice of the King of France, making my prince a promise 
 not to serve any other king." 
 
 " Humph ! " said Charles, " I am sorry to hear that. I 
 should like to do much for you ; you please me." 
 
 "Sire — " 
 
 But let us see," said Charles, with a smile, "if we 
 cannot make you break your word. — Duke, assist me. — 
 If you were offered — that is to say, if I offered you the 
 chief command of my Musketeers '? " DMrtagnan bowed 
 lower than before. 
 
 "I should have the regret to refuse what your gracious 
 Majesty would offer me," said he. "A gentleman has 
 but his word ; and that word, as I have had the honor 
 to tell your Majesty, is engaged to the King of France." 
 
 " We will say no more about it, then," said the king, 
 turning towards Athos, and leaving D'Artagnan plunged 
 in the deepest pangs of disappointment. 
 
THE AUDIENCE. 
 
 331 
 
 "Ah ! I said so," muttered the musketeer. "Words! 
 words ! Court holy water ! Kings have always a mar- 
 vellous talent for offering us that which they know we 
 will not accept, and in appearing generous w^ithout 
 risk. Fool ! — triple fool that I was to have hoped for a 
 moment ! " 
 
 During this time Charles had taken the hand of Athos. 
 " Count/' said he, ^' you have been to me a second father ; 
 the services you have rendered me are above all price. I 
 have thought of a recompense, notwithstanding. You 
 were created by my father a Knight of the Garter, — that 
 is an order which all the kings of Europe cannot bear; 
 by the queen regent. Knight of the Holy Ghost, — which 
 is an order not less illustrious ; I join to it that of the 
 Golden Fleece, which the King of France has sent me, to 
 whom the King of Spain, his father-in-law, gave two on 
 the occasion of his marriage ; but, in return, I have a 
 service to ask of you." 
 
 " Sire,'' said Athos, with confusion, "the Golden Fleece 
 for me, when the King of France is the only person in 
 my country who enjoys that distinction ! " 
 
 " I wish you to be, in your country and elsewhere, the 
 equal of all those whom sovereigns have honored with 
 their favor," said Charles, drawing the chain from his 
 neck ; " and I am sure, Count, my father smiles on me 
 from the depths of his tomb." 
 
 "It is unaccountably strange/' said D'Artagnan to 
 himself, while his friend, on his knees, received the emi- 
 nent order which the king conferred on him, — "it is 
 almost incredible that I have always seen showers of 
 prosperity fall upon all who surrounded me, and that 
 not a drop ever reached me ! If I were a jealous man, it 
 would be enough to make me tear my hair, by my word 
 of honor ! " 
 
332 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 AtKos 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 mistake ; the word ' duke ' is too short for me, I always 
 seek for some title to elongate it. I should wish to see 
 you so near my throne that I might say to you, as to 
 Louis XIY., ' My brother ! ' Oh ! I have it ; and you will 
 be almost my brother, for I make you viceroy of Ireland 
 and 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 en- 
 thusiasm, without joy, as he did everything. His heart, 
 however, had been moved by this last favor. Charles, by 
 skilfully husbanding his generosity, had left the duke 
 time to wish, although he might not have wished for so 
 much as was given him. 
 
 " Mordioiix ! " 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 so sorrowful and 
 so comically piteous, that the king could not restrain a 
 smile. Monk was preparing to leave the cabinet to take 
 leave of Charles. 
 
 What ! my trusty and well-beloved," said the king to 
 the duke, ^' are you going ? " 
 
 " If it please your Majesty, for in truth I am tired. 
 The emotions of the day have worn me out ; I need 
 repose." 
 
 " But," said the king, "you are not going without M. 
 d'Artagnan, I hope." 
 
 " Why not. Sire 1 " said the old warrior. 
 
 " Well ! you know very well why," said the king. 
 
 Monk looked at Charles with astonishment. 
 
 "I beg your Majesty's pardon. I do not know — what 
 you mean." 
 
THE AUDIENCE. 
 
 333 
 
 " Oh ! possibly not ; but if yon forget, M. d'Artagnan 
 does 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 have the honor to offer M. d'Artagnan a lodging ; 
 3'es, Sire." 
 
 That idea is your own, and yours solely % " 
 
 " Mine and mine only ; yes, Sire." 
 Well ! but it could not be otherwise, — the prisoner 
 is always at the home of his conqueror." 
 
 Monk colored in his turn. Ah ! that is true," said 
 he ; ^' I am M. d'Artagnan's prisoner." 
 
 Without doubt. Monk, since you are not yet ran- 
 somed ; but do not let that concern you. It was I who 
 took you out of M. d'Artagnan's hands, and it is I who 
 wull pay your ransom." 
 
 The eyes of D'Artagnan regained their gayety and 
 their brilliancy. The Gascon began to comprehend. 
 Charles advanced towards him. 
 
 The general," said he, "is not rich, and cannot pay 
 you what he is worth. I am richer, certainly ; but now 
 that he is a duke, and if not a king, almost a king, he is 
 worth a sum I could not perhaps pay. Come, M. d'Ar- 
 tagnan, be moderate with me ; how much do I owe you % " 
 
 D'Artagnan, delighted at the turn things were taking, 
 but not for a moment losing his self-possession, replied : 
 " Sire, your Majesty has no occasion 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 ran- 
 som that is due to me. But if the general will have the 
 kindness to deliver me his sword, I shall consider myself 
 paid ; for there is nothing in the world but the general's 
 sword which is worth so much as himself." 
 
334 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Odds fish ! as my father said/' cried Charles. " That 
 is a gallant proposal, and a gallant man, is he not, Duke 1 
 
 Upon my honor, yes, Sire ; " and he drew his sword. 
 ^' Monsieur," said he to D'Artagnan, ^' here is what you 
 demand. Many may have handled a better blade; but 
 however modest mine may be, I have never surrendered 
 it to any one." 
 
 D'Artagnan received with pride the sword which had 
 just made a king. 
 
 Oh ! oh ! cried Charles 11. ; what ! a sword that 
 has restored me to my throne to go out of the kingdom, 
 and not, one day, to figure among the ornaments of 
 my crown ! ]N"o, on my soul ! that shall not be. Cap- 
 tain d'Artagnan, I will give you two hundred thousand 
 livres for your sword ; if that is too little, say so." 
 
 *^ It is too little, Sire," replied D'Artagnan, with inimi- 
 table seriousness. ''In the first place, I do not at all 
 wish to sell it ; but your 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, commands 
 me to estimate at a half more the reward of my victory. 
 I ask, then, three hundred thousand livres for the sword, 
 or I will give it to your Majesty for nothing;" and 
 taking it by the point he presented it to the king. 
 Charles broke into hilarious laughter. 
 
 ^' A gallant man, and a joyous companion ! Odds fish ! 
 is he not, Duke 1 is he not. Count ] He pleases me ! 
 I like him ! Here, Chevalier d'Artagnan, take this ; " 
 and going to the table, he took a pen and wrote an order 
 upon his treasurer for three hundred thousand livres. 
 
 D'Artagnan took it, and turning gravely towards Monk, 
 I have still asked too little, I know," said he ; " but be- 
 lieve me. Monsieur the Duke, I w^ould rather have died 
 than allow myself to be governed by avarice." 
 
THE AUDIENCE. 
 
 385 
 
 The king began to laugh again, hke the happiest 
 cockney of his kingdom. 
 
 " You will come and see me again before you go, 
 Chevalier r' said he; '^I shall want to lay in a stock of 
 gayety, now my Frenchmen are leaving me." 
 
 Ah, Sire, it shall not be with the gayety as with the 
 duke's sword; I will give it to your Majesty gratis," 
 replied D'Artagnan, whose feet scarcely seemed to touch 
 the ground. 
 
 "And you, Count," 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 the two Frenchmen, who carried them to 
 their lips. 
 
 "Well," said Athos, when they were out of the palace, 
 " are you satisfied 
 
 " Hush ! " said D'Artagnan, wild with joy, " I am not 
 yet returned from the treasurer's ; the spout may fall 
 upon my head." 
 
836 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 OF THE EMBARRASSMENT OF RICHES. 
 
 D'Artagnan lost no time ; and as soon as the thing was 
 suitable and opportune, he paid a visit to the lord- 
 treasurer of his Majesty. He had then the satisfaction 
 of exchanging a piece of paper covered with very ugly writ- 
 ing for a prodigious number of crowns, recently stamped 
 with the image of his very gracious Majesty Charles IT. 
 D'Artagnan easily recovered his self-possession ; and yet 
 upon this occasion he could 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, had 
 never seen so many pieces and rouleaux of pieces placed 
 together in an order truly agreeable to the eye. The 
 treasurer placed all these rouleaux in bags, and closed 
 each bag with a stamp of the arms of England, — a favor 
 which treasurers do not accord to everybody. Then, 
 impassive, and with all the politeness that should be 
 shown to a man honored with the friendship of the king, 
 he said to DArtagnau, — 
 
 *^Take away your money, sir." 
 
 Your money I These words made a thousand chords 
 vibrate in the heart of D'Artagnan, which he had never 
 felt before. He had the bags packed in a small cart, and 
 returned home meditating profoundly. A man who pos- 
 sesses three hundred thousand livres can no longer expect 
 to wear a smooth brow ; a wrinkle for every hundred 
 thousand livres is not too much. D'Artagnan shut him- 
 
OF THE EMBARRASSMENT OF RICHES- 
 
 337 
 
 self lip, ate no dinner, closed his door against everybody, 
 and with a lighted lamp and a loaded pistol on the table, 
 watched all night, ruminating upon the means of pre- 
 venting these lovely crowns, which from the coffers of 
 the king had passed into his coffers, from passing from 
 his coffers into the pockets of any thief whatever. The 
 best means discovered by the Gascon was to enclose his 
 treasure, for the present, under locks so solid that no 
 wrist could break them, and so complicated that no com- 
 mon key could open them. D'Artagnan remembered that 
 the English have great skill in mechanics and conserva- 
 tive industry ; and he determined to go in the morning 
 in search of a mechanic who would sell him a strong 
 box. He did not go far. Master Will Jobson, dwelling 
 in Piccadilly, listened to his propositions, comprehended 
 his dilemma, and promised to make him a safety-lock 
 that should relieve him from all future fear. 
 
 "I will give you," said he, "a piece of mechanism 
 entirely new. At the first serious attempt upon your 
 lock, an invisible plate will open of itself and a small 
 cannon, equally invisible, wall vomit forth a pretty copper 
 bullet of eight-ounce weight, which will knock down the 
 intruder, and not without a loud report. What do you 
 think of itr' 
 
 " I think it very ingenious," cried D'Artagnan ; the 
 little copper bullet pleases me mightily. So now. Mon- 
 sieur the mechanic, the terms V 
 
 ^' A fortnight for the execution, and fifteen thousand 
 livres, payable on delivery," replied the artisan. 
 
 D'Artagnan's brow darkened. A fortnight was delay 
 enough to allow the thieves of London time to remove 
 all occasion for the strong box. As to the fifteen thou- 
 sand livres, that would be paying too dear for w^hat a 
 little vigilance would procure him for nothing. 
 VOL. I. —22 
 
338 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 I will think of it," said he ; 'Hhank you, Monsieur." 
 And he returned home at full speed ; nobody had yet 
 touched his treasure. 
 
 That same day, Athos paid his friend a visit, and 
 found him so thoughtful that he could not help express- 
 ing his surprise. 
 
 How is this 1 " said he, " you are rich and not gay, — 
 you, who were so anxious for wealth ! " 
 
 " My friend, the pleasures to which we are not accus- 
 tomed oppress us more than the griefs with which we are 
 familiar. Give me your opinion, if you please. I can ask 
 you, who have always had money : when we have money, 
 what do we do with it 1 " 
 That depends." 
 
 " What have you done with yours, seeing that it has 
 not made you a miser or a prodigal 1 For avarice dries up 
 the heart, and prodigality drowns it, — is not that so 1 " 
 
 ^^Fabricius could not have spoken more justly. But, 
 in truth, my money has never 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 composes the better part of my prop- 
 erty." 
 
 " I know it does.'* 
 
 " So that you can be as rich as I am, and indeed richer, 
 w^henever you like, by the same means." 
 
 But your rents, — do you lay them by 1 '* 
 ^' JNTo." 
 
 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 pays you interest at a fair rate." 
 "Not at all." 
 
 ^' Good heavens ! what do you do with it, then " 
 
OF THE EMBARRASSMENT OF RICHES. 339 
 
 " I spend all I have, and I have only what I spend, my 
 dear D'Artagnan." 
 
 Ah ! that may be. But you are something of a 
 prince ; fifteen or sixteen thousand livres melt away 
 between your fingers ; and then you have expenses and 
 appearances — " 
 
 Well, I don't see why you should be less of a noble than 
 I am, my friend ; your money would be quite sufficient." 
 
 " Three hundred thousand livres ! Two thirds too 
 much ! 
 
 " I beg your pardon — did you not tell me ? — I thought 
 1 heard you say — I fancied you had a partner — " 
 
 " Ah ! mordioiix ! that 's true," cried D'Artagnan, col- 
 oring; ''there is Planchet. I had forgotten Planchet, 
 upon my life ! Well, there are my hundred thousand 
 crowns broken into ! That 's a pity ; it was a round sum, 
 and sounded well. — That is true, Athos ; I am no longer 
 rich. What a memory you have ! " 
 
 " Tolerably good ; yes, thank God I " 
 
 " That brave Planchet ! " grumbled D'Artagnan ; "he 
 has not had 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 matters with him. I have had a great deal 
 of trouble, you see, and expenses ; all that must be taken 
 into account." 
 
 " My dear friend, I can depend upon you, and have no 
 fear for the worthy Planchet ; his interests are better in 
 your hands than in his own. But now that you have 
 nothing more to do here, we will set out, if you please. 
 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 Notre-Dame." 
 
340 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 "My friend, I am most anxious to be off, .and will go 
 at once and pay my respects to the king." 
 
 " T," said Athos, "am going to call upon some friends 
 in the city, and shall be then at your service." 
 
 " Will you lend me Grimaud 1 " 
 
 " With all my heart. What do you want to do with 
 him 1 " 
 
 " Something very simple, and which will not fatigue 
 him ; I will only beg him to take charge of my pistols, 
 which lie there on the table near that coffer.'- 
 " Very well ! " replied Athos, imperturbably. 
 " And he will not stir, will he 1 " 
 " Not more than the pistols themselves.'* 
 " Then I will go and take leave of his Majesty. Au 
 revoir ! " 
 
 D'Artagnan arrived at St. James's, where Charles IT., 
 who was busy v^riting, kept him in the antechamber a full 
 hour. While walking about in the gallery, from the door 
 to the window, from the window to the door, he thought 
 he saw a cloak like Athos's cross the vestibule ; but at the 
 moment he w'as going to ascertain if it were he, the usher 
 summoned him to his Majesty's presence. Charles IT. 
 rubbed his hands at receiving the thanks of our friend. 
 
 "Chevalier," said he, "you are w^rong in expressing 
 gratitude to me ; I have not paid you a quarter of the 
 value of the history of the box into which you put the 
 brave general — the excellent Duke of Albemarle, T 
 mean ; " and the king laughed heartily. 
 
 D'Artagnan did not think it proper to interrupt his 
 Majesty, and bowed with much modesty. 
 
 A propos,^^ continued Charles, "do you think my 
 dear Monk has really pardoned you 1 " 
 
 " Pardoned me ! yes, I hope so, Sire ! " 
 
 " Eh ! but it w^as a cruel trick ! Odds fish ! to pack up 
 
OF THE EMBARRASSMENT OF RICHES. 
 
 341 
 
 the first personage of the English Ee volution like a her- 
 ring! In your place, I would not trust him, Chevalier." 
 "But, Sire — " 
 
 " Yes, I know very well that Monk calls you his friend. 
 But he has too penetrating an eye not to have a memory, 
 and too lofty a brow not to be very proud, you know, — 
 grande super ciliumy 
 
 certainly will learn Latin," said D'Artagnan to 
 himself. 
 
 " But stop," cried the merry monarch, " I must man- 
 age your reconciliation ; I know how to set about it ; 
 so — " 
 
 D'Artagnan bit his mustache. Will your Majesty 
 permit me to tell you the truth ]" 
 "Speak, Chevalier, speak." 
 
 " Well, Sire, you alarm me greatly. If your Majesty 
 undertakes the affair, as you seem inclined to do, I am a 
 lost man ; the duke will have me assassinated." 
 
 The king burst into a fresh roar of laughter, which 
 changed D'Artagnan's alarm into downright terror. 
 
 " Sire, I beg you to allow me to settle this matter 
 myself ; and if your Majesty has no further need of my 
 services — " 
 
 " No, Chevalier. What ! do you want to leave us % " 
 replied Charles, with an hilarity 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^ Lady Henrietta. 
 Do you know her % " 
 
 " No, Sire, but — an old soldier like me is not an 
 agreeable spectacle for a young and gay princess." 
 
 " Ay ! but my sister must know you \ she must, at her 
 need, have you to depend upon." 
 
342 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Sire, every one that is dear to your Majesty will be 
 sacred to me." 
 
 a Very well ! — Parry ! Come here, Parry." 
 The lateral door opened ; and Parry entered, his face 
 beaming with pleasure as soon as he saw D'Artagnan. 
 What is Rochester doing 1 " said the king. 
 " He is upon the canal with the ladies," replied Parry. 
 " And Buckingham ^ " 
 He is there also." 
 
 That is well. You will conduct the chevalier to Yil- 
 liers, — that is, the 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 can afterwards 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 1 " 
 
 " Sire, you overpower me ; I cannot think of putting 
 your Majesty *s officers to inconvenience on my account." 
 
 The king slapped D'Artagnan upon the shoulder. 
 Nobody will be inconvenienced on your account. Chev- 
 alier, but for that of an ambassador I am about sending 
 to France, and to whom you will serve willingly as a com- 
 panion, I fancy, for you know him." 
 
 DMrtagnan appeared astonished. 
 
 "He is a certain Comte de la Fere, — he you call 
 Athos," added the king ; terminating the conversation, as 
 he had begun it, by a joyous burst of laughter. " Adieu, 
 Chevalier, adieu. Love me as I love you." And there- 
 upon, making a sign to Parry to ask if there were any 
 
OF THE EMBARRASSMENT OF RICHES. 
 
 343 
 
 one waiting for him in the adjoining cabinet, the king 
 disappeared into that cabinet, leaving the place to the 
 chevalier, much astonished with this singular audience. 
 The old man took his arm in a friendly way, and led him 
 towards the garden. 
 
344 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXV. 
 
 UPON THE CANAL. 
 
 Upon the canal of waters of an opaque green, bordered 
 with marble, upon which time had already scattered black 
 spots and tufts of mossy grass, there glided majestically 
 a long flat boat, ornamented with the arms of England, 
 surmounted by a dais, and carpeted with long damasked 
 stuffs, which trailed their fringes in the water. Eight 
 rowers, leaning lazily to their oars, made it move upon 
 the canal with the graceful slowness of the swans, which, 
 disturbed in their ancient possessions by the approach of 
 the boat, looked from a distance at this splendid and 
 noisy pageant. We say noisy, — for the boat contained 
 four players upon the guitar and the lute, two singers, 
 and several courtiers, all sparkling with gold and pre- 
 cious stones, and showing their white teeth in emulation 
 of each other, to please Lady Henrietta Stuart, grand- 
 daughter of Henry lY., daughter of Charles I., and sister 
 of Charles IL, who occupied the seat of honor under the 
 dais of the boat. We know this young princess ; we have 
 seen her at the Louvre with her mother, wanting wood, 
 wanting bread, and fed by the assistant-bishop and the 
 Parliament. She had, therefore^ like her brothers, passed 
 through a troublous youth ; then, all at once, she had 
 just awakened from a long and horrible dream, seated on 
 the steps of a throne, surrounded by courtiers and flat- 
 terers. Like Mary Stuart on leaving prison, she aspired 
 not only to life and liberty, but to power and wealth. 
 
UPON THE CANAL. 
 
 345 
 
 Lady Henrietta, in growing, had attained remarkable 
 beauty, which the recent restoration had rendered cele- 
 brated. Misfortune had taken from her the lustre of 
 pride, but prosperity had restored it to her. She w^as 
 resplendent, then, in her joy and her happiness, — like 
 those hot-house flowers which, forgotten during a night 
 of the first frosts of autumn, have hung their heads, but 
 which on the morrow, warmed once more by the atmos- 
 phere in which they were born, rise again with greater 
 splendor than ever. Yilliers, Duke of Buckingham, son 
 of him who played so conspicuous a part in the early 
 chapters of this history, — Yilliers of Buckingham, a 
 liandsome cavalier, melancholy with women, a jester with 
 men, — and Wilmot, Lord Rochester, a jester with both 
 sexes, were standing at this moment before Lady Henri- 
 etta, disputing the privilege of making her smile. As 
 to that young and beautiful princess, reclining upon a 
 cushion of velvet bordered with gold, her hands hanging 
 listlessly so as to dip in the water, she listened carelessly 
 to the musicians without hearing them, and heard the 
 two courtiers without appearing to listen to them. This 
 Lady Henrietta, this charming creature, this woman 
 who joined the graces of Prance to those of England, 
 not having yet loved, was cruel in her coquetry. No 
 smile — that innocent favor of young girls — bright- 
 ened her countenance ; and if at times she raised her 
 eyes, it was to fasten them upon one or other of the 
 cavaliers with such a fixity that their gallantry, bold as 
 it was through experience, took the alarm, and became 
 timid. 
 
 In the mean while the boat continued its course, the 
 musicians made a great noise, and the courtiers began, 
 like them, to be out of breath. Besides, the excursion 
 became doubtless monotonous to the princess; for, all at 
 
346 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 once, shaking her liead with an air of impatience, " Come, 
 gentlemen, enough of this; let us land." 
 
 "Ah, Madam," said Buckingham, we are very un- 
 fortunate ! We have not succeeded in making the 
 excursion agreeable to your Highness." 
 
 " My mother expects me," replied the princess ; ^' and 
 I must frankly admit, gentlemen, I am ennuyee;^^ and 
 while uttering this cruel word, Henrietta endeavored to 
 console by a look each of the young men, who appeared 
 terrified at such frankness. The look produced its effect, 
 the two faces brightened ; but immediately, as if the 
 royal coquette thought she had done too much for simple 
 mortals, she made a movement, turned her back to both 
 her adorers, and appeared plunged in a reverie in which 
 it was evident they had no part. 
 
 Buckingham bit his lips with anger ; for he w^as truly 
 in love with Lady Henrietta, and in that capacity took 
 everything in a serious light. Eochester bit his lips 
 likewise ; but as his wit always dominated over his heart, 
 it was purely and simply to repress a malicious burst of 
 laughter. The princess was then allowing the eyes she 
 turned from the 3^oung nobles to wander over the green 
 and flowery turf of the park, when she perceived Parry 
 and D'Artagnan at a distance. 
 
 Who is coming yonder 1 " said she. 
 
 The two young men turned round wath the rapidity of 
 lightning. 
 
 *'Pany," replied Buckingham; "nobody but Parry." 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said Eochester, "but I think he 
 has a companion." 
 
 " Yes," said the princess, at first with languor, but 
 then — What mean those words, ' Nobody but Parry ; ' 
 say, my Lord ? " 
 
 "Because, Madam," replied Buckingham, piqued, "be- 
 
UPON THE CANAL. 
 
 347 
 
 cause the faithful Parr}^, the wandering Parry, the eternal 
 Parry, is not, I believe, of much consequence." 
 
 ^' You are mistaken, Duke. Parry — the wandering 
 Parry, as you call him — has always wandered for the 
 service of my family, and the sight of that old man 
 always gives me satisfaction." 
 
 Lady Henrietta followed the usual course of pretty 
 women, particularly coquettish w^omen ; she passed from 
 caprice to contradiction. The gallant had undergone 
 the caprice ; the courtier must bend beneath the con- 
 tradictory humor. Buckingham bowed, but made no 
 reply. 
 
 ^' It is true, Madam," said Rochester, bowing in his. 
 turn, that Parry is the model of servants ; but, Madam, 
 he is no longer young, and we only laugh at seeing cheer- 
 ful objects. Is an old man a gay object 1 " 
 
 "Enough, my Lord," said the princess, coolly; "the 
 subject of conversation is unpleasant to me." 
 
 Then, as if speaking to herself, "It is really unaccount- 
 able," said she, *Miow little regard my brother's friends 
 have for his servants." 
 
 "Ah, Madam," cried Buckingham, "your Grace pierces 
 my heart with a poniard forged by ^-our own hands." 
 
 " What is the meaning of that speech, which is turned 
 so like a French madrigal, Duke 1 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 of that good 
 Parry, for whom your Highness to-day entertains such 
 a marvellous susceptibility." 
 
 "Well, my Lord, if I have forgotten myself so far," 
 said Henrietta, " you do wrong to remind me of it ; " and 
 she made a sign of impatience. " The good Parry wants 
 
348 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 to speak to me, I believe ; please to order them to row to 
 the shore, my Lord Rochester." 
 
 Eochester hastened to repeat the prin^ess^s command ; 
 and, a moment after, the boat touched the bank. 
 
 ^' Let us land, gentlemen," said Henrietta, taking the 
 arm which Rochester offered to her, although Buckingham 
 was nearer to her, and had presented his. Then Eoches- 
 ter, with an ill-dissembled pride, w^hich pierced the heart 
 of the unhappy Buckingham through and through, led 
 the princess across the little bridge which the rowers had 
 cast from the royal boat to the shore. 
 
 Which way will your Highness go ? " asked Eochester. 
 You see, my Lord ; towards that good Parry, who is 
 wandering, as my Lord Buckingham says, and seekmg 
 me with eyes weakened by the tears he has shed over our 
 misfortunes," 
 
 Good heavens ! " said Eochester, " how sad your 
 Highness is to-day ! We have, in truth, the air of ap- 
 pearing ridiculous fools to you. Madam." 
 
 " Speak for yourself, my Lord," interrupted Bucking- 
 ham, with vexation ; for my part, I displease her High- 
 ness to such a degree that I appear absolutely nothing 
 to her." 
 
 Neither Eochester nor the princess made any reply ; 
 Henrietta only urged her cavalier to a quicker pace. 
 Buckingham remained behind, and took advantage of this 
 isolation to give himself up to such rage in his handker- 
 chief, that the cambric was bitten in holes. 
 
 Parry, my good Parry," said the princess, with her 
 gentle voice, " come hither. I see you are seeking for 
 me, and I am waiting for you." 
 
 Ah, Madam," said Eochester, coming charitably to 
 the succor of his companion, remaining, as we have said, 
 behind, '^if Parry cannot see your royal Highness, the 
 
UPON THE CANAL. 
 
 349 
 
 man who follows him is a sufficient guide, even for a blind 
 man ; for he has eyes of flame. That man is a double- 
 lamped lantern.'* 
 
 Lighting a very handsome martial countenance/' said 
 the princess, determined to be as ill-natured as possible. 
 Rochester bowed. ^' One of those vigorous soldiers' heads 
 seen nowhere but in France," added the princess, with 
 the perseverance of a woman sure of impunity. 
 
 Rochester and Buckingham looked at each other, as 
 much as to say, "What can be the matter with herl" 
 
 ^*See, my Lord Buckingham, what Parry wants," said 
 Henrietta ; ^' go ! " 
 
 Tlie young man, who considered this order as a favor, 
 resumed his courage, and hastened to meet Parry, who, 
 followed by D'Artagnan, advanced slowly on account of 
 his age. D'Artagnan walked slowly but nobly, as D'Ar- 
 tagnan doubled by the third of a milHon ought to walk, — 
 that is to say, without conceit or swagger, but without 
 timidity. When Buckingham, who had been very eager 
 to comply with the desire of the princess, had stopped at 
 a marble bench, as if fatigued with the few steps he had 
 gone, — when Buckingham, we say, was at a distance of 
 only a few paces from Parry, the latter recognized him. 
 
 "Ah, my Lord," cried he, quite out of breath, "will 
 your Grace obey the king ? " 
 
 " In what, M. Parry 1 " said the young man, with a 
 coolness tempered by a desire of making himself agree- 
 able to the princess. 
 
 " Well, his Majesty begs your Grace to present this 
 gentleman to Lady Henrietta Stuart." 
 
 " In the first place, what is the gentleman's name 1 " 
 said the duke, haughtily. 
 
 D'Artagnan, as we know, was easily affronted; the 
 tone of the Duke of Buckingham displeased him. He 
 
350 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 sLirveyed the courtier from bead to foot, and two flashes 
 beamed from beneath his bent brows. But, after a 
 struggle, ^'M. le Chevalier d'Artagnan, my Lord," replied 
 he, quietly. 
 
 Pardon me, Monsieur, that informs me as to your 
 name, but nothing more." 
 
 That is to say 1 " 
 ^' That is to say, I do not know you." 
 
 I am more fortunate than you, Monsieur/' replied 
 D^\rtagnanj ^^for I have had the honor of knowing 
 much of your family, and particularly my Lord Duke of 
 Buckingham your illustrious father." 
 
 '^My father r' said Buckingham. ^'Well, I think I 
 now remember. M. le Chevalier dMrtagnan, do you 
 say '? " 
 
 D'Artagnan bowled. " In person," said he. 
 
 "Pardon me; but are you one of those Frenchmen 
 who had secret relations with my father^" 
 
 "Exactly, Monsieur the Duke. I am one of those 
 Frenchmen." 
 
 " Then, Monsieur, permit me to say that it was strange 
 my father never heard of you during his lifetime." 
 
 "^sTo, Monsieur, but he heard of me at the moment of 
 his death : it w^as I who sent to him, by tlie hands of a 
 servant of Anne of Austria, notice of the dangers which 
 threatened him; unfortunately, it came too late." 
 
 "Never mind, Monsieur,'' said Buckingham. "I un- 
 derstand now, that, having had the intention of rendering 
 a service to the father, you are come to claim the protec- 
 tion of the son." 
 
 ^'In the first place, my Lord," replied D'Artagnan, 
 phlegmatically, " I claim the protection of no man. His 
 Majesty Charles IL, to whom I have had the honor of 
 rendering some services, — I may tell you, my Lord, my 
 
UPON THE CANAL. 
 
 851 
 
 life has been passed in such occupations, — King Charles 
 II., then, who wishes to honor me with some kindness, 
 has desired I shall be presented to Lady Henrietta, his 
 sister, to whom I shall, perhaps, have the good fortune 
 to be of service hereafter. Now, the king knew that you 
 at this moment were with her royal Highness, and has 
 sent me to you by the intermission of Parry. There is 
 no other mystery. I ask absolutely nothing of you ; and 
 if you will not present me to her royal Highness, I shall 
 have the pain of doing without you, and the courage to 
 present myself.'^ 
 
 At least. Monsieur," said Buckingham, determined 
 to have the last word, you will not go back from an 
 explanation provoked by yourself." 
 
 I never go back. Monsieur," said D'Artagnan. 
 
 " As you have had relations with my father, you must 
 be acquainted with some private details 1 " 
 
 " These relations are already far removed from us, my 
 Lord, for you were not then born ; and as to some 
 unfortunate diamond studs, which I received from his 
 hands and carried back to France, it is really not worth 
 while awakening so many remembrances." 
 
 " Ah, Monsieur,'' said Buckingham, warmly, going up 
 to D'Artagnan, and holding out his hand to him, it is 
 you, then, — you whom my father sought for so earnestly, 
 and who had a right to expect so much from us." 
 
 " To expect. Monsieur ; in truth, that is my strong 
 point : all my life I have expected." 
 
 At this moment the princess, who was tired of not 
 seeing the stranger approach her, arose and came towards 
 them. 
 
 "At least. Monsieur," said Buckingham, **you shall 
 not wait for the presentation you claim of me." Then 
 turning towards the princess, and bowing, Madam," said 
 
352 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 the yoimg man, the king your brother desh^es me to have 
 the honor of presenting to your Highness M. le Chevaher 
 d'Artagnan." 
 
 " In order that your Highness may have, at your need, 
 a firm support and a sure friend," added Parry. 
 
 D'Artagnan bowed. 
 You have still something to say. Parry," replied Hen- 
 rietta, smiling upon D'Artagnan, while addressing the 
 old servant. 
 
 Yes, Madam; the king desires you to preserve re- 
 ligiously in your memory the name, and to remember 
 the merit, of M. d'Artagnan, to whom his Majesty owes, 
 he says, the recovery of his kingdom." 
 
 Buckingham, the princess, and Rochester looked at one 
 another in astonishment. 
 
 That," said D'Artagnan to Buckingham, ^Ms another 
 little secret, of which, in all probability, I shall not boast 
 to his Majesty's son, as I have done to you with respect 
 to the diamond studs." 
 
 "Madam," said Buckingham, "Monsieur has just re- 
 called to my memory, for the second time, an event which 
 excites my curiosity to such a degree that I will venture 
 to ask your permission to take him aside for a moment, 
 to converse in private." 
 
 " Do, my Lord," said the princess ; ^' but restore to 
 the sister as quickly as possible this friend so devoted 
 to the brother ; " and she took the arm of Rochester, 
 while Buckingham took that of D'Artagnan. 
 
 "Oh, tell me. Chevalier," said Buckingham, "all that 
 affair of the diamonds, which nobody knows in England, 
 not even the son of him who was the hero of it." 
 
 " My Lord, one person alone had a right to relate all 
 that affair, as you call it, and that was your father; he 
 thought proper to be silent ; I must beg you to allow me 
 
UPON THE CANAL. 
 
 853 
 
 to be so likewise ; " and D'Artagnan bowed like a 
 man upon whom it w^as evident no entreaties could 
 prevail. 
 
 *^ Since it is so, Monsieur," said Buckingham, pardon 
 my indiscretion, I beg you ; and if at any time I should 
 go into France — " and he turned round to take a last 
 look at the princess, who took but little notice of 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 into 
 France — " 
 
 " You will go, my Lord," said D'Artagnan ; I will 
 answer for that." 
 And how so r* 
 
 Oh, I have strange powers of prediction ; if I do 
 predict anything, I am seldom mistaken. If, then, you 
 do come to France ] " 
 
 " Well, then, Monsieur, I will venture to beg of you, of 
 whom kings ask that valuable friendship which restores 
 crowns to them, a little of that great interest you avowed 
 for my father." 
 
 " My Lord," replied D'Artagnan, " believe me, I shall 
 deem myself highly honored if, in France, you remember 
 having seen me here. And now permit — " 
 
 Then, turning towards the princess, Madame," said 
 he, " your Highness is a daughter of France ; and in 
 that quality I hope to see you again in Paris. One of 
 my happy days will be that on which your Highness 
 shall give me any command whatever, which will assure 
 me that you have not forgotten the recommendations of 
 your august brother ; " and he bowed respectfully to the 
 young princess, who gave him her hand to kiss with a 
 grace wholly royal. 
 
 VOL. T. — 23 
 
354 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Ah, Madam," said Buckingham, in a subdued voice, 
 ^' what can a man do to obtain a similar favor from your 
 Highness 1 " 
 
 " My Lord,'* replied Henrietta, " ask M. d'Artagnan ; 
 he will tell you." 
 
HOW D'ARTAGNAN DREW A COUNTRY-SEAT. 355 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 HOW d'aRTAGNAN DREW, AS A FAIRY MIGHT HAVE DONE, 
 A COUNTRY-SEAT FROM A DEAL BOX. 
 
 The king's words regarding the wounded pride of Monk 
 had inspired D'Artagnan with no little apprehension. 
 The lieutenant had had, all his life, the great art of 
 choosing his enemies; and when he had found them 
 implacable and invincible, it was when he had not been 
 able, under any pretence, to make them otherwise. But 
 points of view change greatly in the course of a life. It 
 is a magic lantern, of which the eye of man every year 
 changes the aspects. It results that from the last day of 
 a year on which we saw white, to the first day of the year 
 on which we shall see black, there is but the interval of 
 a single night. 
 
 Now D'Artagnan, when he left Calais with his ten 
 scamps, would have hesitated as little in attacking a 
 Goliath, a Nebuchadnezzar, or a Holofernes, as he would 
 in crossing swords with a recruit or cavilling with a land- 
 lady. Then he resembled the sparrow-hawk, which, fast- 
 ing, attacks a ram. Hunger blinds ; but D'Artagnan 
 satisfied, D'Artagnan rich, D'Artagnan a conqueror, 
 D'Artagnan proud of so difficult a triumph, — D'Ar- 
 tagnan had too much to lose not to reckon, figure by 
 figure, with probable bad fortune. His thoughts were 
 employed, therefore, all the way on the road from his 
 presentation, with one thing ; and that was, how he should 
 manage a man like Monk, — a man whom Charles himself. 
 
356' THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 king as he was, managed with difficulty ; for, scarcely- 
 established, the protected might again stand in need of 
 the protector, and would consequently not refuse him, 
 such being the case, the petty satisfaction of transport- 
 ing M. d'Artagnan, or confining him^in one of the 
 Middlesex prisons, or drowning him on his passage from 
 Dover to Boulogne. Such sorts of satisfaction kings are 
 accustomed to render to viceroys without disagreeable 
 consequences. It would^not be at all necessary for the 
 king to be active in that counterpart of the piece in 
 which Monk should take his revenge. The part of the 
 king would be confined simply to pardoning the viceroy 
 of Ireland all he should undertake against D'Artagnan. 
 Nothing more was necessary to place the conscience of 
 the Duke of Albemarle at rest than a te ahsolvo said with 
 a laugh, or the scrawl of " Charles the Khig " traced at 
 the foot of a parchment ; and with these two w^ords pro- 
 nounced, and these three words written, poor D'Artagnan 
 was forever crushed under the ruins of his imagination. 
 And then — a thing sufficiently disquieting for a man 
 with such foresight as our musketeer — he found himself 
 alone ; and even the friendship of Athos could not restore 
 his confidence. Certainly, if the affair had concerned only 
 a free distribution of sword-thrusts, the musketeer would 
 have reckoned upon his companion ; but in delicate mat- 
 ters with a king, when the perhaps of an unlucky chance 
 should arise in justification of Monk or of Charles of 
 England, D'Artagnan knew A.thos w^ell enough to be 
 sure he would give the best possible coloring to the 
 loyalty of the survivor, and would content himself with 
 shedding floods of tears on the tomb of the dead, suppos- 
 ing the dead to be his friend, and afterwards composing 
 his epitaph in the most pompous superlatives. 
 
 Decidedly," thought the Gascon, — and this thought 
 
HOW D'ARTAGNAN DREW A COUNTRY-SEAT. 357 
 
 was the result of the reflections which he had just whis- 
 pered to himself, and which we have repeated aloud, — 
 " decidedly, I must be reconciled with M. Monk, and 
 acquire a proof of his perfect indiff*erence for the past. 
 If, which God forbid, he is still sulky and reserved in the 
 expression of this sentiment, I will give my money to 
 Athos to take away with him, and will remain in England 
 just long enough to unmask him. Then, as I have a quick 
 eye and a light foot, I will seize the first hostile sign ; I 
 will decamp, or conceal myself at the residence of my 
 Lord Buckingham, who seems a good sort of devil at 
 bottom, and to whom, in return for his hospitality, I will 
 then relate all that history of the diamonds, which can 
 now compromise nobody but an old queen, who need not 
 be ashamed, after being the wife of a poor creature like 
 Mazarin, of having formerly been the mistress of a hand- 
 some nobleman like Buckingham. Mordioiix ! that is 
 the thing, and this Monk shall not get the better of me. 
 Eh ! and besides, I have an idea ! " 
 
 We know that, in general, D'Artagnan was not want- 
 ing in ideas; and during his monologue he had but- 
 toned his vest up to the chin, and nothing excited his 
 imagination like this preparation for a combat of any 
 kind, called accinctioii by the Romans. He was quite 
 heated when he reached the mansion of the Duke of 
 Albemarle. He was introduced to the viceroy with a 
 promptitude which proved that he was considered as one 
 of the household. Monk was in his library. 
 
 ''My Lord," said D'Artagnan, with that expression 
 of frankness which the Gascon knew so well how to 
 assume, — "my Lord, I have come to ask your Grace's 
 advice." 
 
 Monk, as closely buttoned up morally, as his antago- 
 nist was physically, replied : Ask, my friend ; " and his 
 
858 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BKAGELONNE. 
 
 countenance presented an expression not 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 1 
 Speak ! 
 
 It is, my Lord, that I am not quite pleased with the 
 king." 
 
 Indeed ! And on what account, my dear lieutenant 1 " 
 Because his Majesty gives way sometimes to pleasan- 
 tries very compromising to his servants ; and pleasantry, 
 my Lord, is a weapon that seriously wounds men of the 
 sword like us." 
 
 Monk did all in his power not to betray his thought, 
 but D'Artagnan watched him with too close an attention 
 not to detect an almost imperceptible redness upon his 
 face. " Well, now, for my part," said he, with the most 
 natural air possible, " I am not an enemy to pleasantry, 
 my dear M. d'Artagnan ; my soldiers will tell you, even, 
 that many times in camp I listened, very indifferently 
 and with a certain pleasure, to the satirical songs which 
 the army of Lambert passed into mine, and which cer- 
 tainly would have made the ears of a general more sus- 
 ceptible than I am, tingle." 
 
 " Oh, my Lord," said D'Artagnan, I know you are 
 a complete man ; I know you have been, for a long time, 
 placed above human miseries ; but there are pleasantries 
 and pleasantries, and there are those of a certain kind, 
 which, as to myself, have the power of irritating me be- 
 yond expression." 
 
 " May I inquire what kind, my friend ? " 
 
 " Such as are directed against my friends, or against 
 people I respect, my Lord." 
 
 Monk made a slight movement, but this D'Artagnan 
 
HOW D'AKTAGNAN DREW A COUNTRY-SEAT. 359 
 
 perceived. And how," asked Monk, can the stroke of 
 a pin which scratches another tickle your skin 1 Answer 
 me that.'' 
 
 " My Lord, I can explain it to you in one single sen- 
 tence ; it concerns you." 
 
 Monk advanced a single step towards D'Artagnan. 
 Concerns me 1 " said he. 
 
 Yes, and this is what I cannot explain ; but that 
 arises, perhaps, from my want of knowledge of his char- 
 acter. How can the king have the heart to joke about a 
 man who has rendered him so many and such great ser- 
 vices 1 How can one understand that he should amuse 
 himself in setting by the ears a lion like you with a gnat 
 like me 1 " 
 
 I do not see it so at all," said Monk. 
 
 " But so it is. The king, who owed me a reward, might 
 have rewarded me as a soldier, without contriving that 
 history of the ransom, which affects you, my Lord." 
 
 "No," said Monk, laughing, "it does not affect me in 
 any way, I can assure you." 
 
 " l^ot as regards me, I can understand ; you know me, 
 my Lord, — I am so discreet that the grave would appear 
 a babbler compared to me ; but — do you understand, 
 my Lord 1 " 
 
 " 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 your 
 Grace's person." 
 
 " It was well played, Chevalier ; that is all, and no more 
 is to be said about it. You are a soldier, both brave and 
 
360 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 ciiiiniug, which proves that you unite the qualities of 
 Fabius and Hannibal. You employed your means, force 
 and cunning ; there is nothing to be said against that. I 
 ought to have been more guarded." 
 
 Ah, yes, I know, my Lord, and I expected nothing- 
 less from your partiality ; so that if it were only the ab- 
 duction in itself, mordioux! that would be nothing; but 
 there are — " 
 " What 1 " 
 
 "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 ! — decidedly that was a coarse 
 joke." Monk fidgeted about in his chair. " And never- 
 theless, since I have done that," resumed D'Artagnan, — 
 " I, a soldier of fortune, — the matter is quite simple, be- 
 cause, by the side of that action (a little inconsiderate, I 
 admit) which I committed, but which the gravity of the 
 case may excuse, I possess circumspection and reserve." 
 
 " Oh," said Monk, " believe me, I know you ^vell, 
 M. d'Artagnan, and I appreciate you." 
 
 D'Artagnan never took his eyes off Monk ; studying all 
 which passed in the mind of the general while he was 
 speaking. " But there is no question about me," he 
 resumed. 
 
 " Well, then, who is in question 1 " said Monk, who be- 
 gan to grow a little impatient. 
 
HOW D'ARTAGXAN DREW A COUNTRY-SEAT. 361 
 
 The king, who will never restrain his tongue.'* 
 Well, and suppose he should say all he knows 1 " 
 said Monk, with a degree of hesitation. 
 
 " Mj Lord," replied D'Artagnan, do not dissemble, I 
 implore you, with a man who speaks so frankly as I do. 
 You have a right to feel your susceptibility excited, how- 
 ever magnanimous you may be. What the devil ! it is 
 not the place for a man of dignity like you, a man who 
 plays with crowns and sceptres as a Bohemian plays with 
 his balls, — it is not the place for a serious man, I said, to 
 be shut up in a box like a curious object of natural history ; 
 for you must understand it would make all your enemies 
 leady to burst with laughter, — and you are so great, so 
 noble, so generous, that you must have many enemies. 
 This secret is enough to set half the human race laugh- 
 ing, if you should be pictured in that box. It is not 
 decent to have the second personage in the kingdom 
 laughed at." 
 
 INIonk was quite out of countenance at the idea of see- 
 ing pictures of himself in his box. Ridicule, as D'Ar- 
 tagnan had shrewdly foreseen, had an effect upon him 
 which neither the chances of war, the aspirations of am- 
 bition, nor the fear of death could have. 
 
 " Good ! " thought the Gascon, " he is frightened : I 
 am safe." 
 
 " Oh, as to the king," said Monk, " fear nothing, my 
 dear M. d'Artagnan ; the king will not play any jokes 
 with Monk, I assure you." 
 
 The flash of his eye was intercepted in its passage by 
 D'Artagnan. Monk lowered his tone immediately : ^' The 
 king," continued he, ^' is of too noble a nature ; the king's 
 heart is too high to allow him to wish ill to those who do 
 him good." 
 
 " Oh, certainly ! " cried D'Artagnan. I am entirely 
 
362 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 of your Grace's opinion 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 so far as the 
 king is concerned 1 " 
 
 " I have told you I w^as." 
 
 " But you are not so much so on my account ? " 
 I thought I had told you that I had faith in your 
 loyalty and discretion." 
 
 Without doubt, without doubt ; but you must remem- 
 ber 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.'* 
 WelH" 
 
 " Well ; they are yonder, at Boulogne, waiting for me." 
 " And you fear — " 
 
 " Yes, I fear that in my absence — Parhleu ! if I were 
 near them, I could answer for their silence." 
 
 Was I not right in saying that the danger, if there 
 was any danger, would not come from his Majesty, how- 
 ever disposed he may be to joke, but from your compan- 
 ions, as you say — To be laughed at by a king may be 
 tolerable, but by the horse-boys and scamps of the army ] 
 Damnation ! " 
 
 Yes, I comprehend ! that would be insupportable. 
 That is why, my Lord, I came to say, — do you not think 
 it would be better that I should set out for France as 
 soon as possible 1 " 
 
 " Certainly, if you think your presence — " 
 
HOW D'ARTAGNAN DREW A COUNTRY-SEAT. 363 
 
 " Would impose silence upon these scoundrels ? Oh ! I 
 am sure of that, my Lord.'^ 
 
 " Your presence will not prevent the report from spread- 
 ing, if the tale has already transpired." 
 
 *' Oh, it has not transpired, my Lord ; I will guarantee 
 that. At all events, be assured that I am determined 
 upon one thing.'* 
 What is that?" 
 
 " To blow out the brains of the first who shall have 
 propagated that report, and of the first who has heard it ; 
 after which I will return to England to seek an asylum, 
 and perhaps employment with your Grace." 
 Oh, come back ! come back ! " 
 
 "Unfortunately, my Lord, I am acquainted with no- 
 body here but your Grace; and if I should no longer 
 find you, or if you should have forgotten me m your 
 greatness 1 " 
 
 Listen to me, M. d'Artagnan," replied Monk ; " you 
 are a superior gentleman, full of intelligence and courage ; 
 you merit all the good fortune this world can bring you : 
 come with me into Scotland, and, I swear to you, I will 
 create you a destiny which all may envy." 
 
 ^'Oh, my Lord, that is impossible at present. At 
 present I have a sacred duty to perform ; I have to watch 
 over your glory, I have to prevent a low joker from tar- 
 nishing in the eyes of our contemporaries — who knows 1 
 in the eyes of posterity even — the splendor of your 
 name." 
 
 " Of posterity, M. d'Artagnan 1 " 
 Doubtless. It is necessary, as regards posterity, that 
 all the details of that history should remain a mystery ; 
 for, admit that this unfortunate history of the deal box 
 should spread, and it should be asserted that you had 
 not re-established the king loyally and of your free will, 
 
364 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 but in consequence of a compromise entered into at Sche- 
 veningen between you two; — it would be in vain for me 
 to declare how the thing came about, — for me, who know. 
 I should not be believed, and it would be said that I had 
 received my part of the cake and was eatmg it." 
 
 Monk knitted his brow. " Glory, honor, probity," 
 said he, " you are but words ! " 
 
 " Mist ! " replied D'Artagnan ; nothing but mist, 
 through which nobody can see clearly." 
 
 " Well, then, go to France, my dear M. d'Artagnan," 
 said Monk, "go ; and to render England more attractive 
 and agreeable to you, accept a remembrance of me." 
 
 " What now 1 " thought D'Artagnan. 
 
 " I have on the banks of the Clyde," continued Monk, 
 " a little house beneath trees, — a cottage, as it is called 
 here. To this house are attached a hundred acres of 
 land. Accept it." 
 
 Oh, my Lord ! — " 
 
 " Dame ! you wnll be there in your own home, and 
 that will be the place of refuge you were talking of just 
 now." 
 
 "For me to be obliged to your Lordship to such an 
 extent ! Eeally, your Grace, I am ashamed." 
 
 " JS'ot 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 the musketeer, " I will go and 
 draw up the deed of gift ; " and he left the room. 
 
 D'Artagnan looked at him as he w^ent out, with some- 
 thing of a pensive and even an agitated air. 
 
 " After all," said he, " he is a brave man. It is a sad 
 reflection that it is only from fear of me, and not affection, 
 that he acts thus. Well, I will endeavor that affection 
 may follow." Then, after an instant's deeper reflection, — 
 " Bah ! " said he, " to what purpose % He is an English- 
 
HOW d'artagnan drew a country-seat. 365 
 
 man ; and he in his turn went ont, a little confused 
 with the combat. So," said he^ " I am a land-owner ! 
 But how the devil am I to share the cottage with Plan- 
 chet ? — unless I give him the land and I take the chateau, 
 or he takes the chateau and I — Nonsense ! M. Monk 
 will never allow me to share with a grocer a house he has 
 inhabited. He is too proud for that. Besides, why 
 should I say anything about it to him '? It was not with 
 the money of the company that I acquired that property, 
 it was wdth my mother-wit alone ; it is all mine, then. 
 So now I will go and find Athos ; " and he directed his 
 steps towards the dwelling of the Comte de la Fere. 
 
366 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXVIL ^ 
 HOW d'artagnan regulated the passive*' of the 
 
 COMPANY BEFORE HE ESTABLISHED ITS ACTIVE." 
 
 ^' Decidedly," said D'Artagnan to himself, " I am in good 
 vein. That star which shines once in the life of every 
 man, which shone for Job and Irus, the most unfortunate 
 of the Jews and the poorest of the Greeks, has come at last 
 to shine on me. I will commit no folly, I will take ad- 
 vantage 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 not forbear questioning his friend, 
 while he was eating, about country .^produce, sowing and 
 planting. Athos replied genially, as he always did. His 
 idea was that D Artagnan wished to become a proprietor ; 
 only he could not help regretting, more than once, the 
 absence of the lively humor and amusing sallies of the 
 cheerful companion of former days. In f\\ct, DArtagnan 
 was so absorbed, that, with his knife, he took advantage 
 of the grease left at the bottom of his plate, to trace 
 ciphers and make additions of surprising rotundity. 
 
 The order, or rather license, for their embarkation ar- 
 rived at Athos' lodgings that evening. At the same time 
 this paper was remitted to the count, another messenger 
 brought to DArtagnan a little bundle of parchments, 
 adorned with all the seals used in embellishing deeds of 
 real estate in England. Athos surprised him turning 
 over the leaves of these different deeds which effected the 
 
HOW D'ARTAGNAN REGULATED THE COMPANY. 367 
 
 transfer of property. The prudent Monk — others would 
 say the generous Monk — had commuted the donation 
 into a sale, and acknowledged the receipt of a sum of fif- 
 teen thousand livres as the price of the property ceded. 
 The messenger being gone, D'Artagnan still continued 
 reading. Athos watched him with a smile. DArtagnan, 
 surprising one of those smiles over his shoulder, put the 
 parchments into their wrapper. 
 " I beg your pardon," said Athos. 
 
 " Oh, you are not indiscreet, my friend,'* replied the 
 lieutenant ; " I will tell you — " 
 
 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 orders should never open his 
 mouth. Thus I, who speak to you, and love you more 
 tenderly than brother, father, or all the world — " 
 Except your Raoul 1 " 
 
 I shall love Raoul still better when he shall be a man, 
 and I shall have seen him develop himself in all the 
 phases of his character and his actions, — as I have seen 
 you, my friend." 
 
 You said, then, that you had an order likewise, and 
 that you would not communicate it to me." 
 " Yes, my dear D'Artagnan." 
 
 The Gascon sighed. " There was a time," said he, 
 " when you would have placed that order open upon the 
 table, saying, ' D'Artagnan, read this scrawl to Porthos, 
 Aramis, and me.' " 
 
 "That is true. Oh, that was the time of youth, confi- 
 dence, the generous season when the blood commands, 
 w^hen it is warmed by feeling ! " 
 
 " Well, Athos, will you allow me to tell you '] " 
 
 " Speak, my friend ! '* 
 That delightful time, that generous season, that 
 
368 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 domination of the heated 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 with 
 fools who would boast of the days of pensicms, ferules, 
 and crusts of dry bread. It is singular, but I never loved 
 all that : for my part, however active and sober I might 
 be (you knew if I was so, Athos), so simple as I might 
 appear in my clothes, I would not the less have preferred 
 the embroideries of Porthos to my little porous cassock, 
 which admitted the wind in winter and the sun in sum- 
 mer. Do you knowj my friend, I shall always mistrust 
 him who pretends to prefer evil to good. Now, in times 
 past, all was evil with me, — the times past in which every 
 month found a new hole in my cassock and in my skin, a 
 gold crown less in my poor purse ; of that execrable time 
 of small beer and see-saw, I regret absolutely nothing, 
 nothing, nothing but our friendship ; for within me I 
 ha\^ a heart, and it is a miracle that heart has not been 
 dried up -by the wind of poverty which passed through 
 the iioles of my cloak, or pierced by the swords of all 
 shapes which passed through the holes in my poor flesh." 
 
 Do not regret our friendship," said Athos ; that will 
 only die with ourselves. Friendship is composed, above 
 all things, of remembrances and habits ; and if you have 
 just now made a little satire upon mine, because I hesi- 
 tate to tell you the nature of my mission into France — " 
 Who 1 1 1 Oh, heavens ! if you knew, my dear 
 friend, how indifferent all the missions of the world will 
 henceforth become to me ! " and he laid his hand upon 
 the parchment in his vast pocket. 
 
 Athos rose from the table and called the host, in order 
 to pay the reckoning. 
 
 " Since I have known you, my friend, said D'Artagnan, 
 I have never discharged the reckoning. Porthos often 
 
ADVICE GIVEN TO LOUIS XIV. 
 
 433 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIL 
 
 HOW ANNE OF AUSTRIA GAVE ONE PIECE OP ADVICE 
 TO LOUIS XIV., AND HOW M. FOUQUET GAVE HIM 
 ANOTHER. 
 
 The news of the extremity into which the cardinal had 
 fallen had already spread, and attracted at least as much 
 attention among the people of the Louvre as the news of 
 the marriage of Monsieur, the king's brother, which had 
 already been announced as an official fact. Scarcely had 
 Louis XIV. returned home, with his thoughts fully occu- 
 pied with the various things he had seen and heard in 
 the course of the evening, when an usher announced that 
 the same crowd of courtiers who in the morning had 
 thronged his lever, presented themselves again at his 
 coucher, — a remarkable piece of respect which during the 
 reign of the cardinal the court, not very discreet in its 
 preferences, had accorded to the minister without caring 
 about displeasing the king. 
 
 Eut the minister had had, as we have said, an alarm- 
 ing attack of gout, and the tide of flattery was mounting 
 towards the throne. Courtiers have a marvellous in- 
 stinct in scenting events beforehand : they possess a 
 supreme science ; they are diplomatists to throw light 
 upon the unravelling of difficult circumstances, captains 
 to divine the issue of battles, and physicians to cure the 
 sick. Louis XIV., to whom his mother had taught this 
 commonplace truth, among many others, understood at 
 once that Monsieur the Cardinal must be very ill. 
 VOL. I.— 28 
 
434 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Scarcely had Anne of Austria conducted the young queen 
 to her apartments and reheved her brows of the head- 
 dress of ceremony, when she went to seek her son in his 
 cabinet, where, alone, melancholy and depressed, he spent 
 upon himself, as if to exercise his will, one of those ter- 
 rible inward passions — kings' passions — which create 
 events when they break out, and which with Louis XIY., 
 thanks to his astonishing command over himself, became 
 tempests so benign that his most violent, his unique 
 passion, that which Saint-Simon mentions with astonish- 
 ment, was that famous burst of anger which he exhibited 
 fifty years later, on the occasion of a little concealment 
 by the Due de Maine, and which had for result a shower 
 of blows inflicted w4th a cane upon the back of a poor 
 valet who had stolen a biscuit. The young king then 
 was, as we have seen, a prey to a double excitement ; and 
 he said to himself, as he looked in a glass : 0 king ! — 
 king by name, and not in fact ! — phantom, vain phan- 
 tom as thou art ! — inert statue, who hast no other 
 power than that of inciting salutations from courtiers ! — 
 when wilt thou be able to raise thy velvet arm, or clench 
 thy silken hand 1 When wilt thou be able to open, for 
 any purpose but to sigh or smile, lips condemned to the 
 motionless stupidity of the marbles of thy gallery 1 " 
 
 Then, passing his hand over his brow and feeling the 
 want of air, he approached a window, whence he saw be- 
 low some cavaliers talking together, and groups of the 
 timidly curious. These cavaliers were a portion of the 
 guard ; the groups were of the people, — to whom a king is 
 always a curious thing, as a rhinoceros, a crocodile, or a 
 serpent is. He struck his brow with his open hand, cry- 
 ing : " King of France ! what a title ! People of France 1 
 what a heap of creatures ! I have just returned to my 
 Louvre ; my horses, just unharnessed, are still smoking, 
 
ADVICE GIVEN TO LOUIS XIV. 
 
 435 
 
 and I have created interest enough to induce scarcely 
 twenty persons to look at me as I passed. Twenty ! what 
 do I say 1 — no ; there were not twenty anxious to see the 
 King of France. There are not even ten archers to guard 
 my place of residence ; archers, people, guards, all are at 
 the Palais-Eoyal ! My God! why^ Have not I, the 
 king, the right to ask you that 1 " 
 
 Because," said a voice, replying to his, and which 
 sounded from the other side of the door of the cabinet, — 
 because at the Palais-Royal there is all the gold, — that 
 is to say, all the power of him who desires to reign.'' 
 
 Louis turned sharply round. The voice which had 
 pronounced these words was that of Anne of Austria. 
 The king started, and advanced towards his mother. I 
 hope," said he, ^'your Majesty has paid no attention to 
 the vain declamations the idea of which the solitude 
 and disgust familiar to kings may give to the happiest 
 characters 1 " 
 
 *^ I paid attention to only one thing, my son, and that 
 was that you were complaining." 
 
 "Whol Not at all," said Louis XIV.; ^^no, in 
 truth, you mistake, Madame." 
 
 What were you doing then. Sire 1 " 
 I imagined I was under the ferule of ray professor, and 
 was developing a subject of amplification." 
 
 "My son," replied Anne of Austria, shaking her head, 
 you are wrong not to trust to my word ; you are wrong 
 not to grant me your confidence. A day will come, per- 
 haps quickly, wherein you will have occasion to remember 
 that axiom, ^ Gold is universal power ; and they alone are 
 kings who are all powerful.' " 
 
 " Your intention," continued the king, " was not, how- 
 ever, to cast blame upon the rich of this age, was it 1 " 
 
 " No," said the queen, warmly ; " no, Sire. They who 
 
436 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 are rich in this age, under your reign, are rich because 
 you have been willing they should be so ; and I entertain 
 for them neither malice nor envy. They have, without 
 doubt, served your Majesty sufficiently well to deserve 
 that your Majesty should permit them to reward them- 
 selves. That is what I mean to say by the words for 
 which you reproach me." 
 
 "God forbid, Madame, that I should ever reproach my 
 mother with anything ! " 
 
 " Besides," continued Anne of Austria, " the Lord 
 gives the goods of this world but for a season. The Lord, 
 as correctives to honor and riches, has placed sufferings, 
 sickness, and death ; and no one," added she, with a mel- 
 ancholy smile, which proved that she applied the funereal 
 precept to herself, — '* no one can take his wealth or his 
 greatness with him into the tomb. It thence results that 
 the young gather the abundant harvest prepared for them 
 by the old." 
 
 Louis listened with increased attention to the words 
 which Anne of Austria pronounced with a view, no doubt, 
 of consoling him. " Madame," said he looking earnestly 
 at his mother, " one would almost say you had something 
 else to announce to me." 
 
 I have absolutely nothing, my son ; only you cannot 
 have failed to remark that Monsieur the Cardinal is very 
 ill." 
 
 Louis looked at his mother, expecting some emotion in 
 her voice, some sorrow in her countenance. The face of 
 Anne of Austria was apparently a little changed, but that 
 w^as from a pain of quite a personal character. Per- 
 haps the alteration was caused by the cancer which had 
 begun to consume her breast. "Yes, Madame," said the 
 king; "yes, M. de Mazarin is very ill." 
 
 " And it would be a great loss to the kingdom if his 
 
ADVICE GIVEN TO LOUIS XIV. 
 
 437 
 
 Eminence were to be called away by God. Is not that 
 your opinion as well as mine, my son 1 " said the 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. Monsieur 
 the Cardinal is young yet." The king had scarcely 
 ceased speaking when an usher lifted the tapestry, and 
 stood with a paper in his hand, w^aiting for the king to 
 interrogate 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 moment he was about to open it, there was a 
 great noise in the gallery, the antechambers, and the 
 court. 
 
 ''Ah ! ah ! " said Louis XIV., who had no doubt what 
 the triple noise meant ; '' what did I say*? — there was but 
 one king in France 1 I was mistaken ; there are tw^o." 
 
 As he spoke or thought thus, the door opened, and the 
 superintendent of the finances, Fouquet, appeared before 
 Louis XI v. It was he who made the noise in the gallery ; 
 it was his lackeys who made the noise in the antechambers; 
 it was his horses that made the noise in the court. In 
 addition to all this a loud murmur was heard along his 
 course, which did not die away till some time after he had 
 passed. It was this murmur which Louis XIV. so much 
 regretted not hearing die away behind him, as he passed. 
 
 '' He is not precisely a king, as you fancy," said Anne 
 of Austria to her son. '' He is onlj^ a man who is much 
 too rich ; that is all." 
 
 While saying these words, a bitter feeling gave to the 
 words of the queen a most malicious expression ; whereas 
 the brow of the king, calm and self-possessed, on the con- 
 trary, was without the slightest wrinkle. He nodded, 
 
438 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 therefore, familiarly to Foaquet, while he continued to un- 
 fold the paper given to him by the usher. Fouquet per- 
 ceived this movement, and with a politeness at once easy 
 and respectful, advanced towards Anne of Austria, so as to 
 leave the king wholly at liberty. Louis had opened the 
 paper, and yet he did not read it. He heard Fouquet 
 making the most charming compliments to the queen 
 upon her hand and arm. The frown of Anne of Austria 
 relaxed a little ; she even almost smiled. Fouquet per- 
 ceived that the king, instead of reading, was attending to 
 him ; he turned half round, therefore, and thus, while con- 
 tinuing to be engaged with the queen, faced the king. 
 
 " You know, M. Fouquet," said Louis XIV., how ill 
 M. Mazarin is 1 " 
 
 " Yes, Sire, I know that," said Fouquet ; in fact, he 
 is very ill. I was at my country-house of Yaux when 
 the news reached me ; and the affair seemed so pressing 
 that I left at once." 
 
 " You left Yaux this evening. Monsieur ^ " 
 An hour and a half ago ; yes, your Majesty," said 
 Fouquet, consulting a watch 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 have reason to do so ; but I have really 
 come so quickly, though it is wonderful. I have received 
 from England three pairs of very fast horses, as I had 
 been assured. They were placed at distances of four 
 leagues apart, and I have tried them this evening. They 
 really brought me from Yaux to the Louvre in an hour 
 and a half ; so your Majesty sees I have not been cheated." 
 
 The queen-mother smiled with secret envy. But Fou- 
 quet caught her evil thought. '^Madame," he promptly 
 
ADVICE GIVEN TO LOUIS XIV. 
 
 439 
 
 said, such horses are made for kings, not for subjects ; 
 for kings ought never to yield to any one in anything." 
 
 The king looked up. 
 And yet," interrupted Anne of Austria, ^'you are not 
 a king, that I know of, M. Fouquet." 
 
 " And therefore, Madame, the horses only wait the 
 orders of his Majesty to enter the royal stables ; and if I 
 allowed myself to try them, it was only out of the fear of 
 offering to the king anything that was not positively 
 wonderful." 
 
 The king became quite red. 
 You know, M. Fouquet," said the queen, that at 
 the court of France it is not the custom for a subject to 
 offer anything to his king." 
 
 Louis started. 
 
 ^' I hoped, Madame," said Fouquet, much agitated, 
 ^'that my love for his Majesty, my incessant desire to 
 please him, would serve as a counterpoise to that scruple 
 of etiquette. It was not, besides, so much a present that 
 I permitted myself to offer, as a tribute I paid." 
 
 "Thank you, M. Fouquet," said the king, politely; 
 " and I am gratified by your intention, for I love good 
 horses. But you know I am not very rich ; you, who are 
 my superintendent of finances, know it better 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 look of haughtiness at the queen- 
 mother, who appeared to triumph at the false position the 
 minister had got into, and replied : *^ Luxury is the virtue 
 of kings, Sire ; it is luxury which makes them resemble 
 God ; it is by luxury they are more than other men. 
 With luxury a king nourishes his subjects, and honors 
 them. Under the mild heat of this luxury of kings 
 springs the luxury of individuals, a source of riches for 
 
440 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 the people. His Majesty, by accepting the gift of these 
 six incomparable horses, would have piqued the self-love 
 of the breeders of our countrj^, — of Limousin, Perche, 
 and Normandie, — and this emulation would have been 
 beneficial to all. But the king is silent, and consequently 
 I am condemned." 
 
 During this speech Louis was unconsciously folding 
 and unfolding Mazarin's paper, upon which he had not 
 cast his eyes. At length he glanced at it, and uttered a 
 faint cry on reading the first line. 
 
 " What is the matter, my son*?" asked the queen, anx- 
 iously, and going towards the king. 
 
 " From the cardinal," replied the king, continuing to 
 read ; "yes, yes, it is really from him." 
 
 ^^Is he worse, thenV 
 
 " Eead ! " said the king, passing the parchment to his 
 mother, as if he thought that nothing less than reading 
 would convince Anne of Austria of a thing so astonishing 
 as was conveyed in that paper. 
 
 Anne of Austria read in her turn ; and as she read, her 
 eyes sparkled with a joy the more apparent for her use- 
 less endeavor to hide it, which attracted the attention of 
 Fouquet. "Oh! a regularly drawn up deed of donation," 
 said she. 
 
 " A donation 1 " repeated Fouquet. 
 
 " Yes," said the king, replying pointedly to the super- 
 intendent of finances, — " yes, at the point of death, 
 Monsieur the Cardinal makes me a donation of all his 
 wealth.'' 
 
 "Forty millions!" cried the queen. " Oh, my son, 
 this is very noble on the part of Monsieur the Cardinal, 
 and will silence all malicious rumors ; forty millions 
 scraped together slowly, coming back all in one heap to 
 the royal treasury ! It is the act of a faithful subject 
 
ADVICE GIVEN TO LOUIS XIV. 
 
 441 
 
 and a good Christian." And having once more cast her 
 eyes over the letter, she restored it to Louis XIV., whom 
 the announcement of that enormous sum greatly excited. 
 
 Fouquet had taken some steps backward, and remained 
 silent. The king looked at him, and held the paper out 
 to him, in his turn. The superintendent only bestowed a 
 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 to it, and that immediately." 
 
 <^But how, Madame 1" 
 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 who has just made such a present 
 has a good right to expect to be thanked for it with some 
 degree of promptitude." Then turning towards Fouquet, 
 "Is not that likewise your opinion. Monsieur'?" 
 
 That the present is worth the trouble 1 Yes, Ma- 
 dame," said Fouquet, with a 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," continued 
 
442 
 
 THE VICOxMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Fouquet ; " because kings ought not to and cannot receive 
 presents from their subjects." 
 
 The king remained mute between these two so opposite 
 opinions. 
 
 But forty millions ! " said Anne of Austria, in the 
 same tone as that in which, at a later period, poor Marie 
 Antoinette replied, You will tell me so much ! " 
 
 " I know," said Fouquet, laughing, " forty millions are 
 a good round sum, — such a sum as could tempt even 
 a royal conscience." 
 
 " But, Monsieur," said Anne of Austria, instead of 
 persuading the king not to receive this present, recall to 
 his Majesty's mind — you, whose duty it is — that these 
 forty millions are a fortune to him." 
 
 It is precisely, Madame, because these forty millions 
 would be a fortune that I will say to the king, ' Sire, if it 
 be not decent for a king to accept from a subject six 
 horses, worth twenty thousand livres, it would be dis- 
 graceful for him to owe a fortune to another subject, 
 more or less scrupulous in the choice of the materials 
 which contributed to the building up of that fortune." 
 
 " It ill becomes you, Monsieur, to give your king a 
 lesson," said Anne of Austria; rather procure him forty 
 millions to replace those you make him lose." 
 
 " The king shall have them whenever he wishes," said 
 the superintendent of the finances, bownng. 
 
 "Yes ; by oppressing the people," said the queen. 
 
 "And were they not oppressed, Madame," replied 
 Fouquet, " when they were made to sweat the forty 
 miUions given by this deed 1 Furthermore, his Majesty 
 has asked my opinion, — I have given it ; if his Majesty 
 asks my concurrence, it will be the same." 
 
 " Nonsense ! accept, my son, accept ! " said Anne of 
 Austria. " You are above reports and interpretations." 
 
ADVICE GIVEN TO LOUIS XIV. 443 
 
 " Refuse, Sire ! " said Fouquet. As long as a king 
 lives, he has no other measure but his conscience, no 
 other judge but his own desires; but when dead, there is 
 posterity, which applauds or accuses." 
 
 "Thank you, Mother," replied Louis, bowing respect- 
 fully to the queen. ^' Thank you, M. Fouquet," said he, 
 dismissing the superintendent civilly. 
 
 ^' Do you accept ] " asked Anne of Austria, once more. 
 
 ^' I will reflect," replied he, looking at Fouquet. 
 
444 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 AGONY. 
 
 The day after the deed of donation had been sent to the 
 king, the cardinal caused himself to be transported to 
 Vincennes. The king and the court followed him thither. 
 The last flashes of this torch still cast splendor enough 
 around to absorb in its radiations all other lights. Be- 
 sides, as has been seen, the faithful satellite of his 
 minister, young Louis XIV., marched, even to the last 
 minute, in accordance with his gravitation. The disease, 
 as Guenaud had predicted, had gained the mastery ; it 
 was no longer an attack of gout, but of death. Then 
 there was another thing which made that agony more 
 agonizing still ; and that was the agitation introduced 
 into his mind by the donation he had sent to the king, 
 and which, according to Colbert, the king ought to 
 send back not accepted to the cardinal. The cardinal 
 had, as we have seen, great faith in the predictions of his 
 secretary ; but the sum was a large one, and whatever 
 migh^ be the genius of Colbert, from time to time the 
 cardinal thought to himself that the Theatin also might 
 possibly have been mistaken, and that there was at least 
 as much chance of his not being damned as there was 
 that Louis XIV. would send him back his millions. Be- 
 sides, the longer the donation was in coming back, the 
 more Mazarin thought that forty millions were worth 
 a little risk, particularly of so hypothetical a thing as the 
 soul. Mazarin, in his character of cardinal and prime 
 
AGONY. 
 
 445 
 
 minister, was almost an atheist, and quite a materialist. 
 Every time that the door opened, he turned sharply 
 round, expecting to see the return of his unfortunate 
 donation; then, deceived in his hope, he lay down again 
 with a sigh, and found his pains so much the greater for 
 having forgotten them for an instant. 
 
 Anne of Austria had also followed the cardinal; her 
 heart, though age had made it selfish; could not help 
 evincing towards the dying man a sorrow which she 
 owed him as a wife, according to some ; and as a sover- 
 eign, according to others. She had, in some sort, put 
 mourning in her countenance beforehand ; and all the 
 court wore it as she did. 
 
 Louis, in order not to show on his face what was 
 passing at the bottom of his heart, persisted in re- 
 maining in his own apartments, where his nurse alone 
 kept him company ; the more he reckoned upon the 
 approach of the time wheil all constraint would be at 
 an end, the more humble and patient he was, falling 
 back upon himself, as all strong men do when they form 
 great designs, in order to gain more spring at the decisive 
 moment. 
 
 Extreme unction had been administered secretly to the 
 cardinal, who, fiiithful to his habits of dissimulation, strug- 
 gled against appearances, and even against reality, receiv- 
 ing company while on his bed, as if afflicted with a merely 
 temporary complaint. Guenaud, on his part, preserved 
 profound secrecy; fatigued with visits and questions, he 
 answered only, His Eminence is still full of youth and 
 strength, but God wills that which he wills ; and when 
 he has decided that man is to be laid low, he will be laid 
 low.*' These words, which he scattered with a sort of 
 discretion, reserve, and selection, were commented upon 
 earnestly by two persons, — the king and the cardinal. 
 
446 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Mazarin, notwithstanding the prophecy of Guenaud, still 
 deceived himself, or rather so well played his part that 
 the most cunning, w^hen saying he deceived himself, 
 proved that they w^ere his dupes. 
 
 Louis, absent from the cardinal two days, — Louis, 
 with his eyes fixed upon that same donation which so 
 constantly preoccupied the cardinal, — Louis did not 
 exactly know how to interpret Mazarin's conduct. The 
 son of Louis XIIL, following the paternal traditions, had 
 hitherto been so little of a king, that, while ardently 
 desiring royalty, he desired it with that terror which 
 always accompanies the unknow^n. Thus, having formed 
 his resolution, which, besides, he communicated to no- 
 body, he determined to have an interview \Vith Mazarin. 
 It was Anne of Austria, who, constant in her attendance 
 upon the cardinal, first heard this proposition of the king, 
 and who transmitted it to the dying man, whom it greatly 
 agitated. For what purpose could Louis wish for an in- 
 terview 1 Was it to return the deed, as Colbert had said 
 he would '? Was it to keep it after thanking him, as 
 Mazarin thought he w^ould '? Nevertheless, as the dying 
 man felt that the uncertainty increased his torments, he 
 did not hesitate an instant. 
 
 " His Majesty wall be welcome, — yes, very welcome,'* 
 cried he, making Colbert, who w^as seated at the foot of 
 the bed, a sign which the latter comprehended perfectly. 
 
 Madame," continued Mazarin, will your Majesty be 
 good enough to assure the king yourself of the truth of 
 w^hat I have just said 1 " 
 
 Anne of Austria rose ; she herself was anxious to see a 
 decision reached in regard to the forty millions which 
 seemed to lie heavy on the mind of everybody. Anne of 
 Austria went out. Mazarin made a great effort, and rais- 
 ing himself up towards Colbert, Well, Colbert," said 
 
AGONY. 
 
 447 
 
 he, " two days have passed away, — two mortal days, — 
 and, you see, nothing has come back from yonder/' 
 ^' Patience, Monseigneur ! " said Colbert. 
 Art thou mad, thou wretch 1 Thou advisest me to 
 have patience ! Oh, in sad truth, Colbert, thou art laugh- 
 I ing at me. I am dying, and thou callest out to me to 
 ^ wait ! " 
 
 Monseigneur," said Colbert, with his habitual cool- 
 ness, " it is impossible that things should not fall out as 
 I have said. His Majesty is coming to see you ; and, no 
 doubt, he brings back the deed himself." 
 
 ^' Do you think so'? Well, I, on the contrary, am sure 
 that his Majesty is coming to thank me." 
 
 At this moment Anne of Austria returned. On her 
 way to the apartments of her son, she had met in the 
 antechambers a new empiric. There was a suggestion of 
 a powder which, it was said, had power to save the cardi- 
 nal ; and she brought a portion of this powder with her. 
 But this was not what Mazarin expected ; therefore he 
 would not even look at it, declaring that life was not 
 worth the pains that were taken to preserve it. But 
 while professing this philosophical axiom, his long-con- 
 fined secret escaped him at last. 
 
 " That, Madame," said he, — " that is not the interesting 
 part of my situation. I made the king, now two days 
 ago, a little donation ; up to this time, from delicacy no 
 doubt, his Majesty has not condescended to say anything 
 about it ; but the time for explanation has come, and I im- 
 plore your Majesty to tell me if the king has any ideas on 
 the subject." 
 
 Anne of Austria was about to reply, when Mazarin 
 stopped her. 
 
 *'The truth, Madame," said he, — "in the name of 
 Heaven, the truth ! Do not flatter a dying man with 
 
448 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 a hope that may prove vain ! " There he stopped, 
 a look from Colbert teUing him that he was on a wrong 
 tack. 
 
 " I know/' said Anne of Austria, taking the cardinal's 
 hand, — "I know that you have generously made, not a 
 little donation, as you with so much modesty call it, but 
 a magnificent gift. I know how painful it would be to 
 you if the king — " 
 
 Mazarin listened, dying as he was, as ten living men 
 could not have listened. 
 
 If the king — " replied he. 
 
 ^' If the king," continued Anne of Austria, "should not 
 freely accept what you 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 yields to the tempest ; but he still preserved 
 sufficient strength and presence of mind to cast upon Col- 
 bert one of those looks which are well worth ten sonnets, 
 — that is to say, ten long poems. 
 
 Should you not," added the queen, " have considered 
 the refusal of the king as a sort of insult 1 " 
 
 Mazarin rolled his head about upon his pillow, with- 
 out articulating a syllable. The queen was deceived, or 
 feigned to be deceived, by this demonstration. 
 
 " Therefore," resumed she, " I have surrounded him 
 with good counsels ; and as certain minds, jealous, no 
 doubt, of the glory you are about to acquire by this gen- 
 erosity, have endeavored to prove to the king that he 
 ought not to accept this donation, I have struggled in 
 your favor ; and so well have I struggled, that you will 
 not have, I hope, that annoyance to undergo." 
 
 "Ah ! " murmured Mazarin, with languishing eyes, — 
 " ah ! that is a service I shall never forget for a single 
 minute during the few hours I have to live/' 
 
AGO^^Y. 
 
 449 
 
 I must admit," continued the queen, ' that it was 
 not without trouble I rendered it to your Eminence." 
 
 " Ah, 2^este! I beheve that. Oh ! oh ! " 
 
 " Good God ! what is the matter ? " 
 
 " I am burning ! " 
 
 " Do you suffer much 1 " 
 As much as one of the damned." 
 
 Colbert wished that he might sink through the flooring. 
 
 "So, then," resumed Mazarin, your Majesty thinks 
 that the king " — he stopped several seconds — " that the 
 king is coming here to offer me a little turn of thanks T' 
 I think so," said the queen. 
 
 Mazarin annihilated Colbert with his last look. 
 
 At that moment the ushers announced that the king 
 was in the antechambers, -which were filled with people. 
 This announcement produced a stir, of which Colbert took 
 advantage to escape by the door of the recess. Anne of 
 Austria rose, and awaited her son, standing. Louis XIY. 
 appeared at the threshold of the door, with his eyes fixed 
 upon the dying man, w^ho did not even think it worth 
 while to notice his Majesty, from w^hom he thought he 
 had nothing more to expect. An usher placed a chair 
 close to the bed. Louis bowed to his mother, then to the 
 cardinal, and sat down. The queen took a seat in her 
 turn. Then, as the king had looked behind him, the 
 usher understood him, and made a sign to the courtiers 
 who filled up the doorway to be gone, which they in- 
 stantly obeyed. Silence fell upon the chamber with the 
 velvet curtains. The king, still very young, and very 
 timid in the presence of him who had been his master 
 from his birth, still felt respect for Mazarin, particularly 
 now, when touched with the supreme majesty of death. 
 He did not dare, therefore, to begin the conversation, feel- 
 ing that every word must have its bearing upon things not 
 VOL. I. — 29 
 
450 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELOKNE. 
 
 only of this world, but of the next. As to the cardinal, 
 at that moment be bad but one thought, — his donation. 
 It was not physical pain which gave him that air of de- 
 spondency and that lugubrious look ; it was the expecta- 
 tion of the thanks that were about to issue from the 
 king's mouth, and cut off all hope of restitution. 
 
 Mazarin was the hrst to break the silence. Has 
 your Majesty come to make any stay at Yincennesr' 
 said he. 
 
 Louis made an affirmative sign with his head. 
 That is a gracious favor granted to a dying man," 
 continued Mazarin, ^' and will render death milder to 
 him." 
 
 " I hope,'' replied the king, I have come to visit, not 
 a dying man, but a sick man susceptible of cure." 
 
 Mazarin replied by a movement of the head which 
 signified, " 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 the Cardinal," said Louis, " I 
 would come a last time to ask the counsels of a guide to 
 whom I owe everything." 
 
 Anne of Austria was a woman ; she could not restrain 
 her tears. Louis showed himself much affected ; and Ma- 
 zarin still more than his two guests, but from very differ- 
 ent motives. Here the silence returned. The queen 
 wiped her eyes, and the king regained his firmness. 
 
 ^* I was saying," continued the king, " that I owed 
 much to your Eminence." The eyes of the cardinal de- 
 voured the king, for he felt that the great moment had 
 come. And," continued Louis, the principal object 
 of my visit was to ofier you very sincere thanks for the 
 last evidence of friendship you have kindly sent me." 
 
 The cheeks of the cardinal sank in, his lips partially 
 
AGONY. 
 
 451 
 
 opened, and the most lamentable sigh he had ever uttered 
 was about to issue from his chest. ^' Sire/' said he, I 
 may have despoiled my poor family, I may have ruined 
 all that 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 to sacrifice everything to my king.'' 
 
 Anne of Austria's tears flowed afresh. 
 
 " My dear M. de Mazarin," said the king, in a more 
 serious tone than might have been expected from his 
 youth, " you have misunderstood me, apparently." Ma- 
 zarin raised himself upon his elbow. I have no purpose 
 to despoil your dear family, nor to ruin your servants. 
 Oh, no, that shall never be ! " 
 
 Humph ! " thought Mazarin, he is going to restore 
 me some bribe ; let us get the largest piece out of the 
 trap 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 : such an opportunity for 
 gaining a fortune will never occur again." 
 
 Sire," said the cardinal, aloud, " my family is very 
 numerous, and my nieces will be destitute when I am 
 gone." 
 
 " Oh ! " interrupted the queen, eagerly, " have no un- 
 easiness with respect to your family, dear M. de Mazarin ! 
 We have no friends dearer than your friends. Yonr 
 nieces shall be my children, the sisters of his Majesty ; 
 and if a favor be distributed in France, it shall be to those 
 you love." 
 
 " Smoke ! " thought Mazarin, who knew better than 
 any one the faith that can be put in the promises of kings. 
 Louis read the dying man's thought in his face. 
 
 Be comforted, my dear M. de Mazarin ! " said he, 
 with a half-smile, sad under its irony. " The Mesde- 
 
452 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 moiselles de Mancini will lose, when losing you, their 
 most precious good ; but they shall none the less be the 
 richest heiresses of France. And «ince you have been 
 kind enough to give me their dowry," — the cardinal 
 was panting, — I restore it to them," continued Louis, 
 drawing from his breast and holding towards the cardi- 
 nal's bed the parchment which contained the donation that 
 during two days had occasioned such tempests in the 
 mind of Mazarin. 
 
 " What did I tell you, Monseigneur 1 " murmured in 
 the recess a voice which passed away like a breath. 
 
 " Your Majesty returns me my donation ! " cried Ma- 
 zarin, so disturbed by joy as to forget his character of 
 a benefactor. 
 
 Your Majesty rejects the forty millions ! " cried Anne 
 of Austria, so stupefied as to forget her character of one 
 in affliction. 
 
 Yes, Monsieur the Cardinal ; yes, Madame,'* replied 
 Louis XIV., tearing the parchment which Mazarin had 
 not yet ventured to clutch ; ^'yes, I annihilate this deed 
 which despoiled a whole family. The wealth acquired by 
 his Eminence in my service is his own wealth, and not 
 mine." 
 
 *^ But, Sire, does your Majesty reflect," said Anne of 
 Austria, " that you have not ten thousand crowns in your 
 coffers ^ " 
 
 Madame, I have just performed my first royal action, 
 and I hope it will worthily inaugurate my reign." 
 
 "Ah, Sire, you are right!" cried Mazarin; ^Hhat is 
 truly great, that is truly generous, which you have 
 just done;" and he looked scrutinizingly at the various 
 pieces of parchment spread over his bed, to assure him- 
 self that it w\as the original and not a copy that had 
 been torn. At length his eyes fell upon the fragment 
 
AGONY. 
 
 453 
 
 M^hich bore his signature, and recognizing it, he sank 
 back swooning on his bolster. Anne of Austria, without 
 strength to conceal her regret, raised her hands and eyes 
 towards heaven. , 
 
 ^'Ah, Sire," cried Mazarin, "ah. Sire, be you blessed! 
 ]\[y God ! may you be beloved by all my family ! Per 
 Baccho I if ever any discontent comes to you from those 
 belonging to me, Sire, only frown, and I will rise from 
 my tomb ! 
 
 This bombast did not produce all the effect Mazarin 
 had reckoned upon. Louis had already passed to consid- 
 erations of a more elevated nature ; and as to Anne of 
 Austria, unable to support, without abandoning herself to 
 the anger she felt burning within her, the magnanimity 
 of her son and the hypocrisy of the cardinal, she arose 
 and left the chamber, heedless of thus betraying the ex- 
 tent of her grief. Mazarin saw all this, and fearing that 
 Louis XIV. might repent of his decision, began, in order 
 to draw attention another way, to cry out, — as at a 
 later period Scapin was to cry out, in that sublime piece 
 of pleasantry for which the morose and grumbling Boileau 
 dared to reproach Moliere. His cries, however, by de- 
 grees became fainter ; and when Anne of Austria left the 
 apartment, they ceased altogether. 
 
 Monsieur the Cardinal," said the king, have you 
 any recommendations to make to me " 
 
 ^' Sire," replied Mazarin, you are already wisdom it- 
 self, prudence personified. Of your generosity I will not 
 venture to speak ; that which you have just done exceeds 
 all that the most generous men of antiquity or of modern 
 times have ever done." 
 
 The king received this praise coldly. So you confine 
 yourself. Monsieur," said he, to your thanks ; and your 
 experience, much more extensive than my wisdom, my 
 
454 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONXE. 
 
 prudence, or my generosity, does not furnish me with a 
 single piece of friendly advice to guide my future." 
 
 Mazarin reflected for a moment. You have just done 
 much for me, Sire/' said he, — " that is, for mine." 
 
 " Say no more about that," said the king. 
 
 "Well !" continued Mazarin, ''I will return you some- 
 thing in exchange for these forty millions you have given 
 up so royally." Louis XIY., by a movement, indicated 
 that these flatteries were unpleasing to him. I wall 
 give you a piece of advice," continued Mazarin; "yes, 
 a piece of advice, — advice more precious than the forty 
 millions." 
 
 "Monsieur the 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 tone that the breath of his words 
 came only like a recommendation from the tomb to the 
 attentive ears of the king, — " Sire, never have a prime 
 minister." 
 
 Louis drew back astonished. The advice was a con- 
 fession ; a treasure, in fact, was that sincere confession 
 of Mazarin. The legacy of the cardinal to the young 
 king was composed of six w^ords only ; but those six 
 words, as ]\razarin had said, were worth forty millions. 
 Louis remained for an instant confounded. As for 
 ]\Lazarin, he appeared only to have said something quite 
 natural. "And now, on the part of your family," asked 
 the young king, " have you any one to commend to me, 
 M. de Mazarin ] " 
 
 A little scratching w\as heard along the curtains of 
 the recess. Mazarin understood. " Yes, yes ! " cried he, 
 
AGONY. 
 
 455 
 
 warmly; *Wes, Sire, I recommend to you a wise man, an 
 honest man, and a clever man." 
 
 " Tell me his name, Monsieur the Cardinal." 
 
 "His name is yet almost unknown, Sire; it is M. 
 Colbert, my intendant. Oh, try him ! " added Mazarin, 
 in an earnest voice ; " all that he has predicted has come 
 to pass. He has a safe glance ; he is never mistaken 
 either in things or in men, — which is more surprising 
 still. Sire, I owe you much, but I think I acquit myself 
 of all towards you in giving you M. Colbert." 
 
 " So be it/' said Louis, faintly ; for as Mazarin had 
 said, the name of Colbert was quite unknown to him, and 
 he thought the enthusiasm of the cardinal partook of the 
 delirium of a dying man. The cardinal sank back on his 
 pillow. 
 
 " For the present, adieu. Sire, adieu ! " murmured 
 Mazarin. I am tired, and I have yet a rough journey 
 to perform before I present myself to my new master. 
 Adieu, Sire ! " 
 
 The young king felt the tears rise to his eyes ; he 
 bent over the dying man, already half dead, and then 
 precipitately retired. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
HOW D'ARTAGNAN REGULATED THE COMPANY. 369 
 
 did, Aramis sometimes, and yoii — you almost always 
 drew out your purse with the dessert. I am now rich, 
 and 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 w^atch the transport of his precious 
 crowns. ^s^ight had just spread her thick veil over the 
 yellow waters of the Thames ; they heard those noises of 
 casks and pulleys, the precursors of getting under sail 
 which had so many times made the hearts of the muske- 
 teers beat when the dangers of the sea were the least of 
 thooG they were going to face. This time they were to 
 em})ark on board a large vessel which awaited them at 
 Gravesend ; and Charles II., always delicate in small 
 matters, had sent one of his yachts, with twelve men of 
 his Scotch guard, to do honor to the ambassador he was 
 deputing to France. At midnight the yacht had depos- 
 ited its passengers on board the vessel, and at eight 
 o'clock in the morning the vessel landed the ambassador 
 and his friend before the pier at Boulogne. 
 
 While the count, with Grimaud, was busy in procuring 
 horses to go straight to Paris, D'Artagnan hastened to the 
 hostelry where, according to his orders, his little army 
 was to wait for him. These gentlemen were at breakfast 
 upon oysters, fish, and aromatized brandy, when D'Ar- 
 tagnan appeared. They were all very gay, but not one 
 of them had yet exceeded the bounds of reason. A hurrah 
 of joy welcomed the general. 
 
 ''Here I am," said D'Artagnan ; "the campaign is 
 ended. I have come to bring each his supplement of 
 pay, as agreed upon." Their eyes sparkled. " I will lay 
 a wager there are not, already, a hundred livres remaining 
 in the purse of the richest among you." 
 VOL. I. — 24 
 
370 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BEAGELONNE. 
 
 " Tliat is true ! " cried they in chorus. 
 Gentlemen/' said D'Artagnan, then this is the last 
 order. The treaty of commerce has been concluded, 
 thanks to our exploit which made us masters of the most 
 skilful financier of England ; for now I am at liberty to 
 confess to you that the man we had to carry off was the 
 treasurer of General Monk.'' 
 
 This word treasurer " produced a certain effect in his 
 army. D'Artagnan observed that the eyes of Menneville 
 alone did not evince perfect faith. 
 
 This treasurer," continued D'Artagnan, " I have con- 
 veyed to a neutral territory, Holland ; I have forced him 
 to sign the treaty ; I have even reconducted him to New- 
 castle ; and as he was obliged to be satisfied with our 
 proceedings towards him, — the deal box being always 
 carried without jolting, and being lined softly, — I asked 
 for a gratification for you. Here it is." He threw a 
 respectable-looking purse upon the cloth ; and all, invol- 
 untarily, stretched out their hands. One moment, my 
 lambs," said DArtagnan; ^'if there are benefits, there 
 are also charges." 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! " murmured they. 
 We are about to find ourselves, my friends, in a posi- 
 tion that would not be tenable for people without brains. I 
 speak plainly ; we are between the gallows and the Bastille." 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! " said the chorus. 
 That is easy to be understood. It was necessary to 
 explain to General Monk the disappearance of his treas- 
 urer. I waited for that purpose, till the very unhoped- 
 for moment of the restoration of King Charles IL, who is 
 one of my friends." 
 
 The army exchanged a glance of satisfaction in reply 
 to the sufficiently proud look of D'Artagnan. The king 
 being restored, I restored Monk his man of business, — a 
 
HOW D'ARTAGNAN REGULATED THE COMPANY. 371 
 
 little plucked, it is true, — but, in short, I restored him. 
 Now, General Monk, when he pardoned me, — for he has 
 pardoned me, — could not help repeating these words to 
 me, which I charge every one of you to engrave deeply 
 there, between the eyes, under the vault of the cranium : 
 ^Monsieur, the joke has been a good one, but I don't 
 naturally like jokes ; if ever a word of what you have 
 done ' (you understand me, M. Menneville) ' escapes from 
 your lips, or the lips of your companions, I have, in my 
 government of Scotland and Ireland, seven hundred and 
 forty-one wooden gibbets, of strong oak, clamped with 
 iron, and newly greased every week. I will make a pres- 
 ent of one of these gibbets to each of you ; and observe 
 well, M. d'Artagnan,' added he (remark it also, M. Menne- 
 ville), ' I shall still have seven hundred and thirty left for 
 my private pleasures. And still further — ' " 
 
 " Ah ! ah ! " said the auxiliaries, is there more still 1 " 
 One trouble more. ^ M. d'Artagnan, I send to the 
 King of France the treaty in question, with a request 
 tliat he will cast into the Bastille provisionally, and then 
 send to me, all who have taken part in this expedition ; 
 and that is a prayer with which the king will certainly 
 comply.' 
 
 A cry of terror broke from all corners of the table. 
 There! there!" said D'Artagnan, ^' this brave M. 
 Monk has forgotten one thing, and that is that he does 
 not know the name of any one of you ; I alone know you, 
 and it is not I, you may well believe, who will betray 
 you. Why should I ] As for you, I cannot suppose you 
 will be silly enough to denounce yourselves ; for then the 
 king, to spare himself the expenses of feeding and lodg- 
 ing you, will send you off to Scotland, where the seven 
 hundred and forty-one gibbets are to be found. That 
 is all, Messieurs; I have not another word to add to 
 
372 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONXE. 
 
 what I have had the honor to tell you. I am sure you 
 have understood me perfectly well, have you not, M. 
 Menneville? 
 
 " Perfectly," replied the latter. 
 Xow the crowns!'* said D'Artagnan. *^Shut the 
 doors," he cried ; and opened the bag upon the table, from 
 wliich rolled several fine gold crowns. Every one made 
 a movement towards the floor. 
 
 " Gently ! cried D'Artagnan, I insist upon it nobody 
 stoops, and then I shall not be out in my reckoning." 
 He found it all right ; gave fifty of those splendid crowns 
 to each man, and received as many benedictions as he 
 bestowed pieces. ^' Now," said he, if it were possible 
 for you to reform a little, if you could become good and 
 honest citizens — " 
 
 '^That is rather difficult," said one of the troop. 
 
 "What then, Captain T' said another. 
 
 " Because I might be able to find you again ; and, who 
 knows? refreshed from time to time by some windfall — " 
 He made a sign to Menneville, w^ho listened to all he said 
 with a composed air. Menneville," said he, "come with 
 me. Adieu, my brave fellows ! I need not recommend 
 you to be discreet." 
 
 IMenneville followed him, while the salutations of the 
 auxiliaries w^ere mingled w^ith the sweet sound of the 
 money clinking in their pockets. 
 
 " Menneville," said D'Artagnan, w^hen they were once 
 in ths street, " you are not duped ; beware of being so. 
 You do not appear to me to have any fear of the gibbets 
 of Monk, or the Bastille of his Majesty King Louis XIV., 
 but you will do me the favor of being afraid of me. 
 Then listen : at the smallest word that shall escape you, 
 I will kill you as I would a fowl. I have absolution from 
 our holy Father the Pope in my pocket.'* 
 
HOW D'AKTAGNAN REGULATED THE COMPANY. 373 
 
 I assure you I know absolutely nothing, my dear M. 
 d'Artagnan, and that your 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 twenty-five years. 
 These fifty gold crowns which I give you more than the 
 rest, will prove the estimation T hold you in. Take them.'^ 
 Thanks, M. d'Artagnan," said Menneville. 
 
 " With that sum you can really become an honest 
 man/' replied D'Artagnan, in the most serious tone pos- 
 sible. *^It would be disgraceful for a mind like yours, 
 and a name you no longer dare to bear, to sink forever 
 under the rust of an evil life. Become a gallant man, 
 Menneville, and live for a year upon those hundred gold 
 crowns : it is a good provision ; twice that of a high 
 officer. In a year come to me, and, mordioux I I will 
 make something of you." 
 
 Menneville swore, as his comrades had sworn, that he 
 would be as mute as the tomb. And yet some one must 
 have spoken ; and as to a certainty it was not one of 
 the nine companions, as equally certainly it was not 
 Menneville, it must have been D'Artagnan, who in his 
 quality of a Gascon had his tongue very near his lips. 
 For in short if it was not he, who could it be '? And 
 how can it be explained that the secret of the deal box 
 pierced with holes should come to our knowledge, and in 
 so complete a fashion that we have, as has been seen, 
 related the history of it in all its most intimate details, 
 — details which, besides, throw a light as new as unex- 
 pected upon all that portion of the history of England 
 which has been left, up to the present day, completely in 
 the shade by our brother historians % 
 
374 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXVIII. 
 
 IN WHICH IT IS SEEN THAT THE FRENCH GROCER HAD 
 ALREADY BEEN ESTABLISHED IN THE SEVENTEENTH 
 CENTURY. 
 
 His accounts once ssttled, and his recommendations made, 
 D'Artagnan thought of nothing but regaining Paris as 
 soon as possible. Athos, on his part, was anxious to 
 reach home and to repose a little. However entire may- 
 remain the character and the man after the fatigues of a 
 voyage, the traveller perceives with pleasure, at the close 
 of the day, — even though the day has been a fine one, — 
 that night is approaching, and will bring a little sleep 
 with it. So, from Boulogne to Paris, jogging on side by 
 side, the two friends, in some degree absorbed each in his 
 individual thoughts, conversed of nothing sufficiently in- 
 teresting for us to present to our readers. Each of them, 
 given up to his personal reflections, and constructing his 
 future after his own fashion, was, above all, anxious to 
 abridge the distance by speed. Athos and DArtagnan 
 arrived at the barriers of Paris on the evening of the 
 fourth day after leaving Boulogne. 
 
 " Where are you going, my friend 1 " asked Athos. " I 
 shall direct my course straight to my hotel.** 
 
 "And I straight to my partner's.'* 
 
 " To Planchet's 1 " 
 
 " Good Lord ! yes ; at the Pilon d'Or." 
 
 " Well, but shall we not meet again 1 " 
 
 " If you remain in Paris, yes ; for I shall stay here." 
 
THE FRENCH GROCER. 
 
 375 
 
 No ; after having embraced Raoul, with whom I have 
 appointed a meeting at my hotel, I shall set out immedi- 
 ately for La Fere." 
 
 "Well, adieu, then, dear and true friend." 
 Au revoir I I should rather say, for why can you not 
 come and live with me at Blois] You are free ; you are 
 rich. I will purchase for you, if you like, a handsome 
 property in the environs of Chiverny or of Bracieux. On 
 the one side you will have the finest woods in the world, 
 which join those of Chambord ; on the other, admirable 
 niarshes. You who love sporting, and who whether you 
 admit it or not are a poet, my dear friend, you will find 
 pheasants, rail, and teal, without reckoning sunsets and 
 excursions on the water, to make you fancy yourself Nim- 
 rod and Apollo themselves. Awaiting the acquisition, 
 you can live at La Fere, and we will go together to fly 
 our hawks among the vines, as Louis XIIL 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 will say neither ^ Yes ' nor ' No.* Let 
 me pass in Paris the time necessary for the regulation of 
 my affairs, and accustom myself, by degrees, to the heavy 
 and glittering idea which is beating in my brains and 
 dazzles them. I am rich, do you see ; and from this mo- 
 ment till I shall have acquired the habit of being rich, — 
 I know myself, — I shall be an unendurable animal. 
 Now, I am not enough of a fool to wish to appear to have 
 lost my wits before a friend like you, Athos. The habit 
 is handsome, the habit is richly gilded, but it is new, and 
 does not seem to fit me." 
 
 Athos smiled. So be it," said he. "But a propos of 
 this habit, dear D'Artagnan, will you allow me to o£fer 
 you a little advice 1 " 
 
 " Yes, willingly." 
 
376 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " You will not be angry ? " 
 Proceed." 
 
 When wealth falls to any one late or all at once, he 
 will most likely become a miser, to avoid change, — that 
 is to say, will not spend much more money than he had 
 done before ; or else will become a prodigal, and contract 
 so many debts as to become poor again.'* 
 
 Oh ! but what you say looks very much like a soph- 
 ism, my dear philosopher." 
 
 " I do not think so. Will you become a miser 1 " 
 " JSTo, pardieu I I was one already, having nothing. Let 
 us change." 
 
 " Then be prodigal." 
 
 " Still less, mordioux ! Debts terrify me. Creditors 
 appear to me, by anticipation, those devils who turn the 
 damned upon the gridirons ; and as patience is not my 
 dominant virtue, I am always tempted to thrash those 
 devils." 
 
 " You are the wisest man I know, and stand in no need 
 of counsel from any one. Great fools must they be who 
 think they have anything to teach you. But are we not 
 at the Rue St. HonoreT' 
 Yes, dear Athos." 
 
 Look yonder, on the left, that small, long white house 
 is the hotel at which I lodge. You may observe that it 
 has but two stories. I occupy the first ; the other is let 
 to an officer, whose duties oblige him to be absent eight 
 or nine months in the year, — so I am in that house as at 
 my own home, without the expense." 
 
 Oh, how well you manage, Athos ! What order and 
 what liberality ! They are what I wish to unite. But 
 of what use to try % That comes from birth, and cannot 
 be acquired.'' 
 
 Flatterer ! Well, adieu, dear friend ! By the way. 
 
THE FEENCH GROCER. 
 
 377 
 
 remember me to Master Plancbet ; he is still a lad of 
 spirit, is he not 1 " 
 
 " And of heart too, Athos. Adieu." 
 
 And they separated. During all this conversation 
 D'Artagnan had not for a moment lost sight of a certain 
 pack-horse, in whose panniers, under some hay, were 
 spread the money-bags with the portmanteau. Nine 
 o'clock was striking at St. Merri ; Planchet's lads w^ere 
 shutting up his shop. D'Artagnan stopped the postilion 
 who rode the pack-horse, at the corner of the Eue des 
 Lombards, under a pent-house, and calling one of Plan- 
 chet's boys, desired him not only to take care of the 
 two horses, but to watch the postilion ; after which he 
 entered the shop of the grocer, who had just finished sup- 
 per, and who in his little private room was, with some 
 anxiety, consulting the calendar, from which every even- 
 ing he scratched out the day that was past. At the 
 moment when Plancbet, according to his daily custom, 
 with the back of his pen, uttering a sigh, was erasing 
 another day, D'Artagnan kicked with his feet at the door, 
 and the blow made his steel spur jingle. 
 Oh, good Lord ! " cried Plancbet. 
 
 The worthy grocer could say no more ; he perceived his 
 partner. D'Artagnan entered with a bent back and a dull 
 eye ; the Gascon had an idea with regard to Plancbet. 
 
 Good God ! " thought the grocer, looking earnestly at 
 the traveller, "he looks very sad." The musketeer sat 
 down. 
 
 " My dear M. d'Artagnan ! " said Plancbet, with a hor- 
 rible palpitation of the heart. Here you are ! and your 
 health r' 
 
 Tolerably good, Plancbet, tolerably good ! " said 
 D'Artagnan, with a profound sigh. 
 
 You have not been wounded, I hope ? " 
 
378 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE, 
 
 " Piigh ! " 
 
 " Ah ! I see," continued Planchet, more and more 
 alarmed, the expedition has been a trying one]" 
 
 " Yes," said D'Artagnan. A shudder ran through the 
 whole frame of Planchet. I should like to have some- 
 thing to drink," said the musketeer, raising his head 
 piteously. 
 
 Planchet ran to the cupboard, and poured D'Artagnan 
 out some wine in a large glass. D'Artagnan examined 
 tlie bottle. 
 
 " What wine is that 1 " asked he. 
 
 ''Alas! that which you prefer. Monsieur,'^ said Plan- 
 chet ; " that good old Anjou wine, which was one day 
 nearly costing us all so dear." 
 
 '' Ah ! " replied D'Artagnan, with a melancholy smile, 
 ''ah, my poor Planchet ! ought I still to drink good 
 wineT' 
 
 " Come, my dear master," said Planchet, making a 
 superhuman effort, while all his contracted muscles, his 
 paleness, and his trembling betrayed the most acute 
 anguish. Come ! I have been a soldier, and conse- 
 quently have some courage ; do not keep me in suspense, 
 dear M. d'Artagnan : our money is lost, is it not 1 " 
 
 Before answ^ering, D'Artagnan made a pause which 
 seemed an age to the poor grocer. Meanwhile he did 
 nothing but turn about upon his chair. 
 
 " And if that were the case," said he slowly, moving 
 his head up and dowm, " what would you say, my dear 
 friend r' 
 
 Planchet, from being pale, turned yellow. It might 
 have been thought he was going to swallow his tongue, 
 so full became his throat, so red were his eyes. 
 
 " Twenty thousand livres ! " murmured he. Twenty 
 thousand livres, though ! " 
 
THE FRENCH GROCEE. 
 
 379 
 
 D'Artagnan, with his neck elongated, his legs stretched 
 out, and his hands hanging listlessly, looked like a statue 
 of discouragement. Planch et heaved 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 it not 1 The principal thing is, Mon- 
 sieur, that you have saved your life.'* 
 
 "Doubtless, doubtless, life is something; but I am 
 ruined ! " 
 
 Cordieu I Monsieur," said Planchet, "if it is so, we 
 must not despair for that. You shall become a grocer 
 with me ; I will make you my partner, we will share the 
 profits ; and if there should be no more profits, well 
 then we will share the almonds, raisins, and prunes, 
 and we will nibble together the last quarter of Dutch 
 cheese." 
 
 D'Artagnan could hold out no lon^^er. Mordiouxl" 
 cried he, witii great emotion, " thou art a brave fellow, 
 by my honor, Planchet ! You have not been playing 
 comedy, have youl You have not seen the pack-horse 
 with the money-bags under the shed yonder 1 " 
 
 " What horse 1 What money-bags 1 " said Planchet, 
 whose trembling heart began to suggest that D'Artagnan 
 was mad. 
 
 "Why! the English money-bags, mordioux ! said 
 D'Artagnan, all radiant, quite transfigured. 
 
 "Ah, good God ! " articulated Planchet, drawing back 
 before the dazzling fire of his eyes. 
 
 "Imbecile!" cried D'Artagnan, "you think me mad! 
 Mordioux 1 on the contrary, never was my head more 
 clear, or my heart more joyous. To the money-bags, 
 Planchet, to the money-bags ! " 
 
 "My God ! to what money-bags'?" 
 
 D'Artagnan pushed Planchet towards the window. 
 
380 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Under the pent-housG; yonder, don't you see a 
 horse ? " 
 ''Yes.'' 
 
 Don't you see how his back is laden 1 '* 
 " Yes, yes ! " 
 
 " Don't you see your lad chatting 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 ! " said D'Artagnan. 
 Bring the horse ! " screamed Planchet. 
 
 " Now give ten livres to the postilion," said D'Artagnan, 
 in the tone he would have employed in commanding a 
 manoeuvre; "tw^o lads to bring up the first two sacks, 
 two to bring up the last two, — and move, mordioux ! be 
 alive ! " 
 
 Planchet precipitated himself down the stairs as if the 
 devil were at his heels. The moment after, the lads 
 ascended the staircase, bending beneath their burden. 
 D'Artagnan sent them off to their garrets, carefully closed 
 the door, and addressing Planchet, who, in his turn, looked 
 a little wild, — 
 
 " Now we are by ourselves," said he ; and he spread 
 upon the floor a large cover, and emptied the first sack 
 into it. Planchet did the same with the second ; then 
 D'Artagnan, all in a tremble, let out the precious bowels 
 of the third with a knife. When Planchet heard the 
 intoxicating sound of the silver and gold ; when he saw 
 bubbling out of the bags the shining crowns, which glit- 
 tered like fish from the sweep-net ; when he felt himself 
 plunging his hands up to the elbow in that still rising 
 tide of yellow and silver pieces, — a giddiness seized him, 
 
THE FRENCH GROCFR. 
 
 881 
 
 and he sank, like a man who is thunderstruck, heavily 
 down upon the enormous heap, which his weight caused 
 to roll away in all directions. Planchet, suffocated w^ith joy, 
 had lost his senses. D'Artagnan threw a glass of white 
 wine in his face, which immediately recalled him to life. 
 
 Ah, good heavens ! good heavens ! good heavens ! " 
 said Planchet, w^iping his mustache and beard. 
 
 At that time, as they do now, grocers wore the cavalier 
 mustache and the lansquenet beard ; but silver baths, 
 already become rare in those days, have become almost 
 imknown now. 
 
 ^' Mordioux 1 " said D'Artagnan, " there are a hundred 
 thousand livres for you, partner. Draw your share, if 
 you please ; and I will draw mine." 
 
 Oh, the lovely sum ! M. d'Artagnan, the lovely 
 sum ! " 
 
 confess that half an hour ago I regretted that I 
 had to give you so much ; but I now no longer regret it. 
 Thou art a brave grocer, Planchet. There, let us close 
 our accounts ; for, as they say, short reckonings make 
 long friends.'* 
 
 ^' Oh ! rather, in the first place, tell me the whole 
 history," said Planchet; "that must be better than the 
 money." 
 
 M}^ faith 1 " said D'Artagnan, stroking his mustache, 
 I can't say no ; and if ever the historian turns to me 
 for information, he will be able to say he has not dipped 
 his bucket into a dry spring. Listen, then, Planchet, I 
 will tell you all about it." 
 
 "And I will build piles of crowns/' said Planchet. 
 " Begin, my dear master." 
 
 "Well, this is it," said DArtagnan, drawing breath. 
 
 "And that is it," said Planchet, picking up his first 
 handful of crowns. 
 
382 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 mazarin's gaming-party, 
 
 Tn a large chamber of the Palais-Rojal, covered with a 
 dark-colored velvet, which threw into strong relief the 
 gilded frames of a great number of magnificent pictures, 
 on the evening of the arrival of the two Frenchmen, the 
 whole court was assembled before the alcove of M. le Car- 
 dinal de Mazarin, who was giving a party, for the purposes 
 of play, to the king and queen. A small screen separated 
 three prepared tables. At one of these tables the king 
 and the two queens were seated. Louis XIV., j^laced op- 
 posite to the young queen, his wife, smiled upon her w^ith 
 an expression of real happiness. Anne of Austria held 
 the cards against the cardinal ; and her daughter-in-law 
 assisted her in her game, when she was not engaged in 
 smiling at her husband. As for the cardinal, who, very 
 weary, reclined his attenuated form upon his bed, his 
 cards were held by the Comtesse de Soissons, and he 
 watched them with an incessant look of eagerness and 
 cupidity. 
 
 The cardinal had been painted by Bernouin ; but the 
 rouge, which glowed only on his cheeks, threw into 
 stronger contrast the sickly pallor of the rest of his coun- 
 tenance and the shining yellow of his brow. His eyes alone 
 acquired a more lively expression from this auxiliary ; 
 and upon those sick man's eyes were turned, from time 
 to time, the uneasy looks of the king, the queens, and 
 the courtiers. The fact is, that the two eyes of Signor 
 
MAZAEIN'S GAMING-PARTY. 
 
 383 
 
 Mazarin were the stars more or less brilliant in which the 
 France of the seventeenth centnry read its destiny every 
 evening and every morning, Monseignenr neither won 
 nor lost ; he was, therefore, neither gay nor sad. It was 
 a stagnation in which, full of pity for him, Anne of Aus- 
 tria would not have willingly left him ; but in order to 
 attract the attention of the sick man by some brilliant 
 stroke, she must have either won or lost. To win would 
 have been dangerous, because Mazarin would have changed 
 his indifference for an ugly grimace ; to lose would like- 
 wise have been dangerous, because she must have cheated, 
 and the infanta, who watched her game, would doubtless 
 have exclaimed against her partiality for Mazarin. Prof- 
 iting by this calm, the courtiers were chatting. When 
 not in a bad humor, M. de Mazarin was a very debonair 
 prince ; and he, who prevented nobody from singing, pro- 
 vided they paid, was not tyrant enough to prevent people 
 from talking, provided they made up their minds to lose. 
 They were chatting, then. At the first table the king's 
 younger brother, Philip, Due d'Anjou, was admiring his 
 handsome face in the glass of a box. His favorite, the 
 Chevalier de Lorraine, leaning over the fauteuil of the 
 prince, was listening, with secret envy, to the Comte de 
 Guiche, another of Philip's favorites, who was relating in 
 choice terms the various vicissitudes of fortune of the 
 royal adventurer Charles II. He told, as so many fabu- 
 lous events, all the history of his peregrinations in Scot- 
 land, and his terrors when the enemy's party was so 
 closely on his track ; of nights passed in trees, and days 
 passed in hunger and combats. By degrees, the fate of 
 the unfortunate king interested his auditors so greatly 
 that the play languished even at the royal table ; and the 
 young king, with a pensive look and downcast eye, fol- 
 lowed, without appearing to give any attention to it, 
 
384 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 the smallest details of this Odyssey, very picturesquely 
 related by the Comte de Guiche. 
 
 The Comtesse de Soissons interrupted the narrator. 
 •'Confess, County you are inventing." 
 
 Madame, I am repeating like a parrot all the stories 
 related to me by different Englishmen. I am compelled 
 to my shame to say that I am as textual as 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 in a grave tone, still partaking some- 
 what of tlie timid child, ^'Monsieur the Cardinal will 
 tell you that in my minority the affairs of France were 
 in jeopardy, and that if I had been older, and obliged 
 to take sword in hand, it would sometimes have been to 
 gain the evening meal." 
 
 Thanks to God," said the cardinal, who spoke for the 
 first time, ^^your Majesty exaggerates, and your supper 
 has always been ready, w^ith that of your servants." 
 
 The king colored. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Philip, inconsiderately, from his place, 
 and without ceasing to admire himself, I recollect once, 
 at Milan, the supper w\as laid for nobody, and that the 
 king ate two thirds of a slice of bread, and left to me 
 the other third." 
 
 The whole assembly, seeing Mazarin smile, began to 
 laugh. Courtiers flatter kings with the remembrance of 
 past distresses, as with the hopes of future good fortune. 
 
 " It is not to be denied that the crown of France has 
 always remained firm upon the heads of its kings," Anne 
 of Austria hastened to say, and that it has fallen 
 from that of the King of England ; and when, by 
 chance, that crow^n oscillated a little, — for there are 
 throne-quakes as well as earthquakes, — every time, I 
 
MAZARIN'S GAMING-PARTY. 
 
 385 
 
 say, that rebellion threatened it, a good victory restored 
 tranquillity." 
 
 With a few gems added to the crown/' said Mazarin. 
 
 The Comte de Guiche was silent ; the king composed 
 his countenance ; and Mazarin exchanged looks with Anne 
 of Austria, as if to thank her for her intervention. 
 
 " It is of no consequence," said Philip, smoothing his 
 hair. " My cousin Charles is not handsome, but he 
 very brave, and has fought like a reiter ; and if he con- 
 tinues to fight thus, no doubt he will finish by 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 willingly have given him some if I had been King 
 of France." 
 
 Louis XIV. blushed excessively. Mazarin affected to 
 be more attentive to his game than ever. 
 
 ^' By this time," resumed the Comte de Guiche, the 
 fortune of this unhappy prince is decided. If he has been 
 deceived by Monk, he is ruined. Imprisonment, perhaps 
 death, will finish what exile, battles, and privations have 
 begun." 
 
 Mazarin's brow became clouded. 
 
 "Is it certain," said Louis XIY., "that his Majesty 
 Charles 11. has quitted the Hague 1 " 
 
 "Quite certain, your Majesty," replied the young man; 
 "my father has received a letter containing all the de- 
 tails. It is even known that the king has landed at 
 Dover; some fishermen saw him entering the port. The 
 rest is still a myster3^" 
 
 " I should like to know the rest," said Philip, impetu- 
 ously. "You know, — you, my brother." 
 
 Louis XIV. colored again. That was the third time 
 VOL. I. — 25 
 
386 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 within au hour. Ask Monsieur the Cardinal/' replied 
 he, in a tone which made Mazarin, Anne of Austria, and 
 everybody else open their eyes. 
 
 ^yhich means, my son," said Anne of Austria, laugh- 
 ing, " that the king does not like affairs of State to be 
 talked of out of the council." 
 
 Philip received the reprimand w^th a good grace, and 
 bowed, first smiling at his brother, and then at his mother. 
 Bat Mazarin saw from the corner of his eye that a group 
 was about to be formed in an angle of the room ; that the 
 Due d'Anjou, with the Comte de Guiche and the Chev- 
 alier de Lorraine, prevented from talking aloud, might 
 say in a whisper what it was not convenient should 
 be said aloud. He was beginning then to dart at them 
 glances full of mistrust and uneasiness, inviting Anne of 
 Austria to throw perturbation amid the unlawful assem- 
 bly, when suddenly Bernouin, entering under the tapes- 
 try of the bedroom, whispered in the ear of his master, 
 " Monseigneur, an envoy from his Majesty the King of 
 England ! " 
 
 Mazarin could not help exhibiting a slight emotion, 
 which was perceived by the king. To avoid being indis- 
 creet, still less than not to appear useless, Louis XIV. 
 rose immediately, and approaching his Eminence, wished 
 him good-night. All the assembly had risen with a 
 great noise of rolling of chairs and tables being pushed 
 away. 
 
 Let everybody depart by degrees," said Mazarin in a 
 whisper to Louis XIV., and be so good as to excuse me 
 a few minutes. I am going to expedite an affair about 
 which I wish to converse with your Majesty this very 
 evening." 
 
 And the queens'?" asked Louis XIV. 
 
 And M. le Due d'Anjou," said his Eminence. 
 
MAZARIN'S GAMTXG-PARTY. 
 
 387 
 
 At the same time he turned round in his recess, the 
 curtains of which, in falling, concealed the bed. The car- 
 dinal, nevertheless, did not lose sight of the conspirators. 
 
 M. le Comte de Guiche," said he in a fretful voice, 
 while putting on, behind the curtain, his robe de chamhre, 
 ^ith the assistance of Bernouin. 
 
 '*I am here, ]Monseigneur," said the young man, as he 
 approached. 
 
 " Take mv cards ; you are lucky. Win a little money 
 for me of these gentlemen." 
 " Yes, Monseigneur.'*' 
 
 The young man sat down at the table from which the 
 king withdrew to talk with the two queens. A serious 
 game was begun between the Count and several rich 
 courtiers. In the mean time Philip was discussing ques- 
 tions of dress with the Chevalier de Lorraine, and they 
 had ceased to hear the rustling of the cardinal's silk robe 
 from behind the curtain. His Eminence had followed 
 Bernouin into the cabinet adjoining the bedroom. 
 
388 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 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 Eaphael placed over a sideboard covered w^ith 
 plate. His Eminence came in softly, lightly, and silently 
 as a shadow, and surprised the count, as he was accus- 
 tomed to do, pretending to divine, by the simple expres- 
 sion of the face of his interlocutor, what would be the 
 result of the conversation. But this tim.e Mazarin was 
 disappointed in his expectation he read nothing upon 
 the face of Athos, not even the respect he was accustomed 
 to meet with on all faces. Athos was dressed in black, 
 with a simple lacing of silver. He w'ore the Holy Ghost, 
 the Garter, and the Golden Fleece, — three orders of such 
 importance that a king alone, or else a player, could 
 wear them at once. 
 
 Mazarin rummaged a long time in his somewhat troubled 
 memory to recall the name he ought to give to this icy 
 figure, but he did not succeed. ^' I am told,'* said he, at 
 length, "that you have a message from England for me." 
 
 And he sat down, dismissing Bernouin and Brienne, 
 who in his capacity as secretary w^as getting his pen 
 ready. > 
 
 *'From his Majesty the King of England; yes, your 
 Eminence.'* 
 
 " You speak very good French, for an Englishman, 
 Monsieur," said Mazarin, graciously, looking through his 
 
AN AFFAIR OF STATE. 
 
 389 
 
 fingers at the Holy Ghost, Garter, and Golden Fleece, 
 but more particularly at the face of the messenger. 
 
 I am not an Englishman, but a Frenchman, Monsieur 
 the Cardinal," replied Athos. 
 
 " It is remarkable that the King of England should 
 choose a Frenchman for his ambassador ; it is an excellent 
 augury. Your name, Monsieur, if you please." 
 
 Comte de la Fere," replied Athos, bowing more 
 slightly than the ceremonial and pride of the all-powerful 
 minister required. 
 
 Mazarin bent his shoulders, as if to say, 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 announce to the King of France " — Mazarin 
 frowned — "to announce to the King of France," con- 
 tinued Athos, imperturbably, *'the happy restoration 
 of his Majesty Charles II. to the throne of his an- 
 cestors." 
 
 This shade did not escape his cunning Eminence. Ma- 
 zarin was too much accustomed to mankind, not to see in 
 the cold and almost haughty politeness of Athos an index 
 of hostility, which was not of the temperature of that hot- 
 house called a court. 
 
 "You have powers, I suppose 1" asked Mazarin, in a 
 short, querulous tone. 
 
 "Yes, Monseigneur ; " and the word ^' monseigneur " 
 came so painfully from the lips of Athos, that it might be 
 said it skinned them. 
 
 " In that case, show them." 
 
 Athos took a despatch from an embroidered velvet bag 
 which he carried under his doublet. The cardinal held 
 
390 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 out his hand for it. Your pardon, Monseigneur/* said 
 Athos. " My despatch is for the king." 
 
 " Since you are a Frenchman, Monsieur, you ought to 
 know what the position of a prime minister is at the court 
 of France." 
 
 "There was a time," repHed Athos, ''when I occupied 
 myself with the importance of prime ministers; but I 
 formed, long ago, a resolution to treat no longer with 
 any but the king." 
 
 " Then, Monsieur," said Mazarin, who began to be irri- 
 tated, '^you will see neither the minister nor the king." 
 
 Mazarin rose. Athos replaced his despatch in its bag, 
 bowed gravely, and took several steps towards the door. 
 This coolness exasperated Mazarin. " What strange 
 diplomatic proceedings are these ! " cried he. " Are we 
 again in the times in which Cromw^ell sent us bullies in 
 the guise of charges d! affaires ? You want nothing, Mon- 
 sieur, but the steel cap on your head, and a Bible at your 
 girdle." 
 
 "Monsieur," said Athos, dryly, ''I have never had, as 
 you have, the advantage of treating with M. Cromwell ; 
 and I have only seen his charges affaires sword in hand : 
 I am therefore ignorant of how he treated with prime 
 ministers. As for the King of England, Charles II., I 
 know that when he writes to his Majesty King Louis 
 XIV., he does not write to his Eminence the Cardinal 
 Mazarin. I see no diplomacy in that distinction." 
 
 • "Ah ! " cried Mazarin, raising his attenuated hand and 
 strikino' his head, " I remember now ! " Athos looked at 
 him in astonishment. "Yes, that is it," said the car- 
 dinal, continuing to look at his interlocutor ; " yes, that 
 is certainly it. I know you now. Monsieur. Ah ! diavolo I 
 I am no longer astonished." 
 
 " lii fact, / was astonished that with the excellent 
 
• 
 
 AN AFFAIR OF STATE. 391 
 
 memory your Eminence has," replied Athos, smiling, 
 "you did not recognize me before." 
 
 "Always refractory and grumbling, Monsieur — Mon- 
 sieur — What do they call you 1 Stop ! — a name of a 
 river — Potamos ; no — the name of an island — Naxos ; 
 no, pe?^ Giove I — the name of a mountain — Athos ! now I 
 have it. Delighted to see you again, and to be no longer 
 at Rueil, where you and your damned companions made 
 me pay ransom. Fronde ! still Fronde ! accursed Fronde ! 
 Oh, what a source of evil ! Why, Monsieur, have your 
 antipathies survived minel If any one had cause to 
 complain, I think it could not be you, who got out of the 
 affair not only in a sound skin, but with the cordon of 
 the Holy Ghost round your neck." 
 
 " Monsieur the Cardinal," replied Athos, " permit me to 
 dispense with considerations of that kind. I have a mis- 
 sion to fulfil. Will you assist me in fulfilling that mission " 
 
 "I am astonished," said Mazarin, quite delighted at 
 havhig regained the remembrance, and bristling with 
 malicious points, — " I am astonished. Monsieur — Athos 
 — that a Frondeur like you should have accepted a mis- 
 sion to Mazarin, as used to be said in the good old 
 times — " and Mazarin began to laugh, in spite of a , 
 painful cough, which cut short his sentences, converting 
 them into sobs. 
 
 " I have only accepted the mission to the King of 
 France, Monsieur the Cardinal," retorted the count, 
 though with less asperity, for he thought he had suffi- 
 ciently the advantage to show himself moderate. 
 
 " And yet. Monsieur the Frondeur," said Mazarin, 
 gayly, " the affair with which you charge yourself must, 
 from the king — " 
 
 "With which I am charged, Monseigneur. I do not 
 run after affairs." 
 
392 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 **Be it so. I sav that this negotiation must pass 
 through my hands. Let us lose no precious time, then. 
 Tell me the conditions." 
 
 I have had the honor of assuring your Eminence that 
 the letter alone of his Majesty King Charles 11. contains 
 the revelation of his wishes." 
 
 " Pooh ! you are ridiculous with your obstinacy, M. 
 Athos. It is plain 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, in 
 not having shown some respect for a very old and suffer- 
 ing man, who has labored much daring his life, and kept 
 the field bravely for his ideas, as you have for yours. — 
 You wdll not communicate your letter to me ? You will 
 say nothing to me 1 Wonderfully well ! Come with me 
 into my chamber ; you shall speak to the king — and be- 
 fore the king. Now, then, one last word : who gave you 
 tho Fleece? I remember you passed for having the 
 Garter ; but as to the Fleece, I did not know — " 
 
 " Eecently, Monseigneur, Spain, on the occasion of the 
 marriage of his Majesty Louis XIV., sent King Charles II. 
 a brevet of the Fleece in blank ; Charles II. immediately 
 transmitted it to me, filling up the blank with my name." 
 
 Mazarin arose, and leaning on tlie arm of Bernouin, 
 returned to his private recess at the moment the name of 
 Monsieur the Prince was being announced. The Prince 
 de Cond6, the first prince of the blood, the conqueror of 
 Eocroy, Lens, and Nordlingen, was, in fact, entering the 
 apartments of Monseigneur de Mazarin, followed by his 
 gentlemen, and had already saluted the king, when the 
 prime minister raised his curtain. Athos had time to 
 see Raoul press the hand of the Comte de Guiche, and 
 to return him a smile for his respectful bow. He had 
 time, likewise, to see the radiant countenance of the 
 
AN AFFAIR OF STATE. 
 
 393 
 
 cardinal, when he perceived before him, upon the table, 
 an enormous heap of gold, which the Comte de Guiche 
 had won in a run of luck, after his Eminence had con- 
 fided his cards to him. So, forgetting ambassador, em- 
 bassy, and prince, his first thought was of the gold. 
 " What ! " cried the old man, all that — won 1 " 
 
 "Some fifty thousand crowns; yes, Monseigneur," re- 
 plied the Comte de Guiche, rising. ^'Must I give up my 
 place to your Eminence, or shall I continue % " 
 
 Give uj) ! give up ! you are mad. You would lose all 
 you have won. Peste/^^ 
 
 " Monseigneur ! " said the Prince de Conde, bowing. 
 
 "Good-evening, Monsieur the Prince," said the min- 
 ister, in a careless tone ; " it is very kind of you to visit 
 an old sick friend." 
 
 " A friend ! " murmured the Comte de la Fere, at wit- 
 nessing with stupor this monstrous collocation of words, 
 — " friend, when the parties are Conde and Mazarin ! " 
 
 Mazarin seemed to divine the thought of the Frondeur, 
 for he smiled upon him with triumph ; and immediately, 
 — " Sire," said he to the king, "I have the honor of 
 presenting to your Majesty, M. le Comte de la Fere, 
 ambassador from his Britannic Majesty. An affair of 
 State, Messieurs," added he, waving his hand to all who 
 filled the chamber, and who, the Prince de Conde at 
 their head, all disappeared at the simple gesture. Raoul, 
 after a last look cast at the count, followed M. de Conde. 
 Philip of Anjou and the queen appeared to be consulting 
 about departing. 
 
 "A family affair," said Mazarin, suddenly, detaining 
 them in their seats. " This gentleman is bearer of a 
 letter, in which King Charles II., completely restored to 
 his throne, demands an alliance between Monsieur, the 
 brother of the king, and Mademoiselle Henrietta, grand- 
 
394 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 daughter of Henry IV. Will you pass your credentials 
 to the king, Monsieur the Count 
 
 Athos remained for a minute stupefied. How could 
 the minister possibly know the contents of the letter, 
 which had never been out of his keeping for a single 
 instant 1 Nevertheless, always master of himself, he held 
 out the despatch to the young king, Louis XIV., who took 
 it with a blush. A solemn silence reigned in the chamber 
 of the cardinal. It was only troubled by the dull sound 
 of the gold which Mazarin, with his yellow, dry hand, 
 piled up in a box, while the king was reading. 
 
THE RECITAL. 
 
 895 
 
 CHAPTEE XLI. 
 
 THE RECITAL. 
 
 The malice of the cardinal did not leave much for the 
 ambassador to say ; nevertheless, the word restored " had 
 struck the king, who, addressing the count, upon whom 
 his eyes had been fixed since that person's entrance, — 
 *^ Monsieur," said he, ^' wall you have the kindness to 
 give us some details of English affairs '? You come from 
 that country, you are a Frenchman, and the orders which 
 I see glitter upon your person announce you to be a man 
 of merit as well as a man of quality." 
 
 Monsieur/' said the cardinal, turning towards the 
 queen-mother, "is an ancient servant of your Majesty's, 
 M. le Comte de la Fere." 
 
 Anne of Austria was as oblivious as a queen whose life 
 had been mingled with fine and stormy days. She looked 
 at Mazarin, whose malign smile promised her something 
 annoying ; then, by another look, she solicited from 
 Athos an explanation. 
 
 " Monsieur," continued the cardinal, " was a Treville 
 musketeer, in the service of the late king. Monsieur is 
 w^ell acquainted with England, whither he has made sev- 
 eral voyages at various periods ; he is a subject of the 
 highest merit." 
 
 These words contained allusion to all the remembran- 
 ces which Anne of Austria dreaded to revive. Eng- 
 land," — that was her hatred of Richelieu and her love 
 
396 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 of Buckingham ] a Treville musketeer," — that was the 
 whole Odyssey of the triumphs which had made the 
 heart of the young woman throb, and of the dangers 
 which had been so near overturning the throne of the 
 young queen. These ^ words had much power; for they 
 rendered mute and attentive all the royal personages, 
 who, with widely diverse sentiments, at once tried to re- 
 construct the mysterious years, which the young among 
 them had not seen, and which the old had believed to be 
 forever effaced. 
 
 Speak, Monsieur/' said Louis XIV., the first to es- 
 cape from troubles, suspicions, and remembrances. 
 
 ^' Yes, speak," added Mazarin, to whom the little piece 
 of malice inflicted upon Anne of Austria had restored 
 energy and gayety. 
 
 Sire," said the count, " a sort of miracle has changed 
 the whole destiny of Charles IL What men till that time 
 had been unable to do, God resolved to accomplish." 
 Mazarin coughed, while tossing about in his bed. 
 
 King Charles IL," continued Athos, ^'left the Hague 
 neither as a fugitive nor as a conqueror, but like an abso- 
 lute king, who, after a distant voyage from his kingdom, 
 returns amid universal benedictions." 
 
 " A great miracle, indeed," said Mazarin ; " for if the 
 new^s was true, King Charles IL, who has just returned 
 amid benedictions, went away amid musket-shots." 
 
 The king remained impassive. Philip, younger and 
 more frivolous, could not repress a smile, which flattered 
 Mazarin as an applause of his pleasantry. 
 
 It is plain," said the king, " there is a miracle ; but 
 God, who does so much for kings, Monsieur the Count, 
 nevertheless employs the hand of man to bring about 
 the triumph of His designs. To what men does Charles 
 II. principally owe his re-establishment % " 
 
THE RECITAL. 
 
 397 
 
 "Why," interrupted Mazarin, without any regard for 
 the self-love of the king, ^' does not your Majesty know 
 that It is to M. MonkV' 
 
 *^ I ought to know it," replied Louis XIV., resolutely ; 
 
 and yet I ask Monsieur the ambassador the causes of 
 the change in this M. Monk." 
 
 "And your Majesty touches precisely the question/' 
 replied Athos ; " for without the miracle I have had the 
 honor to speak of, M. Monk would probably have re- 
 mained an implacable enemy to Charles II. God willed 
 that a strange, bold, and ingenious idea should enter into 
 the mind of a certain man, while a devoted and coura- 
 geous idea took possession of the mind of another man. 
 The combination of these two ideas brought about such a 
 change in the position of M. Monk that from an inveter- 
 ate enemy he became a friend to the deposed king." 
 
 " These are exactly the details I asked for," said the 
 king. "Who and what are the two men of whom you 
 speak 1 " 
 
 *' Two Frenchmen, Sire." 
 
 " Indeed ! I am glad of that." 
 
 " And the two ideas," said Mazarin, — "I am more 
 curious about ideas than about men, for my part." 
 " Yes," murmured the king. 
 
 " The second idea — the devoted, courageous idea — the 
 less important. Sire — was to go and dig up a million 
 in gold, buried by King Charles T. at ISTewcastle, and to 
 purchase with that gold the adherence of Monk." 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! " said Mazarin, reanimated by the word 
 " million." " But N'ewcastle was at the time occupied 
 by Monk." 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur the Cardinal, and that is why I ven- 
 ture to call the idea courageous as well as devoted. The 
 plan was, — if Monk should refuse the offers of the nego- 
 
398 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 tiator, — to reinstate King Charles IL in possession of 
 this million, which was to be torn, as it were, from the 
 loyalty of General Monk, if not from his loyalism. This 
 w^as effected, in spite of many difficulties : the general 
 proved to be loyal, and allowed the money to be taken 
 away." 
 
 It seems to me," said the timid, thoughtful king, 
 " that Charles IL could not have known of this million 
 while he was in Paris.'' 
 
 "It seems to me," rejoined the cardinal, maliciously, 
 that his Majesty the King of Great Britain knew per- 
 fectly well of this million, but that he preferred having 
 two millions to having one." 
 
 "Sire," said Athos, firmly, "the King of England 
 while in France was so poor that he had not even money 
 to take the post, so destitute of hope that he fre- 
 quently thought of dying. He was so entirely ignorant 
 of the existence of the million at JN'ewcastle, that but for 
 a gentleman, — one of your Majesty's subjects, the 
 moral depositary of the million, and who revealed the 
 secret to King Charles II., — that prince would still be 
 ve":Gtatino: in the most cruel oblivion." 
 
 " Let us pass on to the strange, bold, and ingenious 
 idea," interrupted Mazarin, whose sagacity foresaw a 
 check. " What was that idea 1 " 
 
 " This : M. Monk being the only obstacle to the re- 
 establishment of the fallen king, a Frenchman imagined 
 the idea of suppressing this obstacle." 
 
 Oh ! oh ! but he is a scoundrel, that Frenchman," 
 said Mazarin ; " and the idea is not so ingenious as to 
 prevent its author being tied up by the neck at the Place 
 de Greve, by decree of the Parliament." 
 
 " Your Eminence is mistaken,'' replied Athos, dryly. 
 " I did not say that the Frenchman in question had re- 
 
THE RECITAL. 
 
 899 
 
 solved to assassinate M. Monk, but only to suppress him. 
 The words of the French language have a value which 
 the gentlemen of France know perfectly. Besides, this is 
 an affair of war ; and when men serve kings against their 
 enemies they are not to be condemned by a parliament, — 
 they have God. This French gentleman, then, formed 
 the idea of gaining possession of the person of Monk, and 
 he executed his plan." 
 
 The king became animated at the recital of great ac- 
 tions. The king's younger brother struck the table with 
 his hand, exclaiming, " Ah, that is fine ! " 
 
 He carried off Monk ^ " said the king. " Why, Monk 
 was in his camp." 
 
 And the gentleman was alone, Sire." 
 
 *^ That is marvellous ! " said Philip. 
 
 " Marvellous indeed ! " cried the king. 
 
 "Good ! There are two little lions unchained," mur- 
 mured the cardinal. And with an air of spite, which 
 he did not dissemble, said aloud, " I am unacquainted 
 with these details ; will you guarantee the authenticity 
 of them. Monsieur 
 
 ''AH the more easily. Monsieur the Cardinal, from 
 having seen the events." 
 
 " You have 1 " 
 
 " Yes, Monseigneur." 
 
 The king had involuntarily drawn close to the count ; 
 the Due d'Anjou had turned sharply round, and pressed 
 Athos on the other side. 
 
 ''Next, Monsieur, next!" cried both at the same 
 time. 
 
 " Sire, M. Monk, being taken by the Frenchman, was 
 brought to King Charles II. at the Hague. The king 
 restored Monk his liberty ; and the grateful general, in 
 return, gave Charles II. the throne of Great Britain, 
 
400 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 for which so many valiant men have contended without 
 result/' 
 
 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 1 " 
 
 " It was your humble servant," said Athos, simply. 
 
 A murmur of admiration made the heart of Athos 
 swell with pleasure. He had reason to be proud, at least. 
 Mazarin himself had raised his arms towards heaven. 
 
 "Monsieur," said the king, "I will seek, I will find, 
 means to reward you." Athos made a movement. " Oh, 
 not for your probity, — to be paid for that would humili- 
 ate you ; but I owe you a reward for having participated 
 in the restoration of my brother. King Charles 11." 
 
 "Certainly," said Mazarin. 
 
 " It is the triumph of a good cause w^hich fills the whole 
 house of France with joy," said Anne of Austria. 
 
 " I continue," said Louis XIV. : " Is it also true that 
 a single man penetrated to Monk, in his camp, and 
 carried him off"? " 
 
 " That man had ten auxiliaries, taken from an inferior 
 rank." 
 
 "is^thingbut thati" 
 
 " Nothing more." 
 
 " And you call him '] " 
 
 " Monsieur d'Artagnan, formerly lieutenant of the 
 Musketeers of your Majesty." 
 
 Anne of Austria colored ; Mazarin became yellow with 
 shame ; Louis XIV. was deeply thoughtful, and a drop of 
 
THE EECITAL. 
 
 401 
 
 sweat fell from his pale brow. " What men ! " mur- 
 mured he; and involuntarily he darted a glance at the 
 minister, which would have terrified him, if Mazarin at the 
 moment had not concealed his head under his pillow. 
 
 ^'Monsieur/' said the young Due d'Anjou, placing his 
 hand, delicate and white 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 his 
 health before a hundred of the best gentlemen of 
 France ; and on finishing these words, the young- 
 man, perceiving that his enthusiasm had deranged one 
 of his ruffles, set to w^ork to put it to rights with the 
 greatest care imaginabla 
 
 " Let us resume business, Sire," interrupted Mazarin, 
 who never was enthusiastic and who wore no ruffles. 
 
 *'Yes, Monsieur," rephed Louis XIV. "Enter upon 
 your communication, Monsieur the Count," added he, 
 turning towards Athos. 
 
 Athos immediately began, and offered in due form the 
 hand of the Princess Henrietta Stuart to the young 
 prince, the king's brother. The conference lasted an 
 hour ; after which the doors of the chamber were thrown 
 open to the courtiers, who resumed their places as if 
 nothing had been kept from them in the occupations 
 of that evening. Athos then found himself again w^th 
 Eaoul, and the father and son were able to clasp hands 
 once more. 
 
 VOL. I. — 26 
 
402 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 IN WHICH MAZARIN BECOMES PRODIGAL. 
 
 While Mazarin was endeavoring to recover from the 
 serious alarm he had just experienced, Athos and Raoul 
 exchanged a few words in a corner of the chamber. 
 
 Well, here you are in Paris, then, Raoul said the 
 count. 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur, since the return of Monsieur the 
 Prince." 
 
 I cannot converse freely with you here, because we 
 are observed ; but I shall return home presently, and 
 shall expect you as soon as your duty permits." 
 
 Raoul bowed ; and at that moment Monsieur the 
 Prince came up to them. The prince had that clear 
 and keen look which distinguishes birds of prey of the 
 noble species ; his physiognomy itself presented several 
 distinct traits of this resemblance. Of the Prince de 
 Conde it is well known that his aquiline nose sprang, 
 sharp and incisive, from a brow slightly retreating and 
 not very high ; and this, according to the railers of the 
 court, — a pitiless race, even for genius, — constituted 
 rather an eagle's beak than a human nose, for the heir 
 of the illustrious princes of the house of Conde. This 
 penetrating look, this imperious expression of the whole 
 countenance, generally disturbed those to whom the 
 prince spoke, more than either the majesty or the noble 
 appearance of the conqueror of Rocroy could have done. 
 Besides this, the fire mounted so suddenly to his pro- 
 
MAZAKIN BECOxMES PRODIGAL. 
 
 403 
 
 jecting eyes, that with the prince every sort of animation 
 resembled anger. Now, on account of his rank every- 
 body at the court respected Monsieur the Prince ; and 
 many even, seeing only the man, carried their respect 
 to the height of fear. 
 
 Louis de Conde, then, advanced towards the Comte de 
 la Fere and Eaoul, with the marked intention of being 
 saluted by the one and of speaking to the other. No man 
 bowed with more reserved grace than the Comte de la 
 Fere. He disdained to put into a salutation all the 
 shades which a courtier ordinarily borrows from the 
 same color, — the desire to please. Athos knew his own 
 personal value, and bowed to the prince as a man, — cor- 
 recting by something sympathetic and indefinable that 
 which might have appeared offensive to the pride of the 
 highest rank in the inflexibility of his attitude. The prince 
 was about to speak to Eaoul. Athos prevented him. 
 
 " If M. le Yicomte de Bragelonne," said he, " were not 
 one of the humble servants of your royal Highness, I would 
 beg him to pronounce my name before you, my Prince." 
 
 I have the honor to address M. le Comte de la Fere," 
 said Conde, instantly. 
 
 "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 much that is good 
 that I have frequently desu'ed to number him among my 
 friends." 
 
 " An honor of which I should be unworthy," replied 
 Athos, but for the respect and admiration I entertain 
 for your Highness." 
 
 " M. de Bragelonne," said the prince, is a good officer, 
 who it is plain has been to a good school. Ah, Monsieur 
 the Count, in your time generals had soldiers ! " 
 
404 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " That is trne, Monseigneur ; but nowadays soldiers 
 have generals." 
 
 This compliment, which savored so little of flattery, 
 gave a thrill of joy to a man whom already Europe con- 
 sidered a hero, and who might be thought to be satiated 
 with praise. 
 
 I very much regret," continued the prince, " that you 
 should have retired from the service. Monsieur the Count ; 
 for it is more than probable that the king will soon have 
 a war with Holland or England, and opportunities for 
 distinguishing himself would not be wanting to a man 
 who, like you, knows Great Britain as well as Erance." 
 
 I believe I may say, Monseigneur, that T have acted 
 wisely in retiring from the service," said Athos, smiling. 
 " France and Great Britain will henceforward live like 
 two sisters, if I can trust my presentiments." 
 " Your presentiments 1 " 
 
 Stop, Monseigneur ! listen to what is said yonder, at 
 the table of Monsieur the Cardinal." 
 
 Where they are playing 1 " 
 " Yes, Monseigneur." 
 
 The cardinal had just raised himself upon one elbow, 
 and made a sign to the king's brother, who went to him, 
 " Monseigneur," said the cardinal, " pick up, if you please, 
 all those gold crowns ; " and he pointed to the enormous 
 pile of yellow and glittering pieces which the Comte de 
 Guiche had gradually accumulated by a surprising run of 
 luck at play. 
 
 " For me % " cried the Due 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 the cardinal, getting weaker and weaker, as if this 
 
MAZARIN BECOMES PRODIGAL. 
 
 405 
 
 effort of giving money had exhausted all his physical and 
 moral faculties. 
 
 " Oh, .good heavens ! " exclaimed Philip, wild with joy ; 
 " what a fortunate day ! " and he himself, making a rake 
 of his fingers, drew a part of the sum into his pockets, 
 which he filled, and still full a third remained on the 
 table. 
 
 Chevalier," said Philip to his favorite, the Chevalier 
 de Lorraine, ''come hither, Chevalier." The favorite 
 quickly obeyed. ''Pocket the rest," said the young 
 prince. 
 
 This singular scene was regarded by those present as 
 only an exhibition of family feeling. The cardinal as- 
 sumed the airs of a father with the sons of France, and 
 the two young princes had grown up under his wing. 
 No one then imputed this liberality on the part of the 
 first minister to pride, or even impertinence, as we 
 should nowadays. The courtiers contented themselves 
 with envying the prince. The king turned away his 
 head. 
 
 "I never had so much money before," said the young 
 prince, joyously, as he crossed the chamber with Jiis 
 favorite, to go to his carriage. '' Xo, never ! How heavy 
 they are, — a hundred and iifty thousand livres ! " 
 
 *' But why has Monsieur the Cardinal given all that 
 money at once 1 " asked Monsieur the Prince of the 
 Comte de la Fere. " He must be very ill, the dear 
 cardinal ! " 
 
 "Yes, Monseigneur, very ill, without doubt; and be- 
 sides, he looks very ill, as your Highness may perceive." 
 
 "Assuredly! but he will die of it. A hundred and 
 fifty thousand livres ! Oh, it is incredible ! But why, 
 Count ? Tell me a reason for it." 
 
 "Patience, Monseigneur, I beg of you. Here comes 
 
406 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONXE. 
 
 M. le Due d'Anjou, talking with the Chevalier de Lor- 
 raine ; I should not be surprised if they spared us the 
 trouble of being indiscreet. Listen to them." 
 
 In factj the chevalier said to the prince in a low voice : 
 •'I\Ionseigneur, it is not natural for M. Mazarin to give 
 you so much money. Take care ! you will let some of 
 the pieces fall, Monseigneur. What design has the 
 cardinal upon you, to make him so generous]" 
 
 " As I said," whispered Athos in the prince's ear, ^^now, 
 perhaps, we shall have a reply to your question." 
 
 "Tell me, Monseigneur," repeated the chevalier, im- 
 patiently, while he estimated, by weighing it in his 
 pocket, the quota of the gift which had glanced his 
 way. 
 
 *'My dear chevalier, a nuptial present." 
 " What ! a nuptial present ! " 
 
 " Eh ! yes, I am going to be married ! " replied the 
 Due d'Anjou, without perceiving, at the moment he 
 was passing, the prince and Athos, who both bowed 
 respectfully. 
 
 The chevalier darted at the young duke a glance so 
 stvange and so malicious that the Comte de la Fere was 
 startled by it. " You ! you to be married ! " repeated 
 he ; " oh, that 's impossible-! You would not commit 
 such a folly ! " 
 
 ^'Bah! I don't do it myself; I am made to do it," 
 replied the Due d'Anjou. " But come quick ! let us get 
 rid of our money." Thereupon he disappeared with his 
 companion, laughing and talking, while all heads bowed 
 as he went by. 
 
 "Then," whispered the prince to Athos, ^' that is the 
 secret." 
 
 "It was not I that told you so, Monseigneur." 
 " He is to marry the sister of Charles II. ] " 
 
MAZARIN BECOMES PRODIGAL. 
 
 407 
 
 "I believe so." 
 
 The prince reflected for a moment, and his eye shot 
 forth a vivid flash. ^' Humph ! " said he slowly, as if 
 speaking to himself ; once more our swords are to be 
 hung on the wall — for a long time ! " and he sighed. 
 
 All which that sigh contained of ambition silently 
 stifled, of illusions extinguished and hopes disappointed, 
 Athos alone divined, for he alone had heard it. Imme- 
 diately after, the prince took leave and the king departed. 
 x4.thos, by a sign made to Bragelonne, renewed the desire 
 he had expressed at the beginning of the scene. By 
 degrees the chamber w^as deserted, and Mazarin was left 
 alone, a prey to sufferings which he could no longer con- 
 ceal. "Bernouin! Bernouin ! " cried he, in a broken 
 voice. 
 
 "What does Monseigneur want V 
 Guenaud, — let Guenand be sent for," said his Emi- 
 nence. " I think 1 am dying." ' 
 
 Bernouin, in great terror, rushed into the cabinet to 
 give the order; and the courier, w-ho hastened to fetch 
 the physician, passed the king's carriage in the Kue 
 St. Honore. 
 
408 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLIII. 
 
 GUENAUD. 
 
 The order of the cardinal was pressing ; Guenaud quickly 
 obeyed it. He found his patient stretched upon his bed, 
 his legs swelled, livid, and his stomach collapsed. Maza- 
 rin had just undergone a severe attack of gout. He suf- 
 fered cruelly, and with the impatience of a man who has 
 not been accustomed to resistance. On the arrival of 
 Guenaud, ^' Ah ! ^' said he, ^' now I am saved ! " 
 
 Guenaud was a very learned and circumspect man, 
 who did not need the censure of Boileau to obtain a repu- 
 tation. When in face of a disease, if it were personified 
 in a king, he treated the patient as a Turk or a Moor. He 
 did not therefore reply to Mazarin as the minister ex- 
 pected : *' Here is the doctor; good-by, disease." On 
 the contrary, on examining his patient with a very 
 serious air, Oh ! oh ! said he. 
 
 " Eh ] what 1 Guenaud ! How you look ! " 
 
 look as I ought to do on seeing your complaint, 
 Monseigneur ; it is a very dangerous one." 
 The gout — oh, yes, the gout." 
 With complications, Monseigneur." 
 
 Mazarin raised himself upon his elbow, and, questioning 
 by look and gesture : What do you mean by that ? Am 
 I worse than I think 1 " 
 
 " Monseigneur," said Guenaud, seating himself by the 
 bed, '^your Eminence has worked very hard during your 
 life ; your Eminence has suffered much." 
 
GUENAUD. 
 
 409 
 
 *^ But I am not so very old, I fancy. The late M. de 
 Eichelieu was but seventeen months younger than I am, 
 when he died — and died of a mortal disease. I am 
 young, Guenaud ; remember that I am scarcely fifty- 
 two." 
 
 ^' Oh, Monseigneur, you are much more than that! 
 How long did the Fronde last 1 " 
 Why do you ask that ^ " 
 
 '^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 three years, — that makes thirty ; now 
 twenty and fifty-two make seventy-two years. You are 
 seventy-two, Monseigneur ! and that is a great age." 
 
 While saying this, he felt the pulse of his patient. It 
 exhibited indications so fatal that the physician continued, 
 notwithstanding the interruptions of the patient : " Put 
 down the years of the Fronde at four each ; you have 
 lived eighty-two years." 
 
 ^' Are you speaking seriously, Guenaud 1 " 
 
 ''Alas! yes, Monseigneur." 
 
 " You announce to me, then, in this roundabout way, 
 tliat I am very ilH " 
 
 " My faith ! yes, Monseigneur ; and with a man of the 
 mind and courage of your Eminence, it ought not to be 
 necessary to speak indirectly." 
 
 The cardinal breathed with such difficulty that he in- 
 spired pity even in a pitiless physician. " There are 
 diseases and diseases," resumed Mazarin ; *'from some 
 of them people escape." 
 
 ^' That is true, Monseigneur." 
 
 "Is it not 1 " cried Mazarin, almost joyously ; " for, in 
 short, of what use would power be, and strength, and will 1 
 Of what use would genius be, — your genius, Guenaud? 
 
410 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Of what use would science and art be, if the patient, who 
 controls all that, cannot be saved from periH" 
 
 Guenaud was about to open his mouth, but Mazarin 
 continued. 
 
 " Eemember," said he, ''I am the most confiding of 
 your patients ; remember tliat I 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 overcome disease, 
 which God doubtless sends, or which he cast upon the 
 earth at the creation, with full power to destroy and kill 
 mankind. When the disease is mortal, it kills, and 
 nothing can — " 
 
 " Is — my disease — mortal 'I " asked Mazarin. 
 
 ^' Yes, ]\ronseigneur." 
 
 His Eminence sank down for a moment, like an unfor- 
 tunate w^'etch who is crushed by a falling column. But 
 the spirit of Mazarin was strong, or rather his mind was 
 firm. ^' Guenaud," said he, recovering from the first 
 shock, *^you will permit me to appeal from your judgment. 
 I will call together the most learned men of Europe; I 
 will consult them. I will live, in short, by the power of 
 some. remedy, I care not what." 
 
 Monseigneur must not suppose," said Guenaud, that 
 I have the presumption to pronounce alone upon an ex- 
 istence so valuable as his. I have already assembled all 
 the good physicians and practitioners of France and 
 Europe. There were twelve of them." 
 
 And they have said — " 
 
 They have said that your Eminence is attacked with 
 a mortal disease ; I have the consultation signed in my 
 portfolio. If your Eminence will please to see it, you 
 
GUENAUD. 
 
 411 
 
 will find the names of all the mcurable diseases we have 
 met with. There is, first — " 
 
 No, no ! " cried Mazarin, pushing away the paper. 
 " No, no, Guenaud, I yield ! I yield I " and a profound 
 silence, during which the cardinal resumed his senses and 
 recovered his strength, succeeded to the agitation of this 
 scene. ^' There is another thing," murmured Mazarin ; 
 
 there are empirics and charlatans. In my countr}^ 
 those whom physicians abandon run the chance of a 
 vender of orvietan, which ten times kills them, but a 
 hundred times saves them." 
 
 " Has not your Eminence observed that during the last 
 month I have altered my remedies ten times 1 
 Yes. Well ^ " 
 
 Well, I have spent fifty thousand livres in purchasing 
 the secrets of all these fellows ; the list is exhausted, and 
 so is my purse. You are not cured ; and but for my 
 art you would be dead." 
 
 " That ends it ! " murmured the cardinal ; *Hhat ends 
 it ; " and he threw a melancholy look upon the riches 
 which surrounded him. And must I quit all that 1 " 
 sighed he. I am dying, Guenaud ! I am dying ! " 
 
 " Oh, not yet, Monseigneur ! " said the physician. 
 
 Mazarin seized his hand. In how long a time V asked 
 he, fixing his large eyes upon the impassive countenance 
 of the physician. 
 
 Monseigneur, we never tell that." 
 To ordinary men, perhaps not ; but to me, — to me, 
 whose every minute is worth a treasure. Tell me, Gue- 
 naud, tell me ! " 
 
 ^*No, no, Monseigneur." 
 I insist upon it, I tell you ! Oh, give me a month, 
 and for every one of those thirty days I will pay you a 
 hundred thousand livres ! " 
 
412 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " Monseigueur," replied Guenaud, in a firm voice, " it 
 is God who can give you days of grace, and not I. God 
 allows you only fifteen days." 
 
 The cardinal breathed a painful sigh, and sank back 
 upon his pillow, murmuring, Thank you, Guenaud, 
 thank you ! " 
 
 The physician w^as about to depart ; the dying man 
 raising himself up, Keep it secret,'' said he, with eyes 
 of flame, keep it secret ! " 
 
 " Monseigneur, I have known this secret two months ; 
 you see that I have kept it faithfully." 
 
 Go, Guenaud, — I will take care of your fortunes, — 
 go, and tell Brienne to send me a clerk ; have them call 
 M. Colbert. Go ! " 
 
COLBERT. 
 
 413 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 COLBERT. 
 
 Colbert was not far off. During the whole, evening he 
 had remained in one of the corridors, chatting with Ber- 
 nouin and Brienne, and commenting, wnth the ordinary 
 skill of people of a court, upon the views which developed 
 themselves, like air-bubbles upon the w\ater, on the sur- 
 face of each event. It is doubtless time to trace, in a few 
 words, one of the most interesting portraits of the age ; 
 and we shall trace it with as much truth, perhaps, as 
 contemporary painters have been able to do. 
 
 Colbert was a man in whom the historian and the moral- 
 ist have an equal interest. He was thirteen years older 
 than Louis XIV., his future master. Of middle height, 
 rather thin than otherwise, he had deep-set eyes, a mean 
 appearance, coarse black and thin hair, — which, say the 
 biographers of his time, made him take early to the skull- 
 cap. A look full of severity, of harshness even, a sort of 
 stiffness, — which with inferiors was pride, with superiors 
 an affectation of virtuous dignity, — a surly cast of coun- 
 tenance upon all occasions, even when looking at himself in 
 a glass alone ; so much for the exterior of this personage. 
 As to the moral part of his character, the depth of his 
 talent for accounts, and his ingenuity in making sterility 
 itself productive were much boasted of 
 
 Colbert had formed the idea of forcing governors of 
 frontier places to feed the garrisons without pay, by 
 levying contributions. Such a valuable quality made 
 
414 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Mazarin think of replacing Joubert, his intendant, who had 
 recently died, by M. Colbert, who had such skill in nib- 
 bling down allowances. Colbert by degrees crept into 
 the court, notwithstanding the meanness of his birth; for 
 he was the son of a man who sold wine, as his father had 
 done, but w4io afterwards sold cloth, and then silk stuffs. 
 Colbert^ destined for trade, bad been a clerk to a mer- 
 chant at Lyons, whom he had quitted to come to Paris in 
 the office of a chatelet procurator named Biterne. It 
 was here he had learned the art of drawing up an ac- 
 count, and the much more valuable one of complicating 
 it. That stiffness of Colbert's had been of great benefit 
 to him ; so true is it that fortune, when she has a caprice, 
 resembles those w^omen of antiquity, whose fancy nothing 
 physical or moral, in either things or men, could repel. 
 Colbert, placed with Michel Letellier, Secretary of State 
 in 1648, by his cousin Colbert, Seigneur de St. Pouange, 
 w^ho favored him, received one day from the minister a 
 commission for Cardinal Mazarin. His Eminence was 
 then in the enjoyment of flourishing health, and the bad 
 years of the Fronde had not yet counted triple and quad- 
 ruple for him. He was, at Sedan, very much annoyed at 
 a court intrigue in which Anne of Austria appeared to wish 
 to desert his cause. Of this intrigue Letellier held the 
 thread. He had just received a letter from Anne of Aus- 
 tria, — a letter very valuable to him, and strongly compro- 
 mising Mazarin ; but as he already played the double 
 part w^hich served him so well, and by which he always 
 managed two enemies so as to draw advantage from both, 
 either by embroiling them more and more or by recon- 
 ciling them, Michel Letellier wished to send Anne of Aus- 
 tria's letter to Mazarin, in order that he might take 
 notice of him and be grateful for a service so handsomely 
 rendered. To send the letter was an easy matter; to 
 
COLBERT. 
 
 415 
 
 recover it again, after having communicated it, that was 
 the difficulty. Letellier cast his eyes around him, and 
 seeing the black and meagre clerk scribbling away with 
 his scowling brow, in his office, preferred him to the best 
 gendarme for the execution of this design. 
 
 Colbert was commanded to set out for Sedan, with pos- 
 itive orders to carry the letter to Mazarin and bring it 
 back to Letellier. He listened to his orders with scrupu- 
 lous attention, required them to be repeated to him twice, 
 and was particular in learning whether the bringing back 
 was as necessary as the communicating; and Letellier 
 said to him, More necessary.'' Then he set out, trav- 
 elled like a courier, without any care for his body, and 
 placed in the hands of Mazarin, first a letter from Letel- 
 lier, which announced to the cardinal the sending of the 
 precious letter, and then that letter itself. Mazarin col- 
 ored greatly while reading Anne of Austria's letter, gave 
 Colbert a gracious smile, and dismissed him. 
 
 " When shall I have the answer, Monseigneur ] " said 
 the courier, humbly. 
 To-morrow^" 
 
 ^' To-morrow morning 1 " 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur." 
 
 The clerk turned upon his heel, after making his very 
 best bow. The next day he was at his post at seven 
 o'clock. Mazarin made him wait till ten. He remained 
 patiently in the antechamber ; his turn having come, he 
 entered. Mazarin gave him a sealed packet. Upon the 
 envelope of this packet were these w^ords : A M. Michel 
 Letellier," etc. Colbert looked at the packet with much 
 attention ; the cardinal put on a pleasant countenance, 
 and pushed him towards the door. 
 
 And the letter of the queen-mother, Monseigneur]" 
 asked Colbert. 
 
416 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 " 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, Monseigneur.'^ 
 
 "You mistrust me, then, master pedant, do you? Did 
 any one ever see such impertinence ? " 
 
 " Oh, Monseigneur, do not be angry with me ! It is 
 certainly not your Eminence's word I place in doubt, 
 God forbid ! " 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 " It is the carefulness of your officials, Monseigneur. 
 What is a letter ? A rag. May not a rag be forgotten ? 
 And, look, Monseigneur, see if I was not riglit. Your 
 clerks have forgotten the rag; the letter is not in the 
 packet." 
 
 "You are an insolent fellow, and you have not looked," 
 cried Mazarin, angrily ; "begone and wait my pleasure!" 
 While saying these words, with a subtlety quite Italian, 
 he snatched the packet from the hands of Colbert, and 
 re-entered his apartments. 
 
 But this anger could not last so long as not to give 
 way in time to reason. Mazarin, every morning, on open- 
 ing the door of his cabinet, found the figure of Colbert 
 standing like a sentinel at his post ; and this disagreeable 
 figure never failed to ask him humbly, but with insist- 
 ence, for the queen-mother's letter. Mazarin could hold 
 out no longer, and was obliged to surrender the letter. 
 He accompanied this restitution with a most severe rep 
 rimand, during w^hich Colbert contented himself with ex- 
 amining, feeling, even smelling, as it were, the papers, the 
 characters, and the signature, neither more nor less than 
 if he had had to do with the greatest forger in the king- 
 
COLBERT. 
 
 417 
 
 dom. Mazarin behaved more rudely still to him ; but 
 Colbert, still impassive, having assured himself that 
 the letter was the true one, went off as if he had been 
 deaf This conduct afterwards was worth tlie post of 
 Joubert to him ; for Mazarin, instead of bearing malice, 
 admired him, and was desirous of attaching so much 
 fidelity to himself. 
 
 It may be judged, by this single anecdote, what the 
 character of Colbert was. Events, gradually developing 
 themselves, brought all the resources of his mind into 
 action. Colbert was not long in insinuating himself into 
 the good graces of the cardinal ; he became even indis- 
 pensable to Mazarin. The clerk was acquainted with all 
 the cardinal's accounts, without his Eminence ever having 
 spoken to him about them. This secret between them 
 w^as a powerful tie ; and it was for this reason that when 
 about to appear before the Master of another world, 
 Mazarin was desirous of taking Colbert's advice in dis- 
 posing of the wealth he was so unwillingly obliged to 
 leave in this world. After the visit of Guenaud, he there- 
 fore sent for Colbert, desired him to sit down, and said to 
 him, Let us converse, M. Colbert, and seriously ; for I 
 am very sick, and I may chance to die.'* 
 Man is mortal," replied Colbert. 
 
 *'I have always remembered that, M. Colbert, and I 
 have worked with that in mind. You know that I have 
 amassed a little wealth." 
 
 I know you have, Monseigneur.*' 
 
 "At how much do you estimate, approximately, the 
 amount of this wealth, M. Colbert 
 
 "At forty million five hundred and sixty thousand 
 two hundred livres nine sous eight deniers," replied 
 Colbert. 
 
 The cardinal fetched a deep sigh, and looked at Col- 
 voL. I — 27 
 
418 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 bert with wonder ; but he allowed a smile to steal across 
 his lips. 
 
 "Property known," added Colbert, in reply to that 
 smile. 
 
 The cardinal made quite a start in his bed. " What 
 do you mean by that ] " said he. 
 
 "I mean," said Colbert, ^' that besides those forty 
 million five hundred and sixty thousand two hundred 
 livres nine sous eight deniers, there are thirteen millions 
 that are not known." 
 
 " Ouff'^ sighed Mazarin, " what a man ! " 
 
 At this moment the head of Bernouin appeared through 
 the opening of the door. 
 
 " What is it 1 " asked Mazarin ; " and why do you dis- 
 turb me ? " 
 
 '^The Theatin father, your Eminence's director, was 
 sent for this evening ; and he cannot come again to Mon- 
 seigneur till after to-morrow." 
 
 Mazarin looked at Colbert, who arose and took his hat, 
 saying, " I will come again, Monseigneur." 
 
 Mazarin hesitated. " ^^o, no," said he ; "I have as 
 much business to transact with you as with him. Besides, 
 you are my other confessor ; and what I have to say to one, 
 the other may hear. Bemain where you are, Colbert." 
 
 "Bat, Monseigneur, if there be a secret of penitence, 
 will the director consent to my being here 1 " 
 
 " Do not trouble yourself about that ; come into the 
 recess.'' 
 
 " 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 recess. 
 
 " Introduce the Theatin father," said Mazarin, closing 
 the curtains. 
 
CONFESSION OF A MAN OF WEALTH. 419 
 
 CHAPTEE XLV. 
 
 CONFESSION OF A MAN OF WEALTH. 
 
 The Theatin entered deliberately, without being too much 
 astonished at the noise and agitation which anxiety for 
 the health of the cardinal had raised in his household. 
 
 " Come in, my reverend father," said Mazarin, after a 
 last look at the recess, — " come in, and console me." 
 
 " That is my duty, Monseigneur,'* replied the Theatin. 
 Begin by sitting down and making yourself comfor- 
 table, for I am going to make a general confession ; you 
 will afterwards give me a good absolution, and I shall be 
 more tranquil." 
 
 " Monseigneur," said the father, "you are not so ill as 
 to make a general confession urgent, and it will be very 
 fatiguing ; take care ! " 
 
 " You suspect, then, that it may be long, Father 1 " 
 How can I think it otherwise, when a man has lived 
 so completely as your Eminence has done 1 " 
 
 "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 having allowed so many things to pass which the 
 Lord might reprove." 
 
 "Is not that always so*?" said the Theatin, naively, 
 removing farther from the lamp his thin pointed face, 
 like that of a mole. " Sinners are so : forgetful before- 
 hand, and scrupulous when it is too late." 
 
420 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 "Sinners \^pecheicrs]V' replied Mazarin. "Do you use ^ 
 that word ironicaily, and to reproach me with all the gen- 
 ealogies I have allowed to be made on my account; — I, 
 the son of a fisherman [pecheur^j in fact 1 " 
 
 " Humph ! " said the Theatin. 
 
 " That is a first sin, Father ; for I have allowed myself 
 to be made to be descended from ancient Roman consuls, 
 T. Geganius Macerinus I., Macerinus II., and Proculus 
 Macerinus III., of whom the Chronicle of Haolander 
 speaks. Between ' Macerinus ' and * Mazarin ' was a 
 tempting similarity. ' Macerinus,' a diminutive, means 
 leanish^ poorish, out of case. Oh, reverend father ! * Ma- 
 zarini ' may now well mean, in the augmentative, thin as 
 Lazarus. Look ! " and he showed his fleshless arms and 
 his legs wasted by fever. 
 
 In your having been born of a family of fishermen I 
 see nothing blameworthy in you, — for Saint Peter was a 
 fisherman ; and if you are a prince of the Church, Mon- 
 seigneur, he was the supreme head of it. Pass on, if you 
 please." 
 
 " The more readily because I threatened with the Bas- 
 tille a certain Bonnet, a priest of Avignon, who wanted 
 to publish a genealogy of the Casa Mazarini much too 
 marvellous.'' 
 
 "To be probable?" replied the Theatin. 
 
 " Oh, if I had acted up to his idea, Father, that would 
 have been the vice of pride, — another sin." 
 
 " It was excess of invention ; and a person is not to be 
 reproached with abuses of that kind. Pass on, pass on ! " 
 
 " I was all pride. Look yon, Father, I will endeavor 
 to divide that into capital sins." 
 
 " I like divisions, when well made." 
 
 " I am glad of that. You must know that in 1630 — 
 alas ! that is thirty-one years ago." 
 
CONFESSION OF A MAN OF WEALTH. 
 
 421 
 
 " You were then twenty-nine years old, Monseigneur." 
 A hot-headed age. I was then something of a soldier, 
 and I threw myself at Casal into the arquebusades, to 
 show that I rode on horseback as well as an officer. It 
 is true I restored peace between the French and the 
 Spaniards ; that redeems my sin a little." 
 
 ^'I see no sin in being able to ride well on horseback," 
 said the Theatin ; " that is in perfect good taste, and 
 does honor to our gown. As a Christian, I approve of 
 your having prevented the effusion of blood ; as a monk, 
 I am proud of the bravery a colleague has exhibited." 
 
 Mazarin bowed his head humbly. *^Yes," said he; 
 '^but the consequences'?" 
 
 " What consequences 1 " 
 
 " Eh ! that damned sin of pride has roots without end. 
 From the time when I threw myself in that manner 
 between two armies, since I have smelt powder and 
 faced lines of soldiers, I have held generals a little in 
 contempt." 
 
 Ah ! " said the father. 
 " There is the evil, — so that since that time I have 
 not found one among them that was endurable." 
 
 **The fact is," said the Theatin, ^'that the generals we 
 have had have not been remarkable." 
 
 Oh ! " cried Mazarin, " there was Monsieur the Prince. 
 I have tormented him thoroughly." 
 
 He is not much to be pitied ; he has acquired suffi- 
 cient glory and sufficient wealth." 
 
 That may be, for Monsieur the Prince ; but M. de 
 Beaufort, for example, — whom I made suffer so long in 
 the dungeons of Yincennes ] " 
 
 Ah ! but he was a rebel ; and the safety of the 
 State required that you should make a sacrifice. Pass 
 on ! " 
 
422 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 I believe I have exhausted pride. There is another 
 sin which I am afraid to qualify/' 
 " I will 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 have had — with her Majesty the queen-mother. 
 The malevolent — " 
 
 " The malevolent, Monseigneur, are fools ; was it not 
 necessary, for the good of the State and the interests of 
 the young king, that you should live in good intelligence 
 with the queen] Pass on, pass on !" 
 
 ''I assure you," said Mazarin, *'you remove a terrible 
 weight from my breast." 
 
 " These are all trifles ! Look for something serious." 
 
 " I have had much ambition, Father." 
 That is the march of great things, Monseigneur.'* 
 Even that trifle of the tiara % " 
 
 " To be Pope is to be the first of Christians. Why 
 should you not desire that % " 
 
 " It has been printed that, to gain that object, I sold 
 Cambrai to the Spaniards." 
 
 "You have, perhaps, yourself written pamphlets with- 
 out too much persecuting pamphleteers." 
 
 " Then, reverend father, I have truly a clean breast. I 
 feel nothing remaining but slight peccadilloes." 
 
 " What are they % " 
 
 " Play." 
 
 " That is rather mundane ; but you were obliged by 
 the duties of greatness to keep a good house." 
 I like to win." 
 " No player plays to lose." 
 " I cheated a little.'' 
 You took your advantage. Pass on." 
 
CONFESSION OF A MAN OF WEALTH. 423 
 
 ^' Well, reverend father, I feel nothing else upon my 
 conscience. Give me absolution, and my soul will be 
 able, when God shall please to call it, to mount without 
 obstacle even to his throne — " 
 
 The Theatin moved neither his arms nor his lips. 
 What are you waiting for, Father % " said Mazarin. 
 I am w^aiting for the end." 
 The end of what % " 
 " Of the confession, Monseigneur." 
 
 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 will assist your memory." 
 *'Do." 
 
 The Theatin coughed several times. " You have said 
 nothing of avarice, another capital sin, nor of those mil- 
 lions," said he. 
 
 " Of what millions, Father % " 
 Why, of those you possess, Monseigneur." 
 
 " 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 ; while I — I believe it belongs in some 
 degree to others." 
 
 Mazarin lifted his cold hand to his brow, which was 
 dewed with sweat. How so 1 " stammered he. 
 
 " In this way. Your Eminence has gained much wealth 
 — in the service of the king." 
 
 Humph ! much — it is not too much." 
 
 " Whatever it may be, whence came that wealth]" 
 
 " From the State." 
 
 " The State, — that is the king." 
 
424 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 ''But what do yoii conclude from that, Father said 
 Mazarin, who began to tremble,. 
 
 " I cannot conclude without seeing a list of the riches 
 you possess. Let us reckon a little, if you please. You 
 have the bishopric of Metz ? 
 
 '' Yes." 
 
 '' The abbeys of St. Clement, St. Arnoud, and St. Yin- 
 cent, all at Metz 1 " 
 " Yes." 
 
 " You have the abbey of St. Denis, in France, — a 
 magnificent property 1" 
 " Yes, Father." 
 
 " You have the abbey of Cluny, which is rich 1 " 
 " I have." 
 
 " That of St. Medard, at Soissons, with a revenue of a 
 hundred thousand livres?" 
 " I cannot deny it." 
 
 "That of St. Yictor, at Marseilles, — one of the best 
 in the South?" 
 "Yes, Father." 
 
 " A good million a year. With the emoluments of the 
 cardinalship and the ministry, it is perhaps two millions 
 a year." 
 
 " Eh ! " 
 
 " In ten years that is twenty millions ; and twenty 
 millions placed out at fifty per cent give, by compounding, 
 twenty additional millions in ten years." 
 
 " 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, Monseigneur." 
 
 « Very well. Now conclude." 
 
CONFESSION OF A MAN OF WEALTH. 425 
 
 I conclude that your baggage is too heavy to allow 
 you to pass through the gates of Paradise." 
 
 ^'I shall be damned 1 " 
 
 " 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 has given it all to me ! " 
 
 "One moment, — the king does not sign the treasury 
 orders." 
 
 Mazarin passed from sighs to groans. "Absolution! 
 absolution ! " cried he. 
 
 "Impossible, Monseigneur. Restitution ! restitution ! 
 replied the Theatin. 
 
 " But you absolve me from all other sins ; why not from 
 that ? " 
 
 " Because," replied the father, to absolve you on that 
 count would be a sin for which the king would never 
 absolve me, Monseigneur." 
 
 Thereupon the confessor quitted his penitent w^th an 
 air full of compunction. He then went out in the same 
 manner as he had entered. 
 
 " Oh, good God ! " groaned the cardinal. " Come here, 
 Colbert! I am very, very ill indeed, my friend." 
 
426 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLVI. 
 
 THE DONATION. 
 
 Colbert reappeared beneath the curtains. 
 
 " Have you heard 1 " said Mazarin. 
 Alas 1 yes, Monseigneur." 
 
 "Can he be right Can all this money be badly 
 acquired ^ 
 
 " A Theatin, Monseigneur, is a bad judge in matters of 
 finance," replied Colbert, coolly ; " and yet it is very 
 possible that, according to his theological ideas, your 
 Eminence has been, in a certain degree, wrong. People 
 generally find they have been so, — when they die." 
 
 " In the first place, they commit the wrong of dying, 
 Colbert." 
 
 " That is true, Monseigneur. Against whom, however, 
 did the Theatin make out that you had committed these 
 wrongs '? — against the king % " 
 
 Mazarin shrugged his shoulders. " As if I had not 
 saved both his State and its finances ! " 
 
 " That admits of no contradiction, Monseigneur." 
 
 ^' Does it not ? Then I have received only a legitimate 
 salary, notwithstanding the opinion of my confessor 
 That is beyond doubt.'* 
 
 " And I might fairly keep for my own family, which is 
 so needy, a good fortune, — the whole, even, of what I 
 have gained % " 
 
 " I see no impediment to that, Monseigneur." 
 
THE DONATION. 
 
 427 
 
 " I felt assured that in consulting you, Colbert, I should 
 have sage advice," replied Mazarin, greatly delighted. 
 
 Colbert made a pedantic grimace. " Monseigneur," 
 interrupted he, I think it would be quite as well to 
 examine whether what the Theatin said is not a snare." 
 
 " Oh, no ! A snare % What for '? The Theatin is an 
 honest man." 
 
 He believed your Eminence to be at the gates of the 
 tomb, because your Eminence consulted him. Did not I 
 hear him say, ^ Distinguish that which the king has 
 given you from that which you have given yourself"? 
 Eecollect, Monscigneur, if he did not say something a 
 little like that to you. That is a speech quite in the 
 Theatin style." 
 
 "That is possible." 
 
 " In which case, Monseigneur, I should consider you 
 as required by the Theatin to — " 
 
 " To make restitution " cried Mazarin, with great 
 warmth. 
 
 "Eh*! I do not say no." 
 
 " Eestitution of all 1 You do not dream of such a thing ! 
 You speak like the confessor." 
 
 " To make restitution of a part, — that is to say, his 
 Majesty's part ; and that, Monseigneur, may have its 
 dangers. Your Eminence is too skilful a politician not to 
 know that at this moment the king does not possess a 
 hundred and fifty thousand livres clear in his coffers." 
 
 " That is not my affair," said Mazarin, triumphantly ; 
 " that belongs to M. le Surintendant Fouquet, whose ac- 
 counts for months past I have given you to verify." 
 
 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, Monseign- 
 eur, would afford him a delicious banquet." 
 
428 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 Well, but I am not the intendant of his Majesty's 
 finances ; I have my own purse. Indeed, I would do 
 much for his ^Majesty's welfare, — some legacy, — but I 
 cannot disappoint my family." 
 
 " The legacy of a part would dishonor you and offend 
 the king. Leaving a part to his Majesty is to avow that 
 that part has inspired you with doubts as to its lawful 
 acquisition." 
 M. Colbert ! 
 
 " I thought your Eminence did me the honor to ask 
 my advice ? " 
 
 Yes ; but yon are ignorant of the principal details of 
 the question." 
 
 I am ignorant of nothing, Monseigneur. During ten 
 years all the columns of figures w^hich are found in France 
 have passed in review before me ; and if I have painfully 
 nailed them into my brain they are there now so well 
 riveted, that, from the office of M. Letellier, who is mod- 
 erate, to the little secret largesses of M. Fouquet, 
 who is prodigal, I could recite, figure by figure, all the 
 money that is spent in France, from Marseilles to 
 Cherbourg." 
 
 Then you would have me throw all my money into 
 the coffers of the king ? " cried Mazarin, ironically, 
 from whom at the same time the gout forced painful 
 moans. Certainly the king would reproach me with 
 nothing ; but he would laugh at me w^hile absorbing my 
 millions, and with 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 to him." 
 
 "Ah!" replied Colbert, ''that is because your Emi- 
 
THE DONATION. 
 
 429 
 
 nence, absorbed as you are by your disease, entirely 
 loses sight of the character of Louis XIV.'* 
 '^How soT' 
 
 *^That character, if I may venture to express myself 
 thus, resembles that which Monseigneur confessed just 
 now to the Theatin." 
 
 "Go on ! That is—" 
 
 " Pride ! Pardon me, Monseigneur ; haughtiness I 
 mean. Kings have no pride ; that is a human passion." 
 
 " Pride, — yes, you are right. Next 1 " 
 Well, Monseigneur, if I have divined rightly, your 
 Eminence has but to give all your money to the king, 
 and that immediately." 
 
 "But what for] " said Mazarin, quite bewildered. 
 
 " Because the king will not accept the whole." 
 
 " Oh ! a young man who has no money, and is con- 
 sumed by ambition ! " 
 
 " Precisely." 
 
 " A young man who is anxious for my death — " 
 " Monseigneur ! " 
 
 " To inherit, yes, Colbert, yes ; he is anxious for my 
 death in order to inherit. Triple fool that I am ! I 
 would prevent him ! " 
 
 " Exactly ; if the donation is made in a certain form, 
 he will refuse it." 
 
 " Well ; but how 1 " 
 
 " It is certain. A young man who has yet done 
 nothing, who burns to distinguish himself, who burns to 
 reign alone, will never take anything ready built ; he will 
 wish to construct for himself. This prince, Monseigneur, 
 will never be content with the Palais-Eoyal, which M. de 
 Eichelieu left him ; nor with the Palais-Mazarin, which 
 you have caused to be so superbly constructed ; nor 
 with the Louvre, which his ancestors inhabited ; nor with 
 
430 
 
 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 St. Germain, where he was born. All that does not pro- 
 ceed from himself he will disdain. I predict it." 
 
 ^' And you will guarantee that if I give my forty 
 millions to the king — 
 
 "Saying certain things to him at the same time, I 
 guarantee he will refuse them." 
 
 " But those things, — what are they ? " 
 
 " I will wTite them, if Monseigneur is willing to employ 
 me." 
 
 " Well ; but, after all, what advantage will that be to me'i " 
 An enormous one. Xobody will afterwards be able 
 to accuse your Eminence of that unjust avarice with 
 which pamphleteers have reproached the most brilliant 
 mind of the present age." 
 
 " You are right, Colbert, you are right ; go and seek 
 the king, on my part, and carry him my will." 
 A donation, Monseigneur." 
 
 But if he should accept it, — if he should accept it ! " 
 
 " Then there would remain thirteen millions for your 
 family ; and that is a good round sum." 
 
 But then you would be either a fool or a traitor." 
 
 "x\nd I am neither the one nor the other, Monseigneur. 
 You appear to be nmch afraid the king will accept ; oh, 
 fear rather that he will not accept ! " 
 
 " But, see you, if he does not accept, I should like to 
 guarantee my thirteen reserved millions to him, — yes, I 
 will do so, — yes. But my pains are returning ; I shall faint. 
 I am very, very ill, Colbert ; I am very near my end ! " 
 
 Colbert started. The cardinal was indeed yerj ill ; 
 large drops of sweat flowed down upon his bed of agony, 
 and .the. frightful paleness of a face streaming with water 
 was a spectacle which the most hardened practitioner 
 could not have beheld without compassion. Colbert was, 
 without doubt, very much affected ; for he quitted the 
 
THE DONATION. 
 
 431 
 
 chamber, calling Bernouin to attend the dying man, and 
 went into the corridor. There, walking about with a 
 meditative expression, which almost gave nobleness to 
 his vulgar head, his shoulders thrown up, his neck 
 stretched out, his lips half open, to give vent to uncon- 
 nected fragments of incoherent thoughts, he lashed up 
 his courage to the pitch of the undertaking contemplated ; 
 while within ten paces of him, separated only by a wall, 
 his master was overcome by pain which drew from him 
 lamentable cries, thinking no more of the treasures of 
 the earth or of the joys of Paradise, but much of all the 
 horrors of hell. While burning-hot napkins, topicals, 
 revulsives, and Guenaud, who was recalled, were per- 
 forming their functions with increased activity, Colbert, 
 holding his great head in both his hands, to compress 
 within it the fever of the projects engendered by the 
 brain, was meditating the tenor of the donation he 
 would make Mazarin write, at the first hour of respite 
 his disease should afford him. It would appear as if 
 all the cries of the cardinal, and all the attacks of death 
 upon this representative of the past, were stimulants for 
 the genius of this thinker with the bushy eyebrows, who 
 was turning already towards the rising of the new sun 
 of a regenerated society. Colbert resumed his place at 
 Mazarin's pillow at the first interval of pain, and per- 
 suaded him to dictate a donation thus conceived : — 
 
 About to appear before God, the Master of mankind, I he^ 
 the king, who was my master on earth, to resume the wealth 
 which his bounty has bestowed upon me, and which my family 
 would be happy to see pass into such illustrious hands. The 
 particulars of my property will be found — they are drawn up 
 — at the first requisition of his Majesty, or at the last sigh of 
 his most devoted servant. 
 
 Jules, Cardinal de Mazarin, 
 
432 THE VICOMTE DE BRAGELONNE. 
 
 r 
 
 The cardinal sighed heavily as he signed this. Colbert 
 sealed the packet, and carried it immediately to the 
 Louvre, whither the king had returned. He then went 
 back to his own home, rubbing his hands with the 
 confidence of a workman who has done a good day's 
 work.