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THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK....................................................................................................................1

Alexandre Dumas (pere) ..........................................................................................................................1

WHILE EVERY ONE AT court was busy with his own affairs, a man mysteriously took up his post behind

the Place de Greve, in the house which we once saw besieged by d'Artagnan on the occasion of a riot. The

principal entrance of this house was in the Place Baudoyer. The house was tolerably large, surrounded by

gardens, enclosed in the Rue St. Jean by the shops of toolmakers, which protected it from prying looks; and

was walled in by a triple rampart of stone, noise, and verdure, like an embalmed mummy in its triple coffin.

The man to whom we have just alluded walked along with a firm step, although he was no longer in his early

prime. His dark cloak and long sword outlined beneath the cloak plainly revealed a man seeking adventures;

and judging from his curling mustaches, his fine and smooth skin, as seen under his sombrero, the gallantry

of his adventures was unquestionable. In fact, hardly had the cavalier entered the house, when the clock of St.

Gervais struck eight; and ten minutes afterwards a lady, followed by an armed servant, approached and

knocked at the same door, which an old woman immediately opened for her. The lady raised her veil as she

entered; though no longer a beauty, she was still a woman; she was no longer young, yet she was sprightly

and of an imposing carriage. She concealed, beneath a rich toilet of exquisite taste, an age which Ninon de

l'Enclos alone could have smiled at with impunity. Hardly had she reached the vestibule, when the cavalier,

whose features we have only roughly sketched, advanced towards her, holding out his hand.

He led her to an elegantly furnished apartment, on whose high windows were reflected the expiring rays of

the setting sun, which filtered through the dark crests of some adjoining firs. They sat down side by side.

Neither of them thought of asking for additional light in the room, and they buried themselves thus in the

"Chevalier," said the duchess, "you have never given me a single sign of life since our interview at

Fontainebleau; and I confess that your presence there on the day of the Franciscan's death, and your initiation

in certain secrets, caused me the liveliest astonishment I ever experienced in my whole life."

"I can explain my presence there to you, as well as my initiation," said Aramis.

"But let us, first of all," replied the duchess, quickly, "talk a little of ourselves, for our friendship is by no

"Yes, Madame; and if Heaven wills it, we shall continue to be friends, I will not say for a long time, but

"Our interests, Madame the Duchess, are no longer the same that they used to be," said Aramis, smiling

without reserve in the dim light, which could not show that his smile was less agreeable and less bright than

"No, Chevalier, at the present day we have other interests. Every period of life brings its own; and as we now

understand each other in conversing as perfectly as we formerly did without saying a word, let us talk, if you

"I am at your orders, Duchess. Ah! I beg your pardon; how did you obtain my address, and what was your

"You ask me why? I have told you. Curiosity, in the first place. I wished to know what you could have to do

with the Franciscan with whom I had certain business, and who died so singularly. You know that on the

occasion of our interview at Fontainebleau, in the cemetery, at the foot of the grave so recently closed, we

were both so much overcome by our emotions that we omitted to confide anything to each other."

"Well, then, I had no sooner left you than I repented, and have ever since been most anxious to ascertain the

truth. You know that Madame de Longueville and myself are almost one, I suppose?"

"I remembered, then," continued the duchess, "that neither of us said anything to the other in the cemetery;

that you did not speak of the relationship in which you stood to the Franciscan, whose burial you had

superintended, and that I did not refer to the position in which I stood to him, all which seemed to me very

unworthy of two such old friends as ourselves; and I have sought an opportunity of an interview with you in

order to give you proof that I am devoted to you, and that Marie Michon, now no more, has left behind her a

Aramis bowed over the duchess's hand, and pressed his lips upon it. "You must have had some trouble to find

"Yes," answered the duchess, annoyed to find the subject taking a turn which Aramis wished to give it; "but I

knew that you were a friend of M. Fouquet, and so I inquired in that direction."

"A friend! Oh," exclaimed the chevalier, "you exaggerate, Madame! A poor priest who has been favored by

so generous a protector, and whose heart is full of gratitude and devotion to him, is all that I am to M.

"In the same way that political intrigue is for yourself," thought Aramis. "And so," he said, "you inquired

"Easily enough. You had been to Fontainebleau with him, and had undertaken a voyage to your diocese,

"Ah! I had been told that BelleIsle was fortified; besides, I know that you are a military man, my friend."

"I have forgotten everything of the kind since I entered the church," said Aramis, annoyed.

"Very well. I then learned that you had returned from Vannes, and I sent to one of our friends, M. le Comte

de la Fere, who is discretion itself; but he answered that he was not aware of your address."

"So like Athos," thought the bishop; "that which is actually good never alters."

"Well, then, you know that I cannot venture to show myself here, and that the QueenMother has always

"Oh, there are various reasons for it! But, to continue, being obliged to conceal myself, I was fortunate

"He gave me some information, and sent me to M. de Baisemeaux, the governor of the Bastille."

Aramis started; and a light flashed from his eyes in the darkness of the room which he could not conceal from

his keensighted friend. "M. de Baisemeaux!" he said; "why did d'Artagnan send you to M. de Baisemeaux?"

"What can this possibly mean?" said the bishop, summoning all the resources of his mind to his aid, in order

"Which I have in my hand, and which is most precious to me," said Aramis, "because I am indebted to it for

The duchess, satisfied at having so successfully passed over the various difficulties of so delicate an

explanation, began to breathe freely again; which Aramis, however, could not succeed in doing. "We had got

"In that case we must have been speaking about your grudge against the QueenMother."

"Further still," returned the duchess, "further still; we were talking of the connection"

"Which existed between you and the Franciscan," said Aramis, interrupting her eagerly; "well, I am listening

"It is easily explained," returned the duchess, making up her mind. "You know that I am living at Brussels

"Terrible, indeed! This obliged me to resort to some means of obtaining a livelihood, and particularly to

avoid vegetating. I had old hatreds to turn to account, old friendships to serve; I no longer had either credit or

"You, too, who had extended protection towards so many persons," said Aramis, blandly.

"Ah!" "Who had just nominated a general of the Jesuits, according to the usual custom."

"You must be aware of that, you who were on such good terms with the Franciscan."

"Exactly. Well, then, I saw the King of Spain, who wished to do me a service, but was unable. He gave me

recommendations, however, to Flanders, both for myself and for Laicques, and conferred a pension on me out

"Yes. The general I mean the Franciscan was sent to me; and in order to give regularity to the transaction,

in accordance with the statutes of the order, I was reputed to be in a position to render certain services. You

Madame de Chevreuse paused to look at Aramis, but it was quite dark. "Well, such is the rule," she resumed.

"I ought, therefore, to seem to possess a power of usefulness of some kind or other. I proposed to travel for

the order, and I was placed on the list of affiliated travellers. You understand that it was a formality, by

"Good Heavens! Duchess, what you tell me is like a daggerthrust to me. You obliged to receive a pension

"Ah! except as a conscientious scruple, Duchess, you will admit that it is pretty nearly the same thing."

"Yes; but Dampierre is burdened, mortgaged, and somewhat in ruins, like its owner."

"And can the QueenMother see all that without shedding a tear?" said Aramis, with a penetrating look,

"Yes; but, most singularly, the young King inherits the antipathy that his dear father had for me. Ah, you too

will tell me that I am indeed a woman to be hated, and that I am no longer one who can be loved."

"Dear Duchess, pray arrive soon at the circumstance which brought you here; for I think we can be of service

"Such has been my own thought. I came to Fontainebleau, then, with a double object in view. In the first

place, I was summoned there by the Franciscan whom you knew. By the by, how did you know him? for I

"I knew him in a very natural way, Duchess. I studied theology with him at Parma; we became fast friends,

but it happened, from time to time, that business or travels or war separated us from each other."

"But by what extraordinary chance did you come to the hotel where the affiliated travellers had met

"Oh," said Aramis, in a calm voice, "it was the merest chance in the world! I was going to Fontainebleau to

see M. Fouquet, for the purpose of obtaining an audience of the King. I was passing by, unknown; I saw the

poor dying monk in the road, and recognized him. You know the rest, he died in my arms."

"Yes, but bequeathing to you so vast a power in Heaven and on earth that you issue sovereign orders in his

"I have told you, a sum of twelve thousand livres was to be paid to you. I thought I had given you the

"Oh, yes, yes! My dear prelate, you give your orders, I am informed, with so much mystery and such august

majesty that it is generally believed you are the successor of the beloved dead."

Aramis colored impatiently, and the duchess continued. "I have obtained information," she said, "from the

King of Spain himself; and he dispelled my doubts on the point. Every general of the Jesuits is nominated by

him, and must be a Spaniard, according to the statutes of the order. You are not a Spaniard, nor have you

Aramis did not reply to this remark, except to say, "You see, Duchess, how greatly you were mistaken, since

"Yes, my dear Aramis; but there was something else of which I have been thinking."

"You know that I do a great deal of desultory thinking, and it occurred to me that you know the Spanish

"Undoubtedly. Two years' residence and an acquaintance with the language are indispensable. You have had

"Do you wish me to ask the King," continued the duchess, "to confer the succession to the Franciscan's office

"Why did you not render the same service to M. de Laicques, Duchess? He is a very talented man, and one

"Yes, no doubt; but that is not to be considered. At all events, putting Laicques aside, answer me, will you

She paused. "He is nominated," she thought; and then resumed aloud, "If you refuse me in this manner, it is

"Ah!" replied Aramis, coldly, "money? Well, Duchess, how much would you require?"

"Because I have, or rather Laicques has, certain letters in his possession from Cardinal Mazarin, which

"Relative to various sums of money borrowed and disposed of. I do not fully remember; but the point is that

the superintendent, according to these letters, which are signed by Mazarin, had taken thirty millions from the

Aramis clinched his hands in anxiety and apprehension. "Is it possible," he said, "that you have such letters,

"Ah!" replied the duchess, "I keep such little matters as these in reserve. When the day of need comes, we

"You must be in sad want of money, my poor friend, to think of such things as these, you, too, who held M.

"And then," continued Aramis, in cold accents, "it must have been very distressing to you to be obliged to

"Oh, if I had wished to do harm instead of good," said Madame de Chevreuse, "instead of asking the general

"Yes; no more. Do you think it much? I require at least as much as that to restore Dampierre."

"I say, therefore, that instead of asking for this amount I should have gone to see my old friend the

QueenMother; the letters from her husband, the Signor Mazarini, would have served me as an introduction,

and I should have begged this mere trifle of her, saying to her, 'I wish, Madame, to have the honor of

receiving your Majesty at Dampierre. Permit me to put Dampierre in a fit state for that purpose.'"

Aramis did not say a single word in reply. "Well," she said, "what are you thinking about?"

"And M. Fouquet makes subtractions. I, on the other hand, am trying the art of multiplication. What excellent

"No; to such an overture between persons like ourselves, 'Yes' or 'No' should be the reply, and that

"It is a snare," thought the bishop; "it is impossible that Anne of Austria would listen to such a woman as

"Well, Madame, I should be very much astonished if M. Fouquet had five hundred thousand livres at his

"It is of no use speaking of it further, then," said the duchess, "and Dampierre must get restored how it can."

"And the Queen," continued the bishop, "will certainly do for you what the superintendent is unable to do."

"Oh, certainly! But tell me, do you not think it would be better that I should speak myself to M. Fouquet

"You will do whatever you please in that respect, Duchess. M. Fouquet either feels or does not feel himself to

be guilty. If he really be so, I know that he is proud enough not to confess it; if he be not so, he will be

"Denounce? Oh, what a disagreeable word! I shall not denounce, my dear friend. You now know matters of

policy too well to be ignorant how easily these affairs are arranged. I shall merely side against M. Fouquet,

"And once on friendly terms again with the QueenMother, I may be dangerous towards some persons."

"You are not ignorant, I suppose, Duchess, that M. Fouquet is on the best terms with the King of Spain?"

"If, therefore, you begin a party warfare against M. Fouquet, he will reply in the same way; for he too is at

"And as he is on good terms with Spain, he will make use of that friendship as a weapon."

"You mean that he will be on good terms with the general of the order of the Jesuits, my dear Aramis."

"And that, consequently, the pension I have been receiving from the order will be stopped."

"Well, I must contrive to console myself; for after Richelieu, after the Frondes, after exile, what is there left

"Moreover, in party contests, you know, the friends of the enemy do not escape."

"Yes, but the King of Spain has some influence left; advised by M. Fouquet, he might get M. Laicques shut

"I have no great fear of that, my good friend; because, thanks to a reconciliation with Anne of Austria, I will

"You will learn indeed, you must know it already that having once been an affiliated member of the order,

it is not easy to leave it; for the secrets that any particular member may have acquired are unwholesome, and

The duchess considered for a moment, and then said, "That is more serious; I will think it over."

Notwithstanding the profound obscurity in which he sat, Aramis seemed to feel a burning glance, like a hot

"Let us recapitulate," said Aramis, determined to keep himself on his guard, and gliding his hand into his

"Fortyeight thousand livres and that of Laicques's twelve make together sixty thousand livres; that is what

"Precisely; and I was trying to find out what would be your equivalent for that."

This remark made the chevalier prick up his ears; and from the moment when his adversary had committed

this error, his mind was so thoroughly on its guard that he seemed every moment to gain the advantage more

and more, and she, consequently, to lose it. "I will admit, for argument's sake, that you obtain the money," he

resumed; "you will lose twice as much, having a hundred thousand livres' pension to receive instead of sixty

"Not so, for I shall only be subjected to this diminution of my income during the period of M. Fouquet's

"I thank you for it, Duchess; but you would be wrong to suppose that after M. Fouquet's disgrace the order

"I know a means of making the order come down with its money, as I know a means of forcing the

"In that case, Duchess, we are all obliged to strike our flags to you. The victory is yours, and the triumph also

"But is it possible," resumed the duchess, without taking notice of the irony, "that you really draw back from

a miserable sum of five hundred thousand livres when it is a question of sparing you I mean your friend I

beg your pardon, I ought rather to say your protector the disagreeable consequences which a party contest

"Duchess, I will tell you why. Supposing the five hundred thousand livres were to be given to you, M. de

Laicques will require his share, which will be another five hundred thousand livres, I presume; and then, after

M. de Laicques's and your own portions, will come the portions for your children, your poor pensioners, and

various other persons; and these letters, however compromising they may be, are not worth from three to four

millions. Good heavens! Duchess, the Queen of France's diamonds were surely worth more than these bits of

waste paper signed by Mazarin; and yet their recovery did not cost a fourth part of what you ask for

"Yes, that is true; but the merchant values his goods at his own price, and it is for the purchaser to buy or to

"Stay a moment, Duchess; would you like me to tell you why I will not buy your letters?"

"I have no doubt of it; for it would, to say the least, be very singular that after you had quarrelled with the

Queen through M. Mazarin's means, you should have kept up any intimate acquaintance with the latter; it

would savor of passion, of treachery, of Upon my word, I do not like to make use of the term."

"That is quite true; but what is not less so is that which the letter contains."

"I pledge you my word, Duchess, that you will not be able to make use of it with the Queen."

But the duchess had said enough, and advanced a few steps towards the door. Aramis, however, had reserved

a humiliation which she did not expect, the imprecation of the vanquished behind the car of the conqueror.

He rang the bell. Candles immediately appeared in the room; and the bishop found himself completely

encircled by lights, which shone upon the worn, haggard face of the duchess. Aramis fixed a long and ironical

look upon her pale and withered cheeks, upon her dim, dull eyes, and upon her lips, which she kept carefully

closed over her blackened and scanty teeth. He, however, had thrown himself into a graceful attitude, with his

haughty and intelligent head thrown back; he smiled so as to reveal his teeth, which were still brilliant and

The old coquette understood the trick that had been played upon her. She was standing immediately before a

large mirror, in which all her decrepitude, so carefully concealed, was only made more manifest by the

contrast. Thereupon, without even saluting Aramis, who bowed with the ease and grace of the musketeer of

early days, she hurried away with tottering steps, which her very haste only the more impeded. Aramis sprang

across the room like a zephyr to lead her to the door. Madame de Chevreuse made a sign to her huge lackey,

who resumed his musket; and she left the house where such tender friends had not been able to understand

Chapter II: Wherein May Be Seen That a Bargain Which Cannot Be Made with One Person Can Be

ARAMIS had been perfectly correct in his supposition. Immediately on leaving the house in the Place

Baudoyer, Madame de Chevreuse had proceeded homeward. She was doubtless afraid of being followed, and

had sought in this way to cover her steps; but as soon as she had arrived within the door of the hotel, and

assured herself that no one who could cause her any uneasiness was on her track, she opened the door of the

garden leading into another street, and hurried towards the Rue CroixdesPetitsChamps, where M. Colbert

We have already said that evening, or rather night, had closed in, and it was a dark, thick night. Paris had

once more sunk into its calm, quiescent state, enshrouding alike within its indulgent mantle the highborn

duchess carrying out her political intrigue, and the simple citizen's wife who having been detained late by a

supper in the city was proceeding homewards, on the arm of a lover, by the longest possible route.

Madame de Chevreuse had been too well accustomed to nocturnal politics not to know that a minister never

denies himself, even at his own private residence, to any young and beautiful woman who may chance to

object to the dust and confusion of a public office; or to old women, as full of experience as of years, who

dislike the indiscreet echo of official residences. A valet received the duchess under the peristyle, and

received her, it must be admitted, with some indifference of manner; he intimated, after having looked at her

face, that it was hardly at such an hour that one so advanced in years as herself could be permitted to disturb

M. Colbert's important occupations. But Madame de Chevreuse, without disquietude, wrote her name upon a

leaf of her tablets, a blusterous name, which had so often sounded disagreeably in the ears of Louis XIII and

of the great cardinal. She wrote her name in the large illformed characters of the higher classes of that

period, folded the paper in a manner peculiarly her own, and handed it to the valet without uttering a word,

but with so haughty and imperious a gesture that the fellow, well accustomed to judge of people from their

manners and appearance, perceived at once the quality of the person before him, bowed his head, and ran to

The minister could not control a sudden exclamation as he opened the paper; and the valet, gathering from it

the interest with which his master regarded the mysterious visitor, returned as fast as he could to beg the

duchess to follow him. She ascended to the first floor of the beautiful new house very slowly, rested herself

on the landingplace in order not to enter the apartment out of breath, and appeared before M. Colbert, who

with his own hands held open the foldingdoors. The duchess paused at the threshold for the purpose of

studying well the character of the man with whom she was about to converse. At the first glance the round,

large, heavy head, thick brows, and illfavored features of Colbert, who wore, thrust low down on his head, a

cap like a priest's calotte, seemed to indicate that but little difficulty was likely to be met with in her

negotiations with him, but also that she was to expect little interest in the discussion of particulars; for there

was scarcely any indication that that rude man could be susceptible to the attractions of a refined revenge or

of an exalted ambition. But when on closer inspection the duchess perceived the small, piercingly black eyes,

the longitudinal wrinkles of his high and massive forehead, the imperceptible twitching of the lips, on which

were apparent traces of rough goodhumor, she changed her mind and said to herself, "I have found the man

"The need I have of you, Monsieur," returned the duchess, "and that which you have of me."

"I am delighted, Madame, with the first portion of your sentence; but so far as the second portion is

Madame de Chevreuse sat down in the armchair which M. Colbert placed before her. "M. Colbert, you are

"Nay, do not deny it! That would only unnecessarily prolong our conversation, it is useless."

"And yet, Madame," replied the intendant, "however well disposed and inclined to show politeness I may be

towards a lady of your position and merit, nothing will make me confess that I have ever entertained the idea

"I said nothing about supplanting, M. Colbert. Could I accidentally have made use of that word? I hardly

think so. The word 'replace' is less aggressive in its signification, and more grammatically suitable, as M. de

Voiture would say. I presume, therefore, that you are ambitious of replacing M. Fouquet."

"M. Fouquet's fortune, Madame, enables him to withstand all attempts. The superintendent in this age plays

the part of the Colossus of Rhodes; the vessels pass beneath him, and do not overthrow him."

"I ought to have availed myself of that very comparison. It is true. M. Fouquet plays the part of the Colossus

of Rhodes; but I remember to have heard it said by M. Conrart (a member of the Academy, I believe), that

when the Colossus of Rhodes fell from its lofty position, the merchant who had cast it down a merchant,

nothing more, M. Colbert loaded four hundred camels with the ruins. A merchant! that is considerably less

"Very good, M. Colbert, since you persist in showing so much sensitiveness with me, as if you were ignorant

that I am Madame de Chevreuse, and also that I am somewhat advanced in years, in other words, that you

have to do with a woman who has had political dealings with the Cardinal de Richelieu, and who has no time

to lose, since, I say, you commit that imprudence, I shall go and find others who are more intelligent and

"You give me a very poor idea of the negotiations of the present day, Monsieur. I assure you that if in my

time a woman had gone to M. de CinqMars, who was not moreover a man of a very high order of intellect,

and had said to him about the cardinal what I have just now said to you of M. Fouquet, M. de CinqMars

"Again a word too much; it is quite evident that if you have not yet succeeded in driving M. Fouquet from his

post, it is because you have not been able to do so. Therefore I should be a simpleton if in coming to you I did

"I am distressed to be obliged to persist, Madame," said Colbert, after a silence which enabled the duchess to

sound the depth of his dissimulation; "but I must warn you that for the last six years denunciation after

denunciation has been made against M. Fouquet, and he has remained unshaken and unaffected by them."

"There is a time for everything, M. Colbert; those who were the authors of such denunciations were not called

Madame de Chevreuse, and they had no proofs equal to the six letters from M. de Mazarin which establish

"Nothing less. It is rather strange, M. Colbert; but your face, which just now was cold and indifferent, is now

"It embraces the post of superintendent of finance for yourself, and a letter of exile or the Bastille for M.

"Forgive me, Madame the Duchess, but it is almost impossible that M. Fouquet can be exiled; to be

"Oh, I am perfectly aware of what I am saying!" returned Madame de Chevreuse, coldly. "I do not live at

such a distance from Paris as not to know what takes place there. The King does not like M. Fouquet, and he

would willingly sacrifice the superintendent if an opportunity were only presented."

"I mean, Monsieur, that holding this opportunity in my own hands I will not allow it to be transferred to yours

"I understand you perfectly, Madame. But since you have fixed a price for the sale, let me now see the value

"Oh, a mere trifle, six letters, as I have already told you, from M. de Mazarin; and the autographs will most

assuredly not be regarded as too costly, if they establish in an irrefutable manner that M. Fouquet has

embezzled large sums of money from the treasury and appropriated them to his own purposes."

"In an irrefutable manner, do you say?" observed Colbert, whose eyes sparkled with delight.

"Of course, the copies," said the duchess, as she drew from her bosom a small packet of papers flattened by

"Yes, Madame, yes. M. Mazarin must have handed the money to M. Fouquet, who must have kept it for his

"Exactly, what money; if we come to terms, I will join to these six letters a seventh, which will supply you

"A useless question to ask; exactly as if I were to ask you, M. Colbert, whether the moneybags you will give

"No; for there is one circumstance to which neither of us has given any attention."

"M. Fouquet can be utterly ruined, under the circumstances you have detailed, only by means of legal

"Because he is procureurgeneral of the parliament; because, too, in France, the government, the army, the

courts of law, and commerce are intimately connected by ties of goodwill, which people call esprit de corps.

So, Madame, the parliament will never permit its chief to be dragged before a public tribunal; and never, even

"I am aware of that, Madame; but it concerns me, and it consequently diminishes the value of what you have

brought to me. Of what use to bring me a proof of crime, without the possibility of condemnation?"

"Even if he be only suspected, M. Fouquet will lose his post of superintendent."

"That would be a great achievement!" exclaimed Colbert, whose dark, gloomy features were momentarily

"Ah, ah! M. Colbert," said the duchess, "forgive me, but I did not think you were so impressionable. Very

good; in that case, since you need more than I have to give you, there is no occasion to speak of the matter

"Yes, Madame, we will go on talking of it; only, as the value of your commodities has decreased, you must

The duchess laughed in his face, and then said suddenly, "Wait a moment, I have another arrangement to

"Less so than you think, perhaps, for it is not money I am going to ask you for."

"A service. You know that I have always been most affectionately attached to the Queen, and I am desirous

"Yes, M. Colbert, with the Queen, who is, I admit, no longer my friend, and who has ceased to be so for a

long time past, but who may again become so if the opportunity be only given her."

"Her Majesty has ceased to receive any one, Madame. She is a great sufferer, and you may be aware that the

"That is the very reason why I wish to have an interview with her Majesty. In Flanders we have many

"Do not believe that, M. Colbert. The Flemish peasant is something of a savage; he has not a wife exactly, but

"Well, M. Colbert, while he is smoking his pipe, the woman works; it is she who draws the water from the

well, she who loads the mule or the ass, and even bears herself a portion of the burden. Taking but little care

of herself, she gets knocked about here and there, sometimes is even beaten. Cancers arise from contusions."

"The Flemish women do not die the sooner on that account. When they are great sufferers from this disease,

they go in search of remedies; and the Beguines of Bruges are excellent doctors for every kind of disease.

They have precious waters of one sort or another, specifics of various kinds; and they give a bottle and a

wax candle to the sufferer. They derive a profit from the priests, and serve God by the disposal of their two

articles of merchandise. I will take the Queen some of this holy water, which I will procure from the

Beguines of Bruges; her Majesty will recover, and will burn as many wax candles as she may think fit. You

see, M. Colbert, to prevent my seeing the Queen is almost as bad as committing the crime of regicide."

"You are, Madame the Duchess, a woman of great intelligence. You surprise me; still, I cannot but suppose

that this charitable consideration towards the Queen covers some small personal interest of your own."

"Have I tried to conceal it, M. Colbert? You spoke, I believe, of a small personal interest. Understand, then,

that it is a great interest; and I will prove it to you by resuming what I was saying. If you procure me a

personal interview with her Majesty, I will be satisfied with the three hundred thousand livres I have

demanded; if not, I shall keep my letters, unless, indeed, you give me on the spot five hundred thousand

And rising from her seat with this decisive remark, the old duchess left M. Colbert in a disagreeable

perplexity. To bargain any further was out of the question; not to purchase would involve infinite loss.

"Madame," he said, "I shall have the pleasure of handing you over a hundred thousand crowns; but how shall

The financier began to laugh silently, so that his large eyebrows went up and down like the wings of a bat

"I mean that if you would take the trouble to accompany me to the place where the letters are, they would be

"You would bring the hundred thousand crowns with you at the same time? for I too do not trust any one."

Colbert colored to the tips of his ears. Like all eminent men in the art of figures, he was of an insolent and

mathematical probity. "I will take with me, Madame," he said, "two orders for the amount agreed upon,

"Would that the orders on your treasury were for two millions, Monsieur the Intendant! I shall have the

Colbert coughed like an irresolute man. He imagined for a moment that the proposition of the duchess was a

snare; that perhaps some one was waiting at the door; and that she, whose secret had just been sold to Colbert

for a hundred thousand crowns, had already offered it to Fouquet for the same sum. As he still hesitated a

"You suppose that I am going to lead you into a snare or trap of some sort or other?"

"Madame the Duchess, you have the character of being somewhat inconsiderate at times; and as I am clothed

"Yes; the fact is, you are afraid. Well, then, take your own carriage, as many servants as you like. Only,

consider well, what we two may arrange between us, we are the only persons who know it; what a third

person may witness, we announce to the universe. After all, I do not make a point of it; my carriage shall

follow yours, and I shall be satisfied to accompany you in your own carriage to the Queen."

"Have you forgotten that already? Is it possible that one of the clauses of the agreement, of so much

importance to me, can have escaped you already? How trifling it seems to you, indeed! If I had known it, I

"Here they are, Madame," said Colbert, scribbling a few lines on a piece of paper, which he handed to the

"The trait is a fine one, M. Colbert, and I will reward you for it," she said, beginning to laugh.

Madame de Chevreuse's laugh had a very sinister sound. Every man who feels youth, faith, love, life itself,

The duchess opened the front of her dress and drew forth from her bosom, somewhat less white than it once

had been, a small packet of papers, tied with a flamecolored ribbon, and still laughing, she said, "There, M.

Colbert, are the originals of Cardinal Mazarin's letters. They are now your own property," she added,

refastening the body of her dress. "Your fortune is secured; and now accompany me to the Queen."

"No, Madame; if you are again about to run the chance of her Majesty's displeasure, and it were known at the

PalaisRoyal that I had been the means of introducing you there, the Queen would never forgive me while

she lived. No; there are certain persons at the palace who are devoted to me, who will procure you an

"That is again your own affair, Madame. I am going to give directions to the head valet of the gentleman in

waiting on her Majesty to allow admission to a Beguine, who brings an effectual remedy for her Majesty's

sufferings. You are the bearer of my letter, you will undertake to be provided with the remedy, and will give

every explanation on the subject. I admit a knowledge of a Beguine, but I deny all knowledge of Madame de

COLBERT handed the duchess the letter, and gently drew aside the chair behind which she was standing.

Madame de Chevreuse, with a very slight bow, immediately left the room. Colbert, who had recognized

Mazarin's handwriting and had counted the letters, rang to summon his secretary, whom he enjoined to go in

immediate search of M. Vanel, a counsellor of the parliament. The secretary replied that, according to his

usual practice, M. Vanel had just at that moment entered the house, in order to render to the intendant an

account of the principal details of the business which had been transacted during the day in the sitting of the

parliament. Colbert approached one of the lamps, read the letters of the deceased cardinal over again, smiled

repeatedly as he recognized the great value of the papers which Madame de Chevreuse had just delivered to

him, and burying his head in his hands for a few minutes reflected profoundly. In the mean time a tall,

largemade man entered the room; his spare, thin face, steady look, and hooked nose, as he entered Colbert's

cabinet with a modest assurance of manner, revealed a character at once supple and decided, supple towards

the master who could throw him the prey; firm towards the dogs who might possibly be disposed to dispute it

with him. M. Vanel carried a voluminous bundle of papers under his arm, and placed it on the desk on which

"We give the title of 'Monseigneur' to ministers," returned Vanel, with extreme selfpossession, "and you are

"You are so in point of fact, and I call you 'Monseigneur' accordingly; besides, you are my seigneur, and that

is sufficient. If you dislike my calling you 'Monseigneur' before others, allow me, at least, to call you so in

Colbert raised his head to the height of the lamps, and read, or tried to read, upon Vanel's face how much

actual sincerity entered into this protestation of devotion. But the counsellor knew perfectly well how to

sustain the weight of his look, even were it armed with the full authority of the title he had conferred. Colbert

sighed. He had read nothing in Vanel's face; Vanel might be sincere. Colbert recollected that this man,

inferior to himself, was superior to him in having an unfaithful wife. At the moment he was pitying this man's

lot, Vanel coolly drew from his pocket a perfumed letter, sealed with Spanish wax, and held it towards

Colbert coughed, took, opened, and read the letter, and then put it carefully away in his pocket; while Vanel,

"Impossible! A counsellor need not work more than three hours a day in the parliament."

"Oh! I am working up some returns for a friend of mine in the department of accounts; and as I still have time

"There is one, certainly; but one need be the King himself to be able to buy it without inconvenience; and the

King will not be inclined, I suppose, to purchase the post of procureurgeneral."

At these words Vanel fixed his dull and humble look upon Colbert, who could hardly tell whether Vanel had

comprehended him or not. "Why do you speak to me, Monseigneur," said Vanel, "of the post of

procureurgeneral to the parliament? I know no other post than the one M. Fouquet fills."

"You are not overfastidious, Monseigneur, but before the post can be bought, it must be offered for sale."

"The post which renders him inviolable, for sale! Oh, oh!" said Vanel, beginning to laugh.

"You are laughing at me, Monseigneur," replied Vanel; "is it likely that a counsellor of the parliament would

"I cannot help repeating, Monseigneur, that it is impossible; a man never throws away the buckler behind

"There are certain men mad enough, Vanel, to fancy themselves out of the reach of all mischances."

"Yes, Monseigneur; but such men never commit their mad acts for the advantage of the poor Vanels of the

"It is true that M. Fouquet's post might cost a good round sum. What would you bid for it, M. Vanel?"

"A million and a half, at the very lowest. I know persons who have offered seventeen hundred thousand

livres, without being able to persuade M. Fouquet to sell. Besides, supposing it were to happen that M.

Fouquet wished to sell, which I do not believe, in spite of what I have been told"

"I could not buy it just yet, since the superintendent will only sell for ready money, and no one has a million

Colbert suddenly interrupted the counsellor by an imperious gesture; he had begun to meditate. Observing his

superior's serious attitude, and his perseverance in continuing the conversation on this subject, Vanel awaited

"Explain fully to me," said Colbert, at length, "the privileges of the office of procureurgeneral."

"The right of impeaching every French subject who is not a Prince of the blood; the right of quashing all

proceedings taken against any Frenchman who is neither King nor Prince. The procureurgeneral is the arm

of the King to strike the evildoer, his arm also to extinguish the torch of justice. M. Fouquet, therefore, will

be able, by stirring up the parliament, to maintain himself even against the King; and the King also, by

humoring M. Fouquet, can get his edicts registered without opposition. The procureurgeneral can be a very

"Vanel, would you like to be procureurgeneral?" said Colbert, suddenly, softening both his look and his

"I!" exclaimed the latter; "I have already had the honor to represent to you that I want about eleven hundred

"I think so, and that is quite enough; and if it should be needed, I will be your security."

Vanel rose, quite bewildered by this offer, which had been so suddenly and unexpectedly made to him by a

man who treated the smallest affairs in a serious spirit. "You are not trifling with me, Monseigneur?" he said.

"Stay! we must act quickly. You say that M. Gourville has spoken to you about M. Fouquet's post?"

"These were their words: 'These parliamentary people are ambitious and wealthy; they ought to get together

two or three millions among themselves, to present to their protector and great luminary, M. Fouquet.'"

"No; but M. Fouquet is our chief. He is in debt, is on the highroad to ruin; and we ought to save the honor

"This explains to me why M. Fouquet will be always safe and sound so long as he occupies his present post,"

"Thereupon," said Vanel, "M. Gourville added: 'If we were to do anything out of charity to M. Fouquet, it

could not be otherwise than most humiliating to him; and he would be sure to refuse it. Let the parliament

subscribe among themselves to purchase in a proper manner the post of procureurgeneral. In that case all

would go on well; the honor of our body would be saved, and M. Fouquet's pride spared.'"

"Well, M. Vanel, you will go at once, and find out either M. Gourville or M. Pellisson. Do you know any

"Yes; he used to write verses to my wife, when M. Fouquet was one of our friends."

"On the day and hour when you arrange to settle the matter, M. Vanel, you shall be supplied with the money;

"Monseigneur, such munificence! You eclipse kings even, you surpass M. Fouquet himself."

"Stay a moment! Do not let us mistake each other. I do not make you a present of fourteen hundred thousand

livres, M. Vanel, for I have children to provide for; but I will lend you that sum."

"Ask whatever interest, whatever security you please, Monseigneur; I am quite ready. And when all your

requisitions are satisfied, I will still repeat that you surpass kings and M. Fouquet in munificence. What

"Wait a moment! I reserve to myself the right of purchasing the post from you at one hundred and fifty

thousand livres' profit for yourself, if in your mode of filling the office you do not follow out a line of

"Is there anything in that which can possibly be objectionable to you, M. Vanel?" said Colbert, coldly.

"Very good. We will sign an agreement to that effect whenever you like. And now go as quickly as you can

to M. Fouquet's friends, and obtain an interview with the superintendent. Do not be too difficult in making

whatever concessions may be required of you; and when once the arrangements are all made"

"Be most careful to do nothing of the kind; do not speak of signatures with M. Fouquet, nor of deeds, nor

even ask him to pass his word. Understand this, otherwise you will lose everything. All you have to do is to

THE QueenMother was in her bedroom at the PalaisRoyal, with Madame de Motteville and the Senora

Molina. The King, who had been impatiently expected the whole day, had not made his appearance; and the

Queen, who had grown quite impatient, had often sent to inquire about him. The whole atmosphere of the

court seemed to indicate an approaching storm; the courtiers and the ladies of the court avoided meeting in

the antechambers and the corridors, in order not to converse on compromising subjects.

Monsieur had joined the King early in the morning for a huntingparty; Madame remained in her own

apartments, cool and distant to every one; and the QueenMother, after she had said her prayers in Latin,

talked of domestic matters with her two friends in pure Castilian. Madame de Motteville, who understood the

language perfectly, answered her in French. When the three ladies had exhausted every form of dissimulation

and politeness to reach at last the charge that the King's conduct was causing grief to the Queen and the

QueenMother and all his family, and when in guarded phrases they had fulminated every variety of

imprecation against Mademoiselle de la Valliere, the QueenMother terminated these recriminations by an

exclamation indicative of her own reflections and character. "Estos hijos!" said she to Molina (which means,

"These children!" words full of meaning on a mother's lips, words full of terrible significance in the mouth

of a Queen who, like Anne of Austria, hid many curious and dark secrets in her soul).

"Yes," said Molina, "these children! for whom every mother becomes a sacrifice."

Anne did not finish her phrase; for she fancied, when she raised her eyes towards the fulllength portrait of

the pale Louis XIII, that light had once more flashed from her husband's dull eyes, and that his nostrils were

inflated by wrath. The portrait became a living being; it did not speak, it threatened.

A profound silence succeeded the Queen's last remark. La Molina began to turn over the ribbons and lace of a

large worktable. Madame de Motteville, surprised at the look of mutual intelligence which had been

exchanged between the confidante and her mistress, cast down her eyes like a discreet woman, and

pretending to be observant of nothing that was passing listened with the utmost attention. She heard nothing,

however, but a very significant "Hum!" on the part of the Spanish duenna, who was the image of

circumspection, and a profound sigh on the part of the Queen. She looked up immediately. "You are

"A very fine disorder, indeed!" said the Queen. "M. Vallot is wrong in being there, when another physician

Madame de Motteville looked up with an air of great surprise, as she replied, "Another doctor instead of M.

"Occupation, Motteville, occupation! Ah! if any one is really ill, it is my poor daughter."

As if to justify the caution, a sharp pain seized the Queen, who turned deadly pale, and threw herself back in

the chair, with every symptom of a sudden faintingfit. "My drops!" she murmured.

"Ah! ah!" replied Molina, who went without haste to a richly gilded tortoiseshell cabinet, from which she

took a large rockcrystal smellingbottle, and brought it, open, to the Queen, who inhaled from it wildly

several times, and murmured, "In that way the Lord will kill me; His holy will be done!"

"Your Majesty's death is not so near at hand," added Molina, replacing the smellingbottle in the cabinet.

"Much better," returned the Queen, placing her finger on her lips, to impose silence on her favorite.

"Does your Majesty remember the day when this pain attacked you for the first time?"

"Because twentythree years before, on that very day, his present Majesty, your own glorious son, was born

The Queen uttered a loud cry, buried her face in her hands, and seemed utterly lost for some moments. Was it

remembrance or reflection, or was it grief? La Molina darted a look at Madame de Motteville almost furious

in its reproachfulness. The poor woman, ignorant of its meaning, was about to make inquiries in her own

defence, when suddenly Anne of Austria arose and said: "Yes, the 5th of September; my sorrow began on the

5th of September. The greatest joy, one day; the deepest sorrow, the next, the sorrow," she added in a low

And from that moment Anne of Austria, whose memory and reason seemed to have become entirely

suspended for a time, remained impenetrable, with vacant look, mind almost wandering, and hands hanging

Madame de Motteville rose. Large and glistening tears were fast rolling down the Queen's pallid face; and

Molina, having observed this sign of weakness, fixed her vigilant black eyes upon her.

The word "us" produced a disagreeable effect upon the ears of the French favorite; for it signified that an

interchange of secrets or of revelations of the past was about to be made, and that one person was de trop in

Madame de Motteville bowed in submission, and was about to withdraw, when suddenly an old female

attendant, dressed as if she had belonged to the Spanish Court of the year 1620, opened the door and

surprised the Queen in her tears, Madame de Motteville in her skilful retreat, and Molina in her strategy. "The

remedy!" she cried delightedly to the Queen, as she unceremoniously approached the group.

"It is needless," suddenly replied a voice, at once firm and gentle in its tone, which proceeded from the other

side of the tapestry hangings, a voice which startled the attendants and made the Queen tremble. At the

same moment a woman, masked, appeared between the curtains, and before the Queen could speak, added, "I

am connected with the order of the Beguines of Bruges, and do indeed bring with me the remedy which is

Anne of Austria looked at her attendants, who immediately withdrew. The Beguine thereupon advanced a

few steps towards the Queen, and bowed reverently before her. The Queen gazed with increasing mistrust at

this woman, who in her turn fixed a pair of brilliant eyes upon the Queen through openings in the mask.

"The Queen of France must indeed be very ill," said Anne of Austria, "if it is known at the Beguinage of

"Impossible, Madame, since your Majesty's memory has not been awakened by your heart."

Anne of Austria looked up, endeavoring to discover through the concealment of the mask and through her

mysterious language the name of this person who expressed herself with such familiarity and freedom; then

suddenly, wearied by a curiosity at odds with her pride, she said, "You are ignorant, perhaps, that royal

"I cannot excuse you; I will not forgive you if you do not throw your mask aside."

"I have made a vow, Madame, to go to the help of those who are afflicted or suffering, without ever

permitting them to behold my face. I might have been able to administer some relief to your body and to your

mind; but since your Majesty forbids me, I will take my leave. Adieu, Madame, adieu!"

These words were uttered with a harmony of tone and respect of manner that destroyed the Queen's anger and

suspicion, but did not remove her feeling of curiosity. "You are right," she said; "it ill becomes those who are

suffering to reject the means of relief which Heaven sends them. Speak, then; and may you indeed be able, as

you assert you are, to administer relief to my body. Alas! I think that God is about to make it suffer."

"Let us first speak a little of the mind, if you please," said the Beguine, "of the mind, which I am sure must

"There are cancers so insidious in their nature that their very pulsation is invisible. Such cancers, Madame,

leave the ivory whiteness of the skin untouched, and marble not the firm, fair flesh with their blue tints; the

physician who bends over the patient's chest hears not, though he listens, the insatiable teeth of the disease

grinding its onward progress through the muscles, as the blood flows freely on; neither iron nor fire has ever

destroyed or disarmed the rage of these mortal scourges; their home is in the mind, which they corrupt; they

grow in the heart until it breaks. Such, Madame, are these other cancers, fatal to queens: are you free from

Anne slowly raised her arm, as dazzling in its perfect whiteness and as pure in its rounded outlines as it was

in the time of her earlier days. "The evils to which you allude," she said, "are the condition of the lives of the

high in rank upon earth, to whom Heaven has imparted mind. When those evils become too heavy to be

borne, the Lord lightens their burden by penitence and confession. Thus we lay down our burden, and the

secrets which oppress us. But forget not that the same sovereign Lord apportions their trials to the strength of

his creatures; and my strength is not inferior to my burden. For the secrets of others I have enough of the

"I find you, Madame, as courageous as ever against your enemies; I do not find you showing confidence in

"Queens have no friends. If you have nothing further to say to me, if you feel yourself inspired by Heaven as

"I should have supposed," said the Beguine, resolutely, "that you would dread the past even more."

Hardly had these words escaped the Beguine's lips, when the Queen rose proudly. "Speak!" she cried, in a

short, imperious tone of voice; "explain yourself briefly, quickly, entirely; or else"

"Nay, do not threaten me, your Majesty!" said the Beguine, gently. "I have come to you full of compassion

"Easily enough; and your Majesty will see who is friendly to you. What misfortune has happened to your

"I speak not of misfortunes of that kind. I wish to ask you if, since the birth of the King, any indiscretion

"I do not understand you," replied the Queen, setting her teeth hard together in order to conceal her emotion.

"I will make myself understood, then. Your Majesty remembers that the King was born on the 5th of

"At halfpast twelve," continued the Beguine, "the Dauphin, who had been baptized by Monseigneur de

Meaux in the King's and in your own presence, was acknowledged as the heir of the crown of France. The

King then went to the chapel of the old Chateau de St. Germain to hear the Te Deum chanted."

"Your Majesty's confinement took place in the presence of Monsieur, his Majesty's late uncle, of the princes,

and of the ladies attached to the court. The King's physician, Bouvard, and Honore, the surgeon, were

stationed in the antechamber; your Majesty slept from three o'clock until seven, I believe?"

"Yes, yes; but you tell me no more than every one else knows as well as you and myself."

"I am now, Madame, approaching that with which very few persons are acquainted. Very few persons, did I

say? Alas! I might say two only; for formerly there were but five in all, and for many years past the secret has

been assured by the deaths of the principal participators in it. The late King sleeps now with his ancestors;

The Queen opened her lips as though about to reply; she felt beneath her icy hand, with which she touched

"It was eight o'clock," pursued the Beguine. "The King was seated at supper, full of joy and happiness;

around him on all sides arose wild cries of delight and drinking of healths; the people cheered beneath the

balconies; the Swiss Guards, the Musketeers, and the Royal Guard wandered through the city, borne about in

triumph by the drunken students. Those boisterous sounds of the general joy disturbed the Dauphin, the

future King of France, who was quietly lying in the arms of Madame de Hausac, his nurse, and whose eyes,

when he should open them, might have observed two crowns at the foot of his cradle. Suddenly your Majesty

"The doctors were dining in a room at some distance from your chamber; the palace, abandoned in the

general confusion, was without either sentinels or guards. The midwife, having questioned and examined

your Majesty, gave a sudden exclamation of surprise, and taking you in her arms, bewildered, almost out of

her senses from sheer distress of mind, despatched Laporte to inform the King that her Majesty the Queen

"Laporte, you are aware, Madame, was a man of the most admirable calmness and presence of mind. He did

not approach the King as if he were the bearer of alarming intelligence and, feeling his importance, wished to

inspire the terror which he himself experienced; besides, it was not a very terrifying intelligence which

awaited the King. At any rate, Laporte, with a smile upon his lips, approached the King's chair, saying to him,

'Sire, the Queen is very happy, and would be still more so to see your Majesty.'

"On that day Louis XIII would have given his crown away to the veriest beggar for a 'God bless you.'

Animated, lighthearted, and full of gayety, the King rose from the table, and said to those around him, in a

tone that Henry IV might have used, 'Gentlemen, I am going to see my wife.' He came to your bedside,

Madame, at the very moment when Dame Peronne presented to him a second Prince, as beautiful and healthy

as the former, and said, 'Sire, Heaven will not allow the kingdom of France to fall into the female line.' The

King, yielding to a first impulse, clasped the child in his arms, and cried, 'Oh, Heaven, I thank thee!'"

At this part of her recital the Beguine paused, observing how intensely the Queen was suffering. She had

thrown herself back in her chair, and with her head bent forward and her eyes fixed, listened without seeming

to hear, and her lips moved convulsively, breathing either a prayer to Heaven or imprecations against the

"Ah! do not believe that if there has been but one Dauphin in France," exclaimed the Beguine, "if the Queen

allowed the second child to vegetate far from the throne, do not believe that she was an unfeeling mother.

Oh, no, no! There are those who know the floods of bitter tears she shed; there are those who have known and

witnessed the passionate kisses she imprinted on that innocent creature in exchange for the life of misery and

"It is known," continued the Beguine, quickly, "that when the King perceived the effect which would result

from the existence of two sons, both equal in age and pretensions, he trembled for the welfare of France, for

the tranquillity of the State. It is known that the Cardinal de Richelieu, by the direction of Louis XIII, thought

over the subject with deep attention, and after an hour's meditation in his Majesty's cabinet pronounced the

following sentence: 'A King is born, to succeed his Majesty. God has sent another, to succeed the first; but at

present we need only the firstborn. Let us conceal the second from France, as God has concealed him from

his parents themselves. One Prince is peace and safety for the State; two competitors are civil war and

The Queen rose suddenly from her seat, pale as death, her hands clinched together. "You know too much,"

she said in a hoarse, thick voice, "since you refer to secrets of State. As for the friends from whom you have

acquired this secret, they are false and treacherous. You are their accomplice in the crime which is now

committed. Now, throw aside your mask, or I will have you arrested by my captain of the Guards. Do not

think that this secret terrifies me! You have obtained it; you shall restore it to me. It will freeze in your

Anne of Austria, joining gesture to the threat, advanced two steps towards the Beguine. "Learn," said the

latter, "to know and value the fidelity, the honor, and the secrecy of the friends you have abandoned." She

"Ah," murmured Anne of Austria, "come and embrace me, Duchess! Alas! you kill your friend in thus trifling

The Queen, leaning her head upon the shoulder of the old duchess, burst into a flood of bitter tears. "How

THE Queen looked steadily at Madame de Chevreuse, and said: "I believe you just now made use of the word

'happy' in speaking of me. Hitherto, Duchess, I had thought it impossible that a human creature could

"Your afflictions, Madame, have indeed been terrible enough; but by the side of those illustrious misfortunes

to which we, two old friends separated by men's malice, were just now alluding, you possess sources of

pleasure, slight enough in themselves it may be, but which are greatly envied by the world."

"What are they?" said Anne of Austria, bitterly. "How can you use the word 'pleasure,' Duchess, you who

Madame de Chevreuse collected herself for a moment, and then murmured, "How far removed Kings are

"I mean that they are so far removed from the vulgar herd that they forget that others ever stand in need of the

bare necessaries of life. They are like the inhabitant of the African mountain who gazing from the verdant

tableland, refreshed by the rills of melted snow, cannot comprehend that the dwellers in the plains below

him are perishing from hunger and thirst in the midst of their lands burned up by the heat of the sun."

The Queen slightly colored, for she now began to perceive the drift of her friend's remark. "It was very

"Oh, Madame, the King has inherited, it is said, the hatred his father bore me. The King would dismiss me if

"I cannot say that the King is very well disposed towards you, Duchess," replied the Queen; "but I could

secretly, you know" The duchess's disdainful smile produced a feeling of uneasiness in the Queen's mind.

"Even were it only to give us the happiness of contradicting the report of your death."

"Ah! you know, Duchess, the court is very frequently moving about from place to place; we see the

gentlemen of Albert de Luynes but seldom, and many things escape our minds in the midst of the

"Why not? Alas! we are all mortal; and you may perceive how rapidly I your younger sister, as we used

"If your Majesty had believed me dead, you ought to have been astonished not to have received any

"Oh, your Majesty, those who are burdened with secrets such as we have just now discussed have always an

urgent desire to divulge them, which they must gratify before they die. Among the preparations for eternity is

the task of putting one's papers in order." The Queen started. "Your Majesty will be sure to learn in a

"Because your Majesty will receive the next day, under several coverings, everything connected with our

"Yes, certainly; or rather they pretend to destroy, and keep or sell it. The faithful, on the contrary, most

carefully secrete such treasures; for it may happen that some day or other they will wish to seek out their

Queen in order to say to her: 'Madame, I am getting old; my health is fast failing me. For me there is danger

of death; for your Majesty, the danger that this secret may be revealed. Take, therefore, this dangerous paper,

"So far as I am concerned, I have but one, it is true; but that is indeed most dangerous in its nature."

"A letter dated Tuesday, the 2d of August, 1644, in which you beg me to go to NoisyleSec to see that

unhappy child. In your own handwriting, Madame, there are those words, 'that unhappy child!'"

A profound silence ensued. The Queen's mind was wandering in the past; Madame de Chevreuse was

watching the progress of her scheme. "Yes unhappy, most unhappy!" murmured Anne of Austria; "how sad

"Is he dead?" cried the duchess, suddenly, with a curiosity whose sincere accents the Queen instinctively

"He died of consumption, died forgotten, died withered and blighted like the flowers a lover has given to his

mistress, which she leaves to die secreted in a drawer where she has hidden them from the world."

"Died?" repeated the duchess, with an air of discouragement which would have afforded the Queen the most

unfeigned delight had it not been tempered in some measure by a mixture of doubt. "Died at

"Yes, in the arms of his tutor, a poor, honest man who did not long survive him."

"That can be easily understood. It is so difficult to bear up under the weight of such a loss and such a secret,"

said Madame de Chevreuse, the irony of which reflection the Queen pretended not to perceive. Madame de

Chevreuse continued: "Well, Madame, I inquired some years ago at NoisyleSec about this unhappy child. I

was told that it was not believed he was dead; and that was my reason for not at once condoling with your

Majesty. Oh, certainly, if I had believed it, never should the slightest allusion to so deplorable an event have

"They said that one evening about the year 1645 a lady, beautiful and majestic in her bearing, which was

observed notwithstanding the mask and the mantle which concealed her figure, a lady of rank, of very high

rank no doubt, came in a carriage to the place where the road branches off, the very same spot, you know,

where I awaited news of the young Prince when your Majesty was pleased to send me there."

"That both the child and his tutor left that part of the country the very next day."

"There! you see there is some truth in what you relate, since in point of fact the poor child died from a sudden

attack of illness, which up to the age of seven years makes the lives of all children, as doctors say, suspended

"What your Majesty says is quite true. No one knows it better than you; no one believes it more than myself.

"The person who gave me these details, who had been sent to inquire after the child's health"

"Some one as dumb as your Majesty, as dumb as myself; we will suppose it was myself, Madame. This 'some

"Recognized both the tutor and the child too! I am wrong; he thought he recognized them, both living,

cheerful, happy, and flourishing, the one in a green old age, the other in the flower of his youth. Judge, after

that, what truth can be attributed to the rumors which are circulated, or what faith, after that, can be placed in

anything that may happen in the world. But I am fatiguing your Majesty; it was not my intention, however, to

do so; and I will take my leave of you, after renewing to you the assurance of my most respectful devotion."

"Why not, indeed? Are you not the oldest friend I have? Are you angry with me, Duchess?"

"I, indeed! What motive could I have? If I had reason to be angry with your Majesty, should I have come

"Duchess, age is fast creeping on us both; we should be united against that death whose approach threatens

"Oh, I know you well, no one is more disinterested, more noble, more truly royal."

"So much the better; for the beautiful, the haughty, the adored duchess of former days might have answered

me ungratefully, 'I do not wish for anything from you.' Blessed be misfortunes, if they have come to you,

since they will have changed you, and you will now perhaps answer me, 'I accept.'"

The duchess's look and smile became more gentle; she was under the charm, and no longer concealed her

"Well, then, your Majesty can confer on me a pleasure unspeakable, a pleasure incomparable."

"What is it?" said the Queen, a little distant in her manner, from an uneasiness of feeling produced by this

remark. "But do not forget, my good Chevreuse, that I am quite as much under my son's influence as I was

"Here it is: Will your Majesty do me the honor to pass a few days with me at Dampierre?"

"Good Heavens! Can you possibly imagine that in asking you that, I am not asking you the greatest

conceivable favor? If that really be the case, you do not know me. Will you accept?"

"Yes, gladly. And I shall be happy," continued the Queen, with some suspicion, "if my presence can in any

"Useful," exclaimed the duchess, laughing, "oh, no, no! agreeable, delicious, delightful, yes, a thousand

"I swear it," said the Queen, whereupon the Duchess seized her beautiful hand and covered it with kisses. The

Queen could not help murmuring to herself, "She is a goodhearted woman, and very generous too."

"Because," said the duchess, "knowing me to be in disgrace, no one would lend me the hundred thousand

crowns which I require to put Dampierre in a state of repair. But when it is known that I require that sum for

the purpose of receiving your Majesty at Dampierre properly, all the money in Paris will be at my disposal."

"Ah!" said the Queen, gently nodding her head with an air of intelligence, "a hundred thousand crowns! you

"You would be wrong if you did not. Besides, a hundred thousand crowns is really not much. I know but too

well that your discreetness has never been properly acknowledged. Push that table a little towards me,

Duchess, and I will write you an order on M. Colbert, no, on M. Fouquet, who is a far more courteous and

"If he will not pay it, I will; but it will be the first time he will have refused me."

The Queen wrote and handed the duchess the order, and afterwards dismissed her with a warm and cheerful

ALL these intrigues are exhausted; the human mind, so complicated in its exhibitions, has developed itself

freely in the three outlines which our recital has afforded. It is not unlikely that in the future we are now

preparing, politics and intrigues may still appear; but the springs by which they work will be so carefully

concealed that no one will be able to see aught but flowers and paintings, just as at a theatre, where a

Colossus appears upon the scene walking along moved by the small legs and slender arms of a child

We now return to St. Mande, where the superintendent was in the habit of receiving his select society of

epicureans. For some time past the host had been severely tried. Every one in the house was aware of and felt

the minister's distress. No more magnificent and recklessly improvident reunions! Finance had been the

pretext assigned by Fouquet; and never was any pretext, as Gourville wittily said, more fallacious, for there

M. Vatel was most resolutely painstaking in keeping up the reputation of the house, and yet the gardeners

who supplied the kitchens complained of a ruinous delay. The agents for the supply of Spanish wines

frequently sent drafts which no one honored; fishermen, whom the superintendent engaged on the coast of

Normandy, calculated that if they were paid all that was due to them, the amount would enable them to retire

comfortably for the rest of their lives; fish, which at a later period was to be the cause of Vatel's death, did not

arrive at all. However, on the ordinary day of reception, Fouquet's friends flocked in more numerously than

ever. Gourville and the Abbe Fouquet talked over money matters, that is to say, the abbe borrowed a few

pistoles from Gourville. Pellisson, seated with his legs crossed, was engaged in finishing the peroration of a

speech with which Fouquet was to open the parliament; and this speech was a masterpiece, because Pellisson

wrote it for his friend, that is to say, he inserted everything in it which the latter would most certainly never

have taken the trouble to say of his own accord. Presently Loret and La Fontaine would enter from the

garden, engaged in a dispute upon the facility of making verses. The painters and musicians, in their turn,

also were hovering near the diningroom. As soon as eight o'clock struck, the supper would be announced;

for the superintendent never kept any one waiting. It was already halfpast seven, and the guests were in

As soon as all the guests were assembled, Gourville went straight up to Pellisson, awoke him out of his

reverie, and led him into the middle of a room the doors of which he had closed.

Pellisson raised his intelligent and gentle face, and said, "I have borrowed twentyfive thousand livres of my

"Good!" replied Gourville; "we want only one hundred and ninetyfive thousand livres for the first

"What! absentminded as usual? Why, it was you who told us that the small estate at Corbeil was going to be

sold by one of M. Fouquet's creditors; and you, also, who proposed that all his friends should subscribe. More

than that, too, it was you who said that you would sell a corner of your house at ChateauThierry in order to

furnish your own proportion; and now you come and ask, 'The payment of what?'" This remark was received

with a general laugh, which made La Fontaine blush. "I beg your pardon," he said, "I had not forgotten it,

"That is the truth; and the fact is, he is quite right. There is a great difference between forgetting and not

"Well, then," added Pellisson, "you bring your mite in the shape of the price of the piece of land you have

"And have you not sold the field, then?" inquired Gourville, in astonishment, for he knew the poet's

"My wife would not let me," replied the latter, at which there were fresh bursts of laughter.

"My wife had been flirting with the man to whom I wished to sell the land. The fellow drew back from his

"No; my wife and her relations interfered in the matter. I was kept a quarter of an hour with my sword in my

"Capital!" cried his friends, from all sides; "you must have been terribly angry."

"Exceedingly so; I had caught cold. I returned home, and then my wife began to quarrel with me."

"Oh! I upset the table over her and her guests; and then I got upon my horse again, and here I am."

Every one had great difficulty in keeping his countenance at the relation of this tragic comedy; and when the

laughter had somewhat ceased, one of the guests present said to him, "Is that all you have brought us back?"

"Have you noticed that there is a good deal of sportive, jesting poetry written in France?"

"That may be; but a rare article is a dear article, and that is the reason why I have written a small poem

"Yes," continued the poet, with cold indifference; "I have introduced in it the greatest freedom of language I

Peals of laughter again broke forth, while the poet was thus announcing the quality of his wares. "And," he

continued, "I have tried to exceed everything that Boccaccio, Aretino and other masters of their craft have

"Do you think so?" said La Fontaine, simply. "I assure you, I did not do it on my own account so much as on

"And I have sold the first edition of this little book for eight hundred livres," exclaimed La Fontaine, rubbing

"It would have been better," said Gourville, laughing, "to have written two religious books instead!"

"It would have been too long, and not amusing enough," replied La Fontaine, tranquilly. "My eight hundred

As he said this, he placed his offering in the hands of their treasurer. It was then Loret's turn, who gave a

hundred and fifty livres. The others stripped themselves in the same way; and the total sum in the purse

amounted to forty thousand livres. Never did more generous coins rattle in the divine balances in which

charity weighs good hearts and good intentions against the counterfeit coin of devout hypocrites.

The money was still being counted over when the superintendent noiselessly entered the room. He had heard

everything. This man, who had possessed so many millions, who had exhausted all pleasures and all honors,

this generous heart, this inexhaustible brain, Fouquet, who had, like two burning crucibles, devoured the

material and moral substance of the first kingdom in the world, crossed the threshold with his eyes filled with

tears, and passed his white and slender fingers through the gold and silver. "Poor offering," he said, in a tone

tender and filled with emotion, "you will disappear in the smallest corner of my empty purse; but you have

filled to overflowing that which nothing can ever exhaust, my heart. Thank you, my friends, thank you!"

And as he could not embrace everyone present, all were weeping a little, philosophers though they were,

he embraced La Fontaine, saying to him, "Poor fellow! so you have on my account been beaten by your wife

"Oh, it is a mere nothing!" replied the poet. "If your creditors will only wait a couple of years, I shall have

written a hundred other tales, which at two editions each will pay off the debt."

FOUQUET pressed La Fontaine's hand most warmly, saying to him, "My dear poet, write a hundred other

tales, not only for the eighty pistoles which each of them will produce you, but still more to enrich our

"Oh! oh!" said La Fontaine, with a little air of pride, "you must not suppose that I have brought only this idea

"Oh! indeed!" was the general acclamation from all parts of the room; "M. de la Fontaine is in funds today."

"Heaven bless the idea, if it brings me one or two millions," said Fouquet, gayly.

"Take care!" said Pellisson in La Fontaine's ear. "You have had a most brilliant success up to the present

"Not at all, M. Pellisson; and you, who are a man of taste, will be the first to approve of what I have done."

"I have fifteen hundred thousand livres here, M. Gourville," he replied, striking himself on the chest.

"Stay a moment, Monsieur the Superintendent!" added La Fontaine; "you are not procureurgeneral, you

"True, true!" cried Loret, Conrart, and every person present connected with literature.

"You are, I repeat, a poet and a painter, a sculptor, a friend of the arts and sciences; but acknowledge that you

"Very good; if therefore you do not wish to belong to the Academy, why do you allow yourself to form one

"I wish to know," persisted La Fontaine, "whether the barrister's gown does or does not become M. Fouquet."

"There is no question of the gown at all," retorted Pellisson, annoyed at the laughter of the company.

"Take the gown away from the procureurgeneral," said Conrart, "and we have M. Fouquet left us still, of

whom we have no reason to complain; but as he is no procureurgeneral without his gown, we agree with M.

"Because the hare will be the very one who will not be overpleased to see M. Fouquet retaining the elements

"Quo non ascendam," said Conrart, "would seem to me impossible with a procureur's gown."

"And it seems so to me without that gown," said the obstinate Pellisson. "What is your opinion, Gourville?"

"I think the gown in question is a very good thing," replied the latter; "but I equally think that a million and a

"And I am of Gourville's opinion," exclaimed Fouquet, stopping the discussion by the expression of his own

"A million and a half!" Pellisson grumbled out. "Now I happen to know an Indian fable"

"There was a tortoise which was as usual well protected by its shell," said Pellisson. "Whenever its enemies

threatened it, it took refuge within its covering. One day some one said to it, 'You must feel very hot in such a

house as that in the summer, and you are altogether prevented from showing off your graces; here is a snake

"Well, what next?" said La Fontaine, much more interested in the apologue than in its moral.

"The tortoise sold his shell, and remained naked and defenceless. A vulture happened to see him, and being

hungry broke the tortoise's back with a blow of his beak and devoured it. The moral is that M. Fouquet should

La Fontaine understood the moral seriously. "You forget AEschylus," he said to his adversary.

"AEschylus was baldheaded; and a vulture your vulture probably who was a great lover of tortoises

mistook at a distance his head for a block of stone, and let a tortoise which was shrunk up in his shell fall

"Yes, yes, La Fontaine is right," resumed Fouquet, who had become very thoughtful. "Whenever a vulture

wishes to devour a tortoise, he well knows how to break his shell; and but too happy is that tortoise to which

a snake pays a million and a half for his envelope. If any one were to bring me a generoushearted snake like

"And like a black swan, is he not?" added La Fontaine; "well, then, the bird in question, black and very rare,

"Do you mean to say that you have found a purchaser for my post of procureurgeneral?" exclaimed

"But the superintendent has never said that he wished to sell," resumed Pellisson.

"He seems very tenacious about his brilliant idea," said Fouquet, laughing. "Well, La Fontaine, who is the

"A perfect black bird, a counsellor belonging to the parliament, an excellent fellow."

"Poor fellow!" said Fouquet, with an expression of great interest; "he wishes to be procureurgeneral?"

"He wishes to be everything that you have been, Monsieur," said Gourville, "and to do everything that you

"It is very simple. I see him occasionally; and a short time ago I met him walking about on the Place de la

Bastille, at the very moment when I was about to take the small carriage to come down here to St. Mande."

"Oh, no!" said La Fontaine; "he is far from being jealous. He accosted me, embraced me, and took me to the

"That some one had spoken to him about a post in parliament; that M. Fouquet's name had been mentioned;

that ever since, Madame Vanel dreams of nothing else but being called Madame the ProcureuseGenerale,

"Wait a moment! Conrart is always telling me that I do not know how to conduct matters of business; you

"'I suppose you know' said I to Vanel, 'that the value of a post such as that which M. Fouquet holds is by no

means trifling.' 'How much do you imagine it to be?' he said. 'M. Fouquet, I know, has refused seventeen

hundred thousand livres.' 'My wife,' replied Vanel, 'had estimated it at about fourteen hundred thousand.'

'Ready money?' I asked. 'Yes; she has sold some property of hers in Guienne, and has received the

"That's a pretty sum to touch all at once," said the Abbe Fouquet, who had not hitherto said a word.

"That may be; it would be delightful to make use of this fiend's money to repair the injury which an angel has

Pellisson looked with a surprised air at Fouquet, whose thoughts were from that moment fixed upon a fresh

"Yes," said Gourville; "but there are some persons who are anxious to have the steed who have not money

"And Vanel would draw back from his offer if he were to be taken at his word," continued the Abbe Fouquet.

"Semper ad adventum. Is that correct?" said Fouquet, with the air of a nobleman who condescends to

"My denouement," cried La Fontaine, "is that Vanel, that determined black bird, knowing that I was coming

to St. Mande, implored me to bring him with me, and, if possible, to present him to M. Fouquet."

"So that he is here; I left him in that part of the grounds called BelAir. Well, M. Fouquet, what is your

"Well, it is not fitting that the husband of Madame Vanel should catch cold on my grounds. Send for him, La

"No jesting," said Fouquet, seriously; "let the business be a serious one if it is to be one at all. But, first of all,

let us be hospitable. Make my apologies, La Fontaine, to that gentleman, and tell him that I am distressed to

La Fontaine set off at once, fortunately accompanied by Gourville; for absorbed in his own calculations, the

poet would have mistaken the route, and was hurrying as fast as he could towards the village of St. Maur.

Within a quarter of an hour afterwards M. Vanel was introduced into the superintendent's cabinet, the

description and details of which have already been given at the beginning of this history. When Fouquet saw

him enter, he called Pellisson, and whispered a few words in his ear: "Do not lose a word of what I am going

to say. Let all the silver and gold plate, together with the jewels of every description, be packed up in the

carriage. You will take the black horses; the jeweller will accompany you; and you will postpone the supper

Pellisson set off, not quite clear as to his friend's meaning or intention, but confident, like every true friend, in

the judgment of the man he was blindly obeying. It is that which constitutes the strength of such men; distrust

"Be seated, Monsieur!" said Fouquet, politely. "I am told that you wish to purchase a post I hold. How much

"It is for you, Monseigneur, to fix the price. I know that offers of purchase have already been made to you for

"Madame Vanel, I have been told, values it at fourteen hundred thousand livres."

"I have not the money with me," said Vanel, frightened almost by the unpretending simplicity, amounting to

greatness, of the man; for he had expected disputes and difficulties, and opposition of every kind.

"Whenever you please, Monseigneur"; and he began to be afraid that Fouquet was trifling with him.

"If it were not for the trouble you would have in returning to Paris, I would say at once; but we will arrange

that the payment and the signature shall take place at six o'clock tomorrow morning."

"Adieu, M. Vanel! Present my humblest respects to Madame Vanel," said Fouquet, as he rose; upon which

Vanel, who felt the blood rushing up to his head, for he was quite confounded by his success, said seriously

to the superintendent, "Will you give me your word, Monseigneur, upon this affair?"

Vanel hesitated, trembled all over, and at last finished by hesitatingly holding out his hand. Fouquet opened

and nobly extended his own. This loyal hand lay for a moment in Vanel's moist, hypocritical palm; and he

pressed it in his own, in order the better to convince himself. The superintendent gently disengaged his hand,

as he again said, "Adieu." Vanel then ran hastily to the door, hurried along the vestibules, and fled.

HARDLY had Fouquet dismissed Vanel than he began to reflect for a few moments: "A man never can do

too much for the woman he has once loved. Marguerite wishes to be the wife of a procureurgeneral, and

why not confer this pleasure upon her? And now that the most scrupulous and sensitive conscience will be

unable to reproach me with anything, let my thoughts be bestowed on the woman who loves me. Madame de

Belliere ought to be there by this time"; and he turned towards the secret door.

After Fouquet had locked himself in, he opened the subterranean passage, and rapidly hastened towards the

means of communicating between the house at Vincennes and his own residence. He had neglected to apprise

his friend of his approach by ringing the bell, perfectly assured that she would never fail to be exact at the

rendezvous. In fact, the marchioness had arrived, and was waiting. The noise the superintendent made

aroused her; she ran to take from under the door the letter which he had thrust there, and which simply said,

"Come, Marchioness; we are waiting supper for you." With her heart filled with happiness, Madame de

Belliere ran to her carriage in the Avenue de Vincennes; in a few minutes she was holding out her hand to

Gourville, who was standing at the entrance, where, in order the better to please his master, he had stationed

himself to watch her arrival. She had not observed that Fouquet's black horses had arrived at the same time,

smoking and covered with foam, having returned to St. Mande with Pellisson and the very jeweller to whom

Madame de Belliere had sold her plate and her jewels. Pellisson introduced the goldsmith into the cabinet,

which Fouquet had not yet left. The superintendent thanked him for having been good enough to regard as a

simple deposit in his hands the valuable property which he had had every right to sell. He cast his eyes on the

total of the account, which amounted to thirteen hundred thousand livres. Then, going to his desk, he wrote

an order for fourteen hundred thousand livres, payable at sight, at his treasury, before twelve o'clock the next

"A hundred thousand livres' profit! cried the goldsmith. "Oh, Monseigneur, what generosity!"

"Nay, nay, not so, Monsieur," said Fouquet, touching him on the shoulder; "there are certain kindnesses

which can never be repaid. The profit is about that which you would have made, but the interest of your

money still remains to be arranged"; and saying this, he unfastened from his sleeve a diamond button, which

the goldsmith himself had often valued at three thousand pistoles. "Take this," he said to the goldsmith, "in

"And you, Monseigneur," cried the goldsmith, completely overcome, "are a grand nobleman!"

Fouquet let the worthy goldsmith pass out of the room by a secret door, and then went to receive Madame de

Belliere, who was already surrounded by all the guests. The marchioness was always beautiful, but now her

"Do you not think, gentlemen," said Fouquet, "that Madame is incomparably beautiful this evening? And do

"And yet, all the jewels which Madame is wearing this evening are nothing but false stones."

"Oh! oh!" exclaimed all the guests; "that can very well be said of one who has the finest diamonds in Paris."

"Well, at last I have understood you," returned the latter; "and you have done well."

The crowd of guests hurried more rapidly than is customary at ministerial entertainments towards the

banquetingroom, where a magnificent spectacle presented itself. Upon the buffets, upon the sidetables,

upon the suppertable itself, in the midst of flowers and light, glittered most dazzlingly the richest and most

costly gold and silver plate that was ever seen, relics of those ancient magnificent productions which the

Florentine artists, whom the Medici family had patronized, had sculptured, chased, and cast for the purpose

of holding flowers, at a time when gold yet existed in France. These hidden marvels, which had been buried

during the civil wars, had timidly reappeared during the intervals of that war of good taste called the Fronde,

when noblemen, fighting against noblemen, killed but did not pillage one another. All that plate had Madame

de Belliere's arms engraved upon it. "Look!" cried La Fontaine, "here is a P and a B."

But the most remarkable object present was the cover which Fouquet had assigned to the marchioness. Near

her was a pyramid of diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, antique cameos; sardonyx stones, carved by the old

Greeks of Asia Minor, with mountings of Mysian gold; curious mosaics of ancient Alexandria, mounted in

silver; and massive Egyptian bracelets lay heaped up in a large plate of Palissy ware, supported by a tripod of

gilt bronze which had been sculptured by Benvenuto. The marchioness turned pale as she recognized what

she had never expected to see again. A profound silence seemed to seize upon every one of the restless and

excited guests. Fouquet did not even make a sign in dismissal of the richly liveried servants who crowded

like bees round the huge buffets and other tables in the room. "Gentlemen," he said, "all this plate which you

behold once belonged to Madame de Belliere, who having observed one of her friends in great distress, sent

all this gold and silver, together with the heap of jewels now before her, to her goldsmith. This noble conduct

of a devoted friend can well be understood by such friends as you. Happy, indeed, is that man who sees

himself loved in such a manner! Let us drink to the health of Madame de Belliere."

A tremendous burst of applause followed his words, and made poor Madame de Belliere sink back dumb and

breathless on her seat. "And then," added Pellisson, whom all nobleness aroused and all beauty charmed, "let

us also drink to the health of him who inspired Madame's noble conduct; for such a man is worthy of being

It was now the marchioness's turn. She rose, pale and smiling; and as she held out her glass with a faltering

hand, and her trembling fingers touched those of Fouquet, her look, full of love, found its reflection and

Begun in this manner, the supper soon became a fete. No one sought for wit, because no one was without it.

La Fontaine forgot his Gorgny wine, and allowed Vatel to reconcile him to the wines of the Rhone and those

from the shores of Spain. The Abbe Fouquet became so goodnatured that Gourville said to him, "Take care,

The hours passed away so joyously that, contrary to his usual custom, the superintendent did not leave the

table before the end of the dessert. He smiled upon his friends, delighted as a man is whose heart becomes

intoxicated before his head; and for the first time he looked at the clock. Suddenly a carriage rolled into the

courtyard; and, strange to say, it was heard high above the noise of the mirth which prevailed. Fouquet

listened attentively, and then turned his eyes towards the antechamber. It seemed as if he could hear a step

passing across it, and as if this step, instead of touching the ground, pressed upon his heart. Involuntarily his

foot parted company with the foot which Madame de Belliere had rested on his for two hours.

"M. d'Herblay, Bishop of Vannes!" the usher announced; and Aramis's grave and thoughtful face appeared in

the doorway, between the remains of two garlands, the thread of which the flame of a lamp had just burned.

FOUQUET would have uttered an exclamation of delight on seeing another friend arrive, if the cold air and

constrained appearance of Aramis had not restored all his reserve. "Are you going to join us at our dessert?"

he asked. "And yet you would be frightened, perhaps, at the noise we madcaps are making."

"Monseigneur," replied Aramis, respectfully, "I will begin by begging you to excuse me for having

interrupted this merry meeting; and then I will beg you to give me, after your pleasure, a moment's audience

As the word "business" had aroused the attention of some of the epicureans present, Fouquet rose, saying,

"Business first of all, M. d'Herblay; we are too happy when matters of business arrive only at the end of a

As he said this, Fouquet took the hand of Madame de Belliere, who looked at him with a kind of uneasiness,

and then led her to an adjoining salon, after having recommended her to the most reasonable of his guests.

And then, taking Aramis by the arm, the superintendent led him towards his cabinet.

Aramis, on reaching the cabinet, forgot respect and etiquette; he threw himself into a chair, saying, "Guess

"My dear Chevalier, every time you begin in that manner I am sure to hear you announce something

"Well, and this time you will not be mistaken, either, my dear friend," replied Aramis.

"Well! what harm can she meditate against me? I am no miser, with women who are not prudes. Generosity

is a quality that is always prized, even by the woman who no longer dares to provoke love."

"Madame de Chevreuse knows very well that you are not avaricious, since she wishes to draw some money

"Oh, pretexts are never wanting with her! Let me tell you what hers is. It seems that the duchess has a good

"Yes; but these letters have nothing whatever to do with the prelate's loveaffairs. They concern, it is said,

"Yes, a hundred, nay, a thousand times. Since I have been engaged in public matters I have hardly heard

anything else but that, just as in your own case when you, a bishop, are charged with impiety, or a

musketeer, with cowardice. The very thing of which they are always accusing ministers of finance is the

"Very good. But let us specify; for according to the duchess, M. de Mazarin specifies."

"Something like a sum of thirteen million livres, the disposal of which it would be very embarrassing for you

"Thirteen millions!" said the superintendent, stretching himself in his armchair, in order to enable him the

more comfortably to look up towards the ceiling, "thirteen millions! I am trying to remember them out of all

"Do not laugh, my dear monsieur; it is serious. It is certain that the duchess has certain letters in her

possession; and these letters must be genuine, since she wished to sell them to me for five hundred thousand

"Oh, one can have a very tolerable calumny for such a sum as that!" replied Fouquet. "Ah! now I know what

"I remember the story of those thirteen millions now. Yes, yes, I remember them quite well."

"Well, then, one day Signor Mazarin, Heaven rest his soul! made a profit of thirteen millions upon a

concession of lands in the Valtelline; he cancelled them in the registry of receipts, sent them to me, and then

"Of course," said Fouquet, as he quietly rose from his chair, and went to his large ebony bureau, inlaid with

"What I most admire in you," said Aramis, with an air of great satisfaction, "is your memory, in the first

place; then, your selfpossession; and finally, the perfect order which prevails with you, you, a poet par

"Yes," said Fouquet, "I am orderly out of a spirit of idleness, to save myself the trouble of looking after

things; and so I know that Mazarin's receipt is in the third drawer under the letter M. I open the drawer, and

place my hand upon the very paper I need. In the night, without a light, I could find it"; and with a confident

hand he felt the bundle of papers which were piled up in the open drawer. "Nay, more than that," he

continued, "I remember the paper as if I saw it. It is thick, somewhat crumpled, with gilt edges. Mazarin had

made a blot upon the figure of the date. Ah!" he said, "the paper knows we are talking about it, and that we

want it very much, and so it hides itself out of the way." As the superintendent looked into the drawer,

Fouquet took out the bundle of papers, and turned them over once more; he then became very pale.

"Quite useless. I have never made a mistake. No one but myself arranges any papers of mine of this nature;

no one but myself ever opens this drawer, of which, besides, no one but myself is aware of the secret."

"That Mazarin's receipt has been stolen from me. Madame de Chevreuse was right, Chevalier; I have

appropriated the public funds; I have robbed the State coffers of thirteen millions of money; I am a thief, M.

"And why not, Chevalier? Surely there is every reason for it. If the legal proceedings are well arranged, and a

judgment is given in accordance with them, your friend the superintendent can follow to Montfaucon his

"And why not? Why not so fast? What do you suppose Madame de Chevreuse will have done with those

"I said I supposed so. I might have said I was sure of it, for I had her followed; and when she left me, she

returned to her own house, went out by a back door, and proceeded straight to the intendant's house in the

"Legal proceedings will be instituted, then scandal and dishonor will follow; and all will fall upon me like a

Aramis approached Fouquet, who sat trembling in his chair, close to the open drawers; he placed his hand on

his shoulder, and in an affectionate tone of voice said, "Do not forget that the position of M. Fouquet can in

"Because the proceedings against those ministers were determined, completed, and the sentence carried out;

"No; I do not mean that. You forget that all such proceedings originate in the parliament; that they are

instituted by the procureurgeneral, and that you are the procureurgeneral. You see that unless you wish to

Aramis at this reply became as livid as death; he pressed his hands together convulsively, and with a wild,

haggard look, which almost annihilated Fouquet, said, laying a stress upon every syllable, "You are

"Take care!" interrupted Aramis, coldly. "I do not think you are in full possession of your senses, my friend;

"I tell you," returned Fouquet, "that a little while ago some one came to me, brought by my friends, to offer

me fourteen hundred thousand livres for the appointment, and that I have sold it."

Aramis looked as if he had been thunderstricken; the intelligent and mocking expression of his countenance

was changed to an expression of gloom and terror which had more effect upon the superintendent than all the

exclamations and speeches in the world. "You had need of money, then?" he said at last.

"Yes; to discharge a debt of honor"; and in a few words he gave Aramis an account of Madame de la

Belliere's generosity, and of the manner in which he had thought he ought to repay that generosity.

"It must be carried out, though; for I have given the goldsmith, for twelve o'clock tomorrow, an order upon

my treasury, into which the purchaser's money will be paid at six or seven o'clock."

"Heaven be praised!" cried Aramis, clapping his hands together; "nothing is yet completed, since you have

"You shall receive the fourteen hundred thousand livres from me at a quarter before twelve."

"Ah! what are you saying to me?" cried Fouquet, in a most expressive tone. "Fouquet recall his word, after it

Aramis replied to the almost stern look of the minister with a look full of anger. "Monsieur," he said, "I

believe I have deserved to be called a man of honor, have I not? As a soldier I have risked my life five

hundred times; as a priest I have rendered great services, both to the State and to my friends. The value of a

word, once passed, is estimated according to the worth of the man who gives it. So long as it is in his own

keeping it is of the purest, finest gold; when his wish to keep it has passed away, it is a twoedged sword.

With that word, therefore, he defends himself as with an honorable weapon, considering that when he

disregards his word, that man of honor, he endangers his life, he courts the risk rather than that his

adversary should secure advantages. And then, Monsieur, he appeals to Heaven and to justice."

Fouquet bent down his head, as he replied: "I am a poor Breton, opinionated and commonplace; my mind

admires and fears yours. I do not say that I keep my word from a moral instinct; I keep it, if you like, by force

of habit. But at all events, the ordinary run of men are simple enough to admire this custom of mine. It is my

"And so you are determined to sign the sale of the office which would defend you against all your enemies?"

"You will deliver yourself up, then, bound hand and foot, from a false notion of honor, which the most

Aramis sighed deeply, and looked all round him with the impatient gesture of a man who would gladly dash

something to pieces, as a relief to his feelings. "We have still one means left," he said; "and I trust you will

"Certainly not, if it be loyal and honorable, as everything is, in fact, which you propose."

"I know nothing more loyal than a renunciation of your purchaser. Is he a friend of yours?"

Aramis became purple. "Vanel!" he cried, rising abruptly from his seat, "Vanel! the husband of Marguerite

"Yes, my dear fellow. She is anxious to be Madame the ProcureuseGeneral. I certainly owed poor Vanel

that slight concession; and I am a gainer by it, since I at the same time confer a pleasure on his wife."

Aramis walked straight to Fouquet, and took hold of his hand. "Do you know," he said very calmly, "the

"Ah! she has a new lover, then? I was not aware of it; no, I have no idea what his name is."

"His name is M. Jean Baptiste Colbert; he is intendant of the finances; he lives in the Rue

CroixdesPetitsChamps, where Madame de Chevreuse has this evening carried Mazarin's letters, which

"Gracious Heaven!" murmured Fouquet, passing his hand across his forehead, from which the perspiration

"Do you now think it worth while to be so scrupulous with regard to keeping your word?"

"These obstinate people always contrive matters in such a way that one cannot but admire them," murmured

Fouquet held out his hand to him; and at the very moment a richly ornamented tortoiseshell clock, supported

by golden figures, which was standing on a console table opposite to the fireplace, struck six. The sound of a

"M. Vanel," said Gourville, at the door of the cabinet, "inquiries if Monseigneur can receive him."

Fouquet turned his eyes from those of Aramis and replied, "Let M. Vanel come in."

VANEL, who entered at this stage of the conversation, was for Aramis and Fouquet the full stop which

terminates a sentence. But, for Vanel, Aramis's presence in Fouquet's cabinet had quite another signification.

At his first step into the room he fixed upon the delicate yet firm countenance of the Bishop of Vannes a look

of astonishment which soon became one of scrutinizing inquiry. As for Fouquet, a true politician, that is to

say, complete master of himself, he had already, by the energy of his own resolute will, contrived to remove

from his face all traces of the emotion which Aramis's revelation had occasioned. He was no longer,

therefore, a man overwhelmed by misfortune and reduced to expedients; he held his head proudly erect, and

extended his hand with a gesture of welcome to Vanel. He was prime minister; he was in his own house.

Aramis knew the superintendent well; the delicacy of the feelings of his heart and the exalted nature of his

mind could no longer surprise him. He confined himself, then, for the moment intending to resume later an

active part in the conversation to the difficult role of a man who looks on and listens in order to learn and

Vanel was visibly overcome, and advanced into the middle of the cabinet, bowing to everything and

"In matters of business, Monseigneur," replied Vanel, "I look upon exactitude as a virtue."

"I beg your pardon," interrupted Aramis, indicating Vanel with his finger, but addressing himself to Fouquet;

"this is the gentleman, I believe, who has come about the purchase of your appointment?"

"Yes, I am," replied Vanel, astonished at the extremely haughty tone with which Aramis had put the question;

"Come, gentlemen," said Fouquet, a truce to these ceremonies! Let us proceed to business."

"Oh," said Vanel to himself, "he has reflected on the matter, and I am lost!" But resuming his courage he

continued, "No, Monseigneur, nothing, absolutely nothing more than what I said to you yesterday, and

"Come, now, tell me frankly, M. Vanel, is not the affair rather a burdensome one for you?"

"You have been reflecting, do you say, Monseigneur?" exclaimed Vanel, anxiously.

"Do not make yourself uneasy on that score, M. Vanel! I shall not blame you for a failure in your word,

"Oh, yes, Monseigneur, you would blame me, and you would be right in doing so," said Vanel: "for a man

must be either imprudent or a fool to undertake engagements which he cannot keep; and I, at least, have

"You would be wrong to emphasize such notions as those, Monsieur," said the superintendent: "for a man's

mind is variable and full of little caprices, very excusable, and sometimes very worthy of respect; and a man

Aramis, who was delighted to find the superintendent carrying on the debate with such clearness and

precision, stood leaning his arm upon the marble top of a console table, and began to play with a small gold

knife with a malachite handle. Fouquet did not hasten to reply; but after a moment's pause, "Come, my dear

M. Vanel," he said, "I will explain to you how I am situated." Vanel began to tremble. "Yesterday I wished to

"Well, well, that may be so; but today I ask you, as a favor, to restore me my word which I pledged you."

"I know that; and that is the reason why I now entreat you, do you understand me? I entreat you to restore

Fouquet suddenly paused. The words "I entreat you," the force of which he did not immediately perceive,

seemed almost to choke him as he uttered it. Aramis, still playing with his knife, fixed a look upon Vanel

Vanel simply bowed as he said, "I am overcome, Monseigneur, at the honor you do me to consult me upon a

"Alas! Monseigneur, you see," he said, as he opened a large pocketbook, "I have brought the money with

me, the whole sum, I mean. And here, Monseigneur, is the contract of sale which I have just effected of a

property belonging to my wife. The order is authentic in every way, the necessary signatures have been

attached to it, and it is made payable at sight; it is ready money. In one word, the affair is complete."

"My dear M. Vanel, there is not a matter of business in this world, however important it may be, which

"And the more completely a friend, M. Vanel, in proportion to the importance of the service rendered, since

the value of the service he had received would have been so considerable. Well, what do you decide?"

Vanel preserved silence. In the mean time Aramis had continued his observations. Vanel's narrow face, his

deeply sunk orbits, his arched eyebrows, had revealed to the Bishop of Vannes the type of an avaricious and

ambitious character. Aramis's method was to oppose one passion by another. He saw Fouquet defeated,

demoralized; he threw himself into the contest with new weapons. "Excuse me, Monseigneur," he said; "you

forget to show M. Vanel that his own interests are diametrically opposed to this renunciation of the sale."

Vanel looked at the bishop with astonishment; he had hardly expected to find an auxiliary in him. Fouquet

"Do you not see," continued Aramis, "that M. Vanel, in order to purchase your appointment, has been obliged

to sell a property which belongs to his wife? Well, that is no slight matter; for one cannot displace fourteen or

fifteen hundred thousand livres, as he has done, without considerable loss and very serious inconvenience."

"Perfectly true," said Vanel, whose secret Aramis had with his keensighted gaze wrung from the bottom of

"Such embarrassments," pursued Aramis, "resolve themselves into expenses; and when one has a large

Aramis observed his coldness of manner and his silence. "Very good," he said to himself, "you are waiting, I

see, until you know the amount; but do not fear! I shall send you such a flight of crowns that you cannot but

"We must offer M. Vanel a hundred thousand crowns at once," said Fouquet, carried away by his generosity.

The sum was a good one. A prince, even, would have been satisfied with such a bonus. A hundred thousand

"He is a rascal!" thought the bishop; "we must offer the five hundred thousand livres at once!" and he made a

"You seem to have spent more than that, dear M. Vanel," said the superintendent. "The price of money is

enormous. You must have made a great sacrifice in selling your wife's property. Well, what can I have been

thinking of? It is an order for five hundred thousand livres that I am about to sign for you; and even in that

There was not a single gleam of delight or desire on Vanel's face, which remained impassive; not a muscle of

it changed in the slightest degree. Aramis cast a look of despair at Fouquet, and then, going straight up to

Vanel and taking hold of him by the coat with the gesture used by men of high rank, he said: "M. Vanel, it is

neither the inconvenience, nor the displacement of your money, nor the sale of your wife's property even, that

you are thinking of at this moment, it is something still more important. I can well understand it, so pay

"Yes, Monseigneur," Vanel replied, beginning to tremble. The fire in the eyes of the prelate scorched him.

"I offer you, therefore, in the superintendent's name, not three hundred thousand livres, nor five hundred

thousand, but a million. A million, do you understand me?" he added, as he shook him nervously.

"A million; in other words, at the present rate of interest, an income of seventy thousand livres!"

"Come, Monsieur," said Fouquet, "you can hardly refuse that. Answer! Do you accept?"

Aramis bit his lips, and something like a white cloud passed over his face. That cloud indicated thunder. He

still kept his hold on Vanel. "You have purchased the appointment for fifteen hundred thousand livres, I

think? Well, we will give you these fifteen hundred thousand livres; by paying M. Fouquet a visit, and

shaking hands with him, you will have become a gainer of a million and a half. You get honor and profit at

"Very well," replied Aramis, who had grasped Vanel so tightly by the coat that when he let go his hold Vanel

staggered back a few paces, "very well; one can now see clearly enough your object in coming here."

"But" said Vanel, attempting to stand erect before the weakness of these two men of honor.

"The wretch, I meant to say," added the prelate, who had now resumed his usual selfpossession. "Come,

Monsieur, produce your deed of sale! You should have it there, in one of your pockets, already prepared, as

Vanel tremblingly searched in his pockets; and as he drew out his pocketbook, a paper fell out of it, while

Vanel offered the other to Fouquet. Aramis pounced upon the paper which had fallen out, the handwriting of

"I see that very clearly," retorted Aramis, with a smile more cutting than a lash of a whip would have been;

"and what surprises me is that this draught is in M. Colbert's handwriting. Look, Monseigneur, look!" And he

handed the paper to Fouquet, who recognized the truth of his remark; for, covered with erasures, with

inserted words, the margins filled with additions, this deed an open proof of Colbert's plot had just

Vanel, completely humiliated, seemed as if he were looking for some deep hole where he could hide himself.

"Well!" said Aramis, "if your name were not Fouquet, and if your enemy's name were not Colbert, if you

had to deal only with this mean thief before you, I should say to you, 'Repudiate it!' Such a proof as this

absolves you from your word. But these fellows would think you were afraid; they would fear you less than

Fouquet pressed Aramis's hand; but instead of the deed which Vanel handed to him, he took the rough

"No, not that paper," said Aramis, hastily; "this is the one. The other is too precious a document for you to

"No, no!" replied Fouquet. "I will sign upon the paper of M. Colbert; and I write, 'The writing is approved.'"

He then signed, and said, "Here it is, M. Vanel"; and the latter seized the paper, laid down his money, and

"One moment!" said Aramis. "Are you quite sure the exact amount is there? It ought to be counted over, M.

Vanel, particularly since it is money which M. Colbert presents to the ladies. Ah, that worthy M. Colbert is

not so generous as M. Fouquet!" and Aramis, spelling every word, every letter of the order to pay, distilled

his wrath and his contempt, drop by drop, upon the miserable wretch, who had to submit to this torture for a

quarter of an hour. He was then dismissed, not in words, but by a gesture, as one dismisses a beggar or

As soon as Vanel had gone, the minister and the prelate, their eyes fixed on each other, remained silent for a

"Well," said Aramis, the first to break the silence, "to what can that man be compared, who, entering into a

conflict with an enemy armed from head to foot, thirsting for his life, strips himself, throws down his arms,

and sends kisses to his adversary? Good faith, M. Fouquet, is a weapon which scoundrels very frequently

make use of against men of honor, and it answers their purpose. Men of honor ought in their turn, also, to

make use of bad faith against such scoundrels. You would soon see how strong they would become without

"Not at all; it would be merely coquetting or playing with the truth. And now, since you have finished with

this Vanel, since you have deprived yourself of the happiness of confounding him by repudiating your word,

and since you have given up, to be used against yourself, the only weapon which can ruin us"

"My dear friend," said Fouquet, mournfully, "you are like the teacher of philosophy whom La Fontaine was

telling us about the other day: he saw a child drowning, and began to read him a lecture divided into three

Aramis smiled as he said, "Philosophy, yes, teacher, yes; a drowning child, yes; but a child that can be

saved, you shall see. And, first of all, let us talk about business." Fouquet looked at him with an air of

astonishment. "Did you not some time ago speak to me about an idea you had of giving a fete at Vaux?"

"No, no, my dear prelate; a fete to which M. Colbert advised the King to invite himself!"

"Ah! exactly; as it would be a fete of so costly a character that you would be ruined in giving it?"

"Precisely so. In other times, as I said just now, I had a kind of pride in showing my enemies the fruitfulness

of my resources; I felt it a point of honor to strike them with amazement, in creating millions under

circumstances where they had imagined nothing but bankruptcies possible. But at the present day I am

arranging my accounts with the State, with the King, with myself; and I must now become a mean, stingy

man. I shall be able to prove to the world that I can act or operate with my deniers as I used to do with my

bags of pistoles; and beginning tomorrow, my equipages shall be sold, my houses mortgaged, my expenses

"Beginning with tomorrow," interrupted Aramis, quietly, "you will occupy yourself, without the slightest

delay, with your fete at Vaux, which must hereafter be spoken of with the most magnificent productions of

"What do you mean, then? Do you not know that a fete at Vaux, of the very simplest possible character,

"I do not speak of a fete of the very simplest possible character, my dear superintendent."

"But since the fete is to be given to the King," replied Fouquet, who misunderstood Aramis's idea, "it cannot

"That is my affair, Monsieur the Superintendent; and do not be uneasy for a moment about it. The money will

be placed at once at your disposal, sooner than you will have arranged the plans of your fete."

"Chevalier! Chevalier!" said Fouquet, giddy with amazement, "whither are you hurrying me?"

"Across the gulf into which you were about to fall," replied the Bishop of Vannes. "Take hold of my cloak

"Why did you not tell me that sooner, Aramis? There was a day when with one million you could have saved

"While today I can give you twenty," said the prelate. "Such is the case, however. The reason is very simple.

On the day you speak of I had not at my disposal the million which you needed, while now I can easily

Aramis smiled, with the singular expression habitual with him. "Heaven never fails to hear me," he said;

"No, no; I do not understand it in that manner. It is I who am entirely at your service. Therefore you, who

have the clearest, the most delicate, and the most ingenious mind, you shall have entire control over the fete,

"Only?" said Fouquet, as a man accustomed to appreciate the value of a parenthesis.

"Well, then, leaving the entire invention of the details to you, I shall reserve to myself a general

"I mean that you will make of me, on that day, a majordomo, a sort of inspectorgeneral, or factotum,

something between a captain of the guard and manager or steward. I will look after the people, and will keep

the keys of the doors. You will give your orders, of course; but will give them to no one but to me. They will

pass through my lips, to reach those for whom they are intended, you understand?"

Chapter XI: In Which the Author Thinks It Is Now Time to Return to the Vicomte de Bragelonne

OUR readers have observed in this history the adventures of the new and of the past generation unrolled, as it

were, side by side. To the former, the reflection of the glory of earlier years, the experience of the bitter

things of this world; to the former, also, the peace which takes possession of the heart, and the healing of the

scars which were formerly deep and painful wounds. To the latter, the conflicts of love and vanity, bitter

disappointments and ineffable delights, life instead of memory. If any variety has been presented to the

reader in the different episodes of this tale, it is to be attributed to the numerous shades of color which are

presented on this double palette, where two pictures are seen side by side, mingling and harmonizing their

severe and pleasing tones. The repose of the emotions of the one is found in the midst of the emotions of the

other. After having talked reason with older heads, one likes to share in the wildness of young people.

Therefore, if the threads of this story do not seem very intimately to connect the chapter we are now writing

with that we have just written, we do not intend to give ourselves any more thought or trouble about it than

Ruysdael took in painting an autumn sky after having finished a springtime scene. We wish our readers to

do as much, and to resume Raoul de Bragelonne's story at the very place where our last sketch left him.

In a state of frenzy and dismay, or rather without reason, without will, without purpose, Raoul fled

heedlessly away after the scene in La Valliere's room. The King, Montalais, Louise, that chamber, that

strange exclusion, Louise's grief, Montalais's terror, the King's wrath, all seemed to indicate some

misfortune. But what? He had arrived from London because he had been told of the existence of a danger,

and at once this danger showed itself. Was not that sufficient for a lover? Certainly it was; but it was

insufficient for a pure and upright heart such as his. And yet Raoul did not seek for explanations in the

quarter where all jealous or less timid lovers would have sought them. He did not go straightway to his

mistress, and say, "Louise, is it true that you love me no longer? Is it true that you love another?" Full of

courage, full of friendship, as he was full of love; a religious observer of his word, and believing the words of

others, Raoul said within himself, "Guiche wrote to put me on my guard; Guiche knows something; I will

The journey was not a long one. Guiche, who had been brought from Fontainebleau to Paris within the last

two days, was beginning to recover from his wound, and to walk about a little in his room. He uttered a cry of

joy as he saw Raoul enter his apartment with the eagerness of friendship. Raoul uttered a cry of grief on

seeing De Guiche so pale, so thin, so melancholy. A few words, and a simple gesture which De Guiche made

"Ah! so it is," said Raoul, seating himself beside his friend; "one loves and dies."

"No, no, not dies," replied Guiche, smiling, "since I am now recovering, and since, too, I can press you in my

"No; I am the happiest of men. My body suffers, but not my mind or my heart. If you only knew Oh, I am,

"My dear friend, you would be wrong, I think, to ask me any questions, you!" and he laid so much weight

upon the "you" that he completely enlightened his friend upon the nature of the evil and the difficulty of

"Certainly. We will talk over that matter a little when you shall have finished telling me of all your own

"Thank you. I have hurried, I have flown here, I came here from London in half the time the government

"You cannot possibly have crushed all my hopes so violently, or have exposed me to being disgraced by the

King for my return, which is in disobedience of his orders, you cannot, in short, have planted jealousy in my

"I do not say to you, Raoul, 'Sleep quietly!' But pray understand me; I never will, nor can I indeed, tell you

"If you know anything, why conceal it from me? If you do not know anything, why did you warn me?"

"True, true! I was very wrong, and I regret having done so, Raoul. It seems nothing to write to a friend and

say, 'Come'; but to have this friend face to face, to feel him tremble and breathlessly wait to hear what one

"See how unjust you are, and how soon you forget you have to do with a poor wounded fellow, the half of

your heart! Calm yourself, Raoul! I said to you, 'Come'; you are here. Ask nothing further of the unhappy De

"You summoned me in the hope that I should see with my own eyes, did you not? Nay, do not hesitate, for I

"There now, you see you are not sure. But if you have any doubt, my poor friend, what remains for me to

"Yes. You turn your head aside. The danger is there, the evil is there! tell me, is it not so, it is the King?"

"Oh, you say a thousand upon a thousand times more than nothing! Give me facts! for pity's sake, give me

proofs! My friend, the only friend I have, speak! My heart is crushed, wounded to death; I am dying from

"If that really be so, my dear Raoul," replied De Guiche, "you relieve me from my difficulty, and I will tell

you all, sure that I can tell you nothing but what is consoling, compared to the despair in which I now see

"Before you say people talk about it, learn what it is that people can talk about. I assure you, solemnly, that

"Yes, certainly, a walk with the King; and I believe the King has very frequently before taken walks with

"You would not have written to me, shall I say again, if there had been nothing unusual in this promenade?"

"I know that while the storm lasted, it would have been far better if the King had taken shelter somewhere

"No I mean yes; there was the adventure of the oak, I think. But I know nothing about the matter at all."

Raoul rose; De Guiche endeavored to imitate him, notwithstanding his weakness. "Well, I will not add

another word; I have said either too much or not enough. Let others give you further information if they will,

or if they can; my duty was to warn you, and that I have done. Watch over your own affairs now, yourself!"

"Question others? Alas! you are no true friend to speak to me in that manner," said the young man, in utter

distress. "The first man I shall question may be either evilly disposed or a fool, if the former, he will tell me

a lie to torment me; if the latter, he will do still worse. Ah! De Guiche, De Guiche, before two hours are over,

I shall have been told ten falsehoods, and shall have as many duels on my hands. Save me, then! Is it not best

"But I know nothing, I tell you. I was wounded, in a fever; my senses were gone, and I have only effaced

impressions of it all. But there is no reason why we should search very far, when the very man we want is

"Go to him, then. He will throw light on the subject and without seeking to injure your eyes."

"Very well. Will you excuse me, my dear Raoul? I am so proud since I have been able to walk again."

"I would offer you my arm, De Guiche, if I did not guess that the person in question is a lady."

Raoul remained motionless, absorbed, overwhelmed, like the miner upon whom a vault has just fallen in: he

is wounded, his lifeblood is welling fast, his thoughts are confused; he endeavors to recover himself, and to

save his life and his reason. A few minutes were all Raoul needed to dissipate the bewildering sensations

which had been occasioned by these two revelations. He had already recovered the thread of his ideas, when

suddenly through the door he fancied he recognized Montalais's voice in the Cabinet des Porcelaines. "She!"

he cried. "Yes; it is indeed her voice! Oh! here is a woman who can tell me the truth; but shall I question her

here? She conceals herself even from me; she is coming, no doubt, from Madame. I will see her in her own

apartment. She will explain her alarm, her flight, the strange manner in which I was driven out; she will tell

me all that, after M. d'Artagnan, who knows everything, shall have given me fresh strength and courage.

Madame a coquette, I fear, and yet a coquette who is herself in love has her moments of kindness; a

coquette who is as capricious and uncertain as life or death, but who causes De Guiche to say that he is the

happiest of men. He at least is lying on roses." And so he hastily quitted the count's apartments; and

reproaching himself as he went for having talked of nothing but his own affairs to De Guiche, he arrived at

THE captain was sitting buried in his leathern armchair, his spur fixed in the floor, his sword between his

legs, and was occupied in reading a great number of letters, as he twisted his mustache. D'Artagnan uttered a

welcome full of pleasure when he perceived his friend's son. "Raoul, my boy," he said, "by what lucky

These words did not sound overagreeably in the young man's ears, who as he seated himself replied, "Upon

"Hum!" said d'Artagnan, folding up his letters and directing a look full of meaning at him. "What do you say,

my boy? that the King has not recalled you, and that you have returned? I do not at all understand that."

Raoul was already pale enough, and he began to turn his hat round and round in his hand with an air of

"What the deuce is the matter, that you look as you do, and what makes you so dumb?" said the captain. "Do

people catch that fashion in England? I have been in England, and came back again as lively as a chaffinch.

D'Artagnan increased the sharpness of his penetrating gaze, which no secret was capable of resisting. "You

"Dear captain, I know very well that in all trials of finesse, as well as in all trials of strength, I shall be beaten

by you. You can see that at the present moment I am an idiot, a fool. I have neither head nor arm; do not

"Oh! oh! why that?" inquired d'Artagnan, unbuckling his belt and softening the ruggedness of his smile.

"She is deceiving you?" said d'Artagnan, not a muscle of whose face had moved. "Those are big words. Who

"Ah! if every one says so, there must be some truth in it. I begin to believe there is fire when I see the smoke.

"Exactly. If you were a stranger, I should tell you I should tell you nothing at all. How is Porthos, do you

"Monsieur," cried Raoul, pressing d'Artagnan's hand, "I entreat you, in the name of the friendship you have

"Good! Another grand word! If you were really in love, my dear Raoul, you would be very different."

"I mean that if you were so deeply in love that I could believe I was addressing myself to your heart But it is

"Impossible, I tell you," he said. "You are like all young men, you are not in love, you are out of your

"No sensible man ever succeeded in making much of a brain when the head was turned. I have lost my

bearings in the same way a hundred times in my life. You would listen to me, but you would not hear me;

you would hear, but you would not understand me; you would understand, but you would not obey me."

"I say more. Even if I were unfortunate enough to know something, and foolish enough to communicate it to

"Very good. I should quarrel with you. You would never forgive me for having destroyed your illusion, as

"M. d'Artagnan, you know all; and yet you plunge me in perplexity, in despair, in death."

"I never complain, as you know; but as Heaven and my father would never forgive me for blowing out my

brains, I will go and get the first person I meet to give me the information which you withhold; I will tell him

"And you will kill him? A fine affair that would be! So much the better. What should I care for it? Kill my

boy, kill, if it can give you any pleasure. It is exactly like a man with the toothache, who keeps on saying,

'Oh, what torture I am suffering! I could bite iron.' My answer always is, 'Bite, my friend, bite; the tooth will

"Yes, yes; you fellows of today put on those airs. Instead of killing, you will get killed yourself, I suppose

you mean? Very fine indeed! How much I should regret you! I should say all day long: 'Ah! what a

highflown simpleton that Bragelonne was, doubly an ingrate! I have passed my whole life almost in

teaching him how to hold his sword properly, and the silly fellow has got himself spitted like a lark.' Go,

then, Raoul, go and get yourself disposed of, if you like. I don't know who taught you logic; but, God damn

me, as the English say, whoever it was, Monsieur, has stolen your father's money."

Raoul buried his face in his hands, murmuring, "No, no; I have not a single friend in the world!"

"Idle fancies, Monsieur! I do not laugh at you, although I am a Gascon. And as for being indifferent, if I were

so I should have sent you to all the devils a quarter of an hour ago; for you would sadden a man who was

wild with joy, and would kill one who was sad. How now, young man! Do you wish me to disgust you with

the girl to whom you are attached, and to teach you to execrate women, who are the honor and happiness of

"Do you think, my dear fellow, that I can have crammed into my brain all that business about the carpenter

and the painter and the staircase and the portrait, and a hundred other tales to sleep over?"

"Upon my word, I don't know. Some one told me there was a carpenter who made an opening through a

"It seems that the King wished to have the portrait of one of the ladies belonging to the court."

"Why, you seem to have only that name in your mouth! Who spoke to you of La Valliere?"

"I do not suppose it will concern you. But you ask me all sorts of questions, and I answer you; you wish to

Raoul struck his forehead with his hand, in utter despair. "It will kill me! he said.

"Mademoiselle de la Valliere herself, I suppose you mean?" said d'Artagnan, with a smile. "Ah, a famous

idea that! You wish to be consoled by some one, and you will be so at once. She will tell you nothing ill of

"You are mistaken, Monsieur," replied Raoul; "the woman I mean will tell me all the evil she possibly can."

"Ah! her friend, a woman who in that capacity will exaggerate all that is either bad or good in the matter. Do

"Well, I admit it. And, in point of fact, why should I play with you as a cat does with a poor mouse? You

distress me, you do indeed. And if I wish you not to speak to Montalais just now, it is because you will be

"So much the worse. Why, you see, Raoul, if I had an idea but I have not got one."

"Promise that you will pity me, my friend, that is all I need, and leave me to get out of the affair by

"Oh, yes, indeed, in order that you may get deeper into the mire! A capital idea, truly! Go and sit down at that

"Ah!" said Raoul, snatching eagerly at the pen which the captain held out to him.

Suddenly the door opened; and one of the musketeers, approaching d'Artagnan, said, "Captain, Mademoiselle

"To me?" murmured d'Artagnan. "Ask her to come in. I shall soon see," he said to himself, "whether she

The cunning captain was quite right in his suspicions; for as soon as Montalais entered, she saw Raoul and

"Oh, I forgive you, Mademoiselle," said d'Artagnan; "I know that at my age those who look for me have great

"Go along, then," he said, as he gently pushed Raoul out of the cabinet; and then taking hold of Montalais's

hand, he said in a low voice, "Be kind towards him; spare him, and spare her too."

"Very good," cried d'Artagnan; "it is Madame, is it? In an hour's time, then, the poor fellow will be cured."

"Or else dead," said Montalais, in a voice full of compassion. "Adieu, M. d'Artagnan!" she said; and she ran

to join Raoul, who was waiting for her at a little distance from the door, very much puzzled and uneasy at the

LOVERS are very tender towards everything which concerns the person with whom they are in love. Raoul

no sooner found himself alone with Montalais than he kissed her hand with rapture. "There, there," said the

young girl, sadly, "you are throwing your kisses away; I will guarantee that they will not bring you back any

"Madame will explain everything to you. I am going to take you to her apartments."

"Silence! and throw aside your wild and savage looks. The windows here have eyes; the walls have ears.

Have the kindness not to look at me any longer; be good enough to speak to me aloud of the rain, of the fine

"I tell you, I warn you, that somewhere, I know not where, Madame is sure to have eyes and ears open. I am

not very desirous, you can easily believe, to be dismissed or thrown into the Bastille. Let us talk, I tell you; or

Raoul clinched his hands, and assumed the look and gait of a man of courage, but of a man of courage on his

way to the torture. Montalais, glancing in every direction, walking along with an easy swinging gait, and

holding up her head pertly in the air, preceded him to Madame's apartments, where he was at once

introduced. "Well," he thought, "this day will pass away without my learning anything. De Guiche had too

much consideration for my feelings. He has no doubt an understanding with Madame; and both of them, by a

friendly plot, have agreed to postpone the solution of the problem. Why have I not here a good enemy, that

serpent De Wardes, for instance? That he would bite is very likely, but I should not hesitate any more. To

Raoul was in Madame's presence. Henrietta, more charming than ever, was half lying, half reclining in her

armchair, her little feet upon an embroidered velvet cushion; she was playing with a little kitten with long

Madame was thinking; she was thinking profoundly. It required both Montalais's and Raoul's voice to disturb

Madame shook her head, as if she were just awakening, and then said: "Goodmorning, M. de Bragelonne.

"All my life is at your royal Highness's disposal," Raoul returned, with respect, guessing that there was

something serious under all these outward courtesies of Madame; nor was he displeased, indeed, to observe

the seriousness of her manner, feeling persuaded that there was some sort of affinity between Madame's

sentiments and his own. In fact, every one at court of any perception at all well knew the capricious fancy and

absurd despotism of the princess's singular character. Madame had been flattered beyond all bounds by the

King's attentions; she had made herself talked about; she had inspired the Queen with that mortal jealousy

which is the gnawing worm at the root of every woman's happiness. Madame, in a word, in her attempts to

cure a wounded pride, had found that her heart had become deeply and passionately attached.

We know what Madame had done to recall Raoul, who had been sent out of the way by Louis XIV. Raoul did

not know of her letter to Charles II, although d'Artagnan had guessed its contents. Who will undertake to

account for that seemingly inexplicable mixture of love and vanity, that passionate tenderness of feeling, that

prodigious duplicity of conduct? No one can, indeed; not even the bad angel who kindles the love of coquetry

"M. de Bragelonne," said the princess, after a moment's pause, "have you returned satisfied?"

Bragelonne looked at Madame Henrietta, and seeing how pale she was, from what she was keeping back,

from what she was burning to disclose, replied: "Satisfied? What is there for me to be satisfied or dissatisfied

"But what are those things with which a man of your age and of your appearance is usually either satisfied or

"How eager she is?" thought Raoul, terrified. "What is it that she is going to breathe into my heart?" and then,

frightened at what she might possibly be going to tell him, and wishing to put off the moment so wished for

but so dreadful, when he should learn all, he replied, "I left behind me, Madame, a dear friend in good health,

"You refer to M. de Guiche," replied Madame Henrietta, with the most imperturbable selfpossession; "I

"Well, it is quite true he has been wounded; but he is better now. Oh, M. de Guiche is not to be pitied!" she

said hurriedly; and then, recovering herself, added, "But has he anything to complain of? Has he complained

of anything? Is there any cause of grief or sorrow with which we are not acquainted?"

"So much the better, then; for in other respects M. de Guiche seems to be very happy, he is always in very

high spirits. I am sure that you, M. de Bragelonne, would far prefer to be, like him, wounded only in the

Raoul started. "Alas!" he said to himself, "she is returning to it." He made no reply.

"You did not say anything. You disapprove of my observation, then. You are perfectly satisfied, I suppose?"

Raoul approached closer to her. "Madame," he said, "your royal Highness wishes to say something to me,

and your instinctive kindness and generosity of disposition induce you to be careful and considerate as to

your manner of conveying it. Will your royal Highness throw this kind forbearance aside? I am strong, and I

"That which your royal Highness wishes me to understand," said Raoul, trembling, notwithstanding his

"In point of fact," murmured the princess, "it seems cruel; but since I have begun"

"Yes, Madame, since your Highness has deigned to begin, will you deign to finish"

Henrietta rose hurriedly, and walked a few paces up and down her room. "What did M. de Guiche tell you?"

"And that is what friends call friendship. But surely M. d'Artagnan, whom you have just left, must have told

Henrietta made a gesture full of impatience, as she said, "At least, you know all that the court has known?"

Raoul, whose head drooped like the flower which has been cut down by the sickle, made an almost

superhuman effort to smile as he replied with the greatest gentleness: "I have had the honor to tell your royal

Highness that I am absolutely ignorant of everything, that I am a poor unremembered outcast, who has this

moment arrived from England. There have been so many stormy waves between myself and those whom I

left behind me here, that the rumor of none of the circumstances your Highness refers to has been able to

Henrietta was affected by his extreme pallor, his gentleness, and his great courage. The principal feeling in

her heart at that moment was an eager desire to hear the nature of the remembrance which the poor lover

retained of her who had made him suffer so much. "M. de Bragelonne," said she, "that which your friends

have refused to do, I will do for you, whom I like and esteem. I will be your friend. You hold your head high,

as a man of honor should do; and I should regret that you should have to bow it down under ridicule, and in a

"If you do not know," said the princess, "I see that you guess; you were affianced, I believe, to Mademoiselle

"By that right, then, you deserve to be warned about her, as some day or other I shall be obliged to dismiss

"Of course! Do you suppose that I shall always be accessible to the tears and protestations of the King? No,

no; my house shall no longer be made a convenience for such practices. But you tremble!"

"No, Madame, no," said Bragelonne, making an effort over himself. "I thought I should have died just now;

that was all. Your royal Highness did me the honor to say that the King wept and implored you"

"Yes; but in vain," returned the princess, who then related to Raoul the scene that took place at Chaillot, and

the King's despair on his return. She told him of his indulgence to herself, and the terrible word with which

the outraged princess, the humiliated coquette, had dashed aside the royal anger.

Henrietta was for a moment struck with admiration at this sublime disbelief; and then, shrugging her

shoulders, she said: "You do not believe me, I see. Oh, how deeply you love her! And you doubt if she loves

"Until I have proof. Pardon! I have her word, you see; and she is a noble child."

THE princess, preceding Raoul, led him through the courtyard towards that part of the building which La

Valliere inhabited; and ascending the same staircase which Raoul had himself ascended that very morning,

she paused at the door of the room in which the young man had been so strangely received by Montalais. The

opportunity had been well chosen to carry out the project which Madame Henrietta had conceived, for the

chateau was empty. The King, the courtiers, and the ladies of the court had set off for St. Germain; Madame

Henrietta alone, aware of Bragelonne's return, and thinking over the advantages which might be drawn from

this return, had feigned indisposition in order to remain behind. Madame was therefore confident of finding

La Valliere's room and SaintAignan's apartment unoccupied. She took a passkey from her pocket, and

opened the door of her maidofhonor's room. Bragelonne's gaze was immediately fixed upon the interior of

the room, which he recognized at once; and the impression which the sight of it produced upon him was one

of the first tortures that had awaited him. The princess looked at him, and her practised eye could at once

"You asked me for proofs," she said; "do not be astonished, then, if I give you them. But if you do not think

"I thank you, Madame," said Bragelonne; "but I came here to be convinced. You promised to convince me;

Bragelonne obeyed, and then turned towards the princess, whom he interrogated by a look.

"Everything leads me to believe that I am in Mademoiselle de la Valliere's room."

"But I would observe to your Highness that this room is a room, and is not a proof."

"Wait," said the princess, as she walked to the foot of the bed, folded up the screen into its several

compartments, and stooped down towards the floor. "Look here," she continued; "stoop down, and lift up this

"A trapdoor!" said Raoul, astonished; for d'Artagnan's words recurred to his mind, and he remembered that

d'Artagnan had made vague use of that word. He looked in vain for some cleft or crevice which might

indicate an opening, or a ring to assist in lifting up some portion of the planking.

"Ah! that is true," said Madame Henrietta, smiling; "I forgot the secret spring, the fourth plank of the

flooring. Press on the spot where you will observe a knot in the wood. Those are the instructions. Press,

Raoul, pale as death, pressed his finger on the spot which had been indicated to him; at the same moment the

"It is very ingenious, certainly," said the princess; "and one can see that the architect foresaw that it would be

a small hand which would have to employ that device. See how easily the trapdoor opens without

"Yes; and a very pretty one too," said Madame Henrietta. "See, Viscount, the staircase has a balustrade,

intended to prevent the falling of timid persons, who might be tempted to descend; and I will risk myself on it

"Ah! true; I forgot to tell you. You know, perhaps, that formerly M. de SaintAignan lived in the very next

"Yes, Madame, I am aware of that, that was the arrangement, at least, before I left; and more than once I

"Well, he obtained the King's leave to change that convenient and beautiful apartment for the two rooms to

which this staircase will conduct us, and which together form a lodging for him twice as small and at ten

times greater distance from the King, a close proximity to whom is by no means disdained, in general, by

"Very good, Madame," returned Raoul; "but go on, I beg, for I do not yet understand."

"Well, then, it accidentally happened," continued the princess, "that M. de SaintAignan's apartment is

situated underneath the apartments of my maids of honor, and particularly underneath the room of La

"That I cannot tell you. Would you like to go down to M. de SaintAignan's rooms? Perhaps we shall there

Madame set the example by going down herself; and Raoul, sighing deeply, followed her. At every step

Bragelonne took, he advanced farther into that mysterious apartment which had been witness to La Valliere's

sighs, and still retained the sweetest perfume of her presence. Bragelonne fancied that he perceived, as he

inhaled his every breath, that the young girl must have passed through there. Then succeeded to these

emanations of herself, which he regarded as invisible though certain proofs, the flowers she preferred to all

others, the books of her own selection. Had Raoul preserved a single doubt on the subject, it would have

vanished at the secret harmony of tastes and disposition of the mind shown in the things of common use. La

Valliere, in Bragelonne's eyes, was present there in every article of furniture, in the color of the hangings, in

everything that surrounded him. Dumb, and completely overwhelmed there was nothing further for him to

learn, and he followed his pitiless conductress as blindly as the culprit follows the executioner. Madame, as

cruel as all women of delicate and nervous temperaments are, did not spare him the slightest detail. But it

must be admitted that notwithstanding the kind of apathy into which he had fallen, none of these details, even

had he been left alone, would have escaped him. The happiness of the woman who loves, when that

happiness is derived from a rival, is a torture for a jealous man; but for a jealous man such as Raoul was, for

that heart which for the first time was steeped in gall and bitterness, Louise's happiness was in reality an

ignominious death, a death of body and soul. He divined all, their hands clasped in each other's, their faces

drawn close together, and reflected, side by side, in loving proximity, as they gazed upon the mirrors around

them, so sweet an occupation for lovers, who, as they thus see themselves twice over, impress the picture

more enduringly in their memories. He divined the kiss unseen behind the heavy curtains falling free of their

bands. He translated into feverish pains the eloquence of the couches hid in their shadow. That luxury, that

studied elegance, full of intoxication; that extreme care to spare the loved object every annoyance or to

occasion her a delightful surprise; that strength and power of love multiplied by the strength and power of

royalty itself, struck Raoul a mortal blow. O, if there be anything which can assuage the tortures of jealousy,

it is the inferiority of the man who is preferred to yourself; while, on the very contrary, if there be a hell

within hell, a torture without name in language, it is the almightiness of a god placed at the disposal of a rival,

together with youth, beauty, and grace. In moments such as these, God himself seems to have taken part

One final pang was reserved for poor Raoul. Madame Henrietta lifted a silk curtain, and behind the curtain he

perceived La Valliere's portrait. Not only the portrait of La Valliere, but of La Valliere eloquent of youth,

beauty, and happiness, inhaling life and enjoyment at every pore, because at eighteen years of age love itself

"Louise!" murmured Bragelonne, "Louise! is it true, then? Oh, you have never loved me, for never have you

looked at me in that manner!" and he felt as if his heart were crushed within his bosom.

Madame Henrietta looked at him, almost envious of his extreme grief, although she well knew there was

nothing to envy in it, and that she herself was as passionately loved by De Guiche as Louise by Bragelonne.

"Oh, forgive me, forgive me, Madame! In your presence I know I ought to have greater mastery over myself.

But may the Lord God of Heaven and of earth grant that you may never be struck the blow which crushes me

at this moment; for you are but a woman, and would not be able to endure so terrible an affliction. Forgive

me! I am but a poor gentleman, while you belong to the race of the happy, of the allpowerful, of the elect"

"M. de Bragelonne," replied Henrietta, "a heart such as yours merits all the consideration and respect which a

queen's heart even can bestow. I am your friend, Monsieur; and as such, indeed, I would not allow your

whole life to be poisoned by perfidy and covered with ridicule. It was I, indeed, who with more courage than

any of your pretended friends, I except M. de Guiche, was the cause of your return from London; it is I,

also, who have given you these melancholy proofs, necessary however for your cure, if you are a lover with

courage in his heart, and not a weeping Amadis. Do not thank me; pity me even, and do not serve the King

Raoul smiled bitterly. "Ah! true, true; I was forgetting that! The King is my master."

A steady, penetrating look informed Madame Henrietta that she was mistaken, and that her last argument was

not likely to affect the young man. "Take care, M. de Bragelonne," she said; "for if you do not weigh well all

your actions, you might throw into an extravagance of wrath a prince whose passions, once aroused, exceed

the limits of reason, and you would thereby involve your friends and family in distress. You must bend; you

"I thank you, Madame. I appreciate the advice your royal Highness is good enough to give me, and I will

"Should I be indiscreet in asking you the secret of this staircase, of this trapdoor, a secret which you have

"Oh, nothing is more simple! For the purpose of exercising a surveillance over the young girls who are

attached to my service, I have duplicate keys of their doors. It seemed very strange to me that M. de

SaintAignan should change his apartments; it seemed very strange that the King should come to see M. de

SaintAignan every day; and finally, it seemed very strange that so many things should be done during your

absence, that the very habits and customs of the court seemed to be changed. I do not wish to be trifled with

by the King, nor to serve as a cloak for his loveaffairs; for after La Valliere, who weeps, he will take a fancy

to Montalais, who laughs, and then to TonnayCharente, who sings. To act such a part as that would be

unworthy of me. I have thrust aside the scruples which my friendship for you suggested. I have discovered

the secret. I have wounded your feelings, I know, and I again entreat you to excuse me; but I had a duty to

fulfill. I have discharged it. You are now forewarned. The tempest will soon burst; protect yourself."

"You naturally expect, however, that a result of some kind must follow," replied Bragelonne, with firmness;

"for you do not suppose I shall silently accept the shame which is thrust upon me, or the treachery which has

"You will take whatever steps in the matter you please, M. Raoul; only, do not betray the source whence you

derived the truth. That is all I have to ask; that is the only price I require for the service I have rendered you."

"I bribed the locksmith in whom the lovers had confided. You can just as well do so as myself, can you not?"

"Yes, Madame. Your royal Highness, however, has no other advice or caution to give me, except that of not

"I am, therefore, about to beg your royal Highness to allow me to remain here for one moment."

"Oh, no, Madame! It matters very little, for what I have to do can be done in your presence. I only ask one

"No one can possibly know that your royal Highness has done me the honor to conduct me here. Besides, I

Raoul drew out his tablet, and wrote rapidly on one of the leaves the following words:

"MONSIEUR THE COUNT: Do not be surprised to find here this paper signed by me. The friend whom I

shall very shortly send to call on you will have the honor to explain the object of my visit to you.

Rolling up the paper, and slipping it into the lock of the door which communicated with the room set apart

for the two lovers, Raoul satisfied himself that the paper was so apparent that De SaintAignan could not but

see it as he entered; then he rejoined the princess, who had already reached the top of the staircase. They then

separated, Raoul pretending to thank her Highness; Henrietta pitying, or seeming to pity, with all her heart

the unhappy man she had just condemned to so fearful torture. "Oh," she said as she saw him disappear, pale

as death, his eye injected with blood, "if I had known this, I should have concealed the truth from that poor

THE multiplicity of the personages we have introduced into this long history compels that each shall appear

only in his own turn and according to the exigencies of the recital. The result is that our readers have had no

opportunity of again meeting our friend Porthos since his return from Fontainebleau. The honors which he

had received from the King had not changed the tranquil, affectionate character of that worthy man; only, he

held up his head a little higher than usual, and a majesty of demeanor as it were betrayed itself, since the

His Majesty's banquetingroom had produced a certain effect upon Porthos. Le Seigneur de Bracieux et de

Pierrefonds delighted to remember that during that memorable dinner the numerous array of servants and the

large number of officials who were in attendance upon the guests gave a certain tone and effect to the repast,

and seemed to furnish the room. Porthos proposed to confer upon Mouston a position of some kind or other,

in order to establish a sort of hierarchy among his domestics, and to create a military household, which was

not unusual among the great captains of the age, since in the preceding century this luxury had been greatly

encouraged by Messieurs de Treville, de Schomberg, de la Vieuville, without alluding to Messieurs de

Richelieu, de Conde, and de BouillonTurenne. And, therefore, why should not he, Porthos, the friend of

the King and of M. Fouquet, a baron, an engineer, etc., why should not he indeed enjoy all the delightful

privileges attached to large possessions and great merit? Somewhat neglected by Aramis, who we know was

greatly occupied with M. Fouquet; neglected also, on account of his being on duty, by d'Artagnan; tired of

Truchen and Planchet, Porthos was surprised to find himself dreaming, without precisely knowing why; but

if any one had said to him, "Do you want anything, Porthos?" he would most certainly have replied, "Yes."

After one of those dinners, during which Porthos attempted to recall to his mind all the details of the royal

banquet, half joyful, thanks to the excellence of the wines; half melancholy, thanks to his ambitious ideas,

Porthos was gradually falling off into a gentle doze, when his servant entered to announce that M. de

Bragelonne wished to speak to him. Porthos passed into an adjoining room, where he found his young friend

in the disposition of mind of which we are already aware. Raoul advanced towards Porthos, and shook him

by the hand. Porthos, surprised at his seriousness of aspect, offered him a seat.

"Nothing could happen more fortunately, my young friend," replied Porthos. "I have had eight thousand

"So much the worse, then. I have always heard it said that that is the rarest service, but the easiest to render.

"Well, if such excellent fish and meat were not to be procured there, it would hardly be endurable."

"I am listening. Only allow me to take something to drink. One gets thirsty in Paris"; and Porthos ordered a

bottle of champagne to be brought. Then, having first filled Raoul's glass, he filled his own, took a large

draught, and resumed: "I needed that, in order to listen to you with proper attention. I am now quite at your

"My opinion? Well but Explain your idea a little," replied Porthos, rubbing his forehead.

"I mean, are you generally of accommodating disposition whenever any misunderstanding arises between

"That all lost time is irreparable, and that one never arranges an affair so well as when the dispute is still

"Thoroughly; so, as soon as a quarrel takes place, I bring the two parties together."

"You understand that by this means it is impossible for an affair not to be arranged."

"I should have thought," said Raoul, with astonishment, "that, treated in this manner, an affair would, on the

"Oh, not the least in the world! Just fancy now! I have had in my life something like a hundred and eighty to

a hundred and ninety regular duels, without reckoning hasty encounters or chance meetings."

"A mere nothing; but I am so gentle. D'Artagnan reckons his duels by hundreds. It is very true he is a little

"And so," resumed Raoul, "you generally arrange the affairs of honor your friends confide to you."

"There is not a single instance in which I have not finished by arranging every one of them," said Porthos,

"Oh, rely upon that! And at this stage I will explain my other principle to you. As soon as my friend has

confided his quarrel to me, this is what I do: I go to his adversary at once, armed with a politeness and

"That is the way, then," said Raoul, bitterly, "that you arrange the affairs so safely?"

"I believe so. I go to the adversary, then, and say to him, 'It is impossible, Monsieur, that you are ignorant of

"It sometimes happens, very often indeed," pursued Porthos, "that my friend has not been insulted at all; he

has even been the first to give offence. You can imagine, therefore, whether my language is not well chosen";

"Decidedly," said Raoul to himself, while the formidable thunder of Porthos's laughter was ringing in his ears'

"I am very unfortunate. De Guiche treats me with coldness, d'Artagnan with ridicule, Porthos is too tame; no

one is ready to 'arrange' this affair in my way. And I came to Porthos because I wished to find a sword instead

Porthos, who had recovered himself, continued: "By a simple expression, I leave my adversary without an

"Not at all; it is quite certain. I have not left him an excuse; and then it is that I display all my courtesy, in

order to attain the happy issue of my project. I advance, therefore, with an air of great politeness, and taking

"'Monsieur,' I say to him, 'now that you are convinced of having given the offence, we are sure of reparation;

between my friend and yourself the future can offer only an exchange of gracious ceremonies. Consequently I

"Wait a minute! 'the length of my friend's sword. My horse is waiting below; my friend is in such and such a

spot, and is impatiently awaiting your agreeable society. I will take you with me; we can call upon your

"And so," said Raoul, pale with vexation, "You reconcile the two adversaries on the ground."

"Well, if he is waiting, it is merely to stretch his legs a little; the adversary, on the contrary, is stiff from

riding. They place themselves in proper order, and my friend kills his opponent; the affair is ended."

"I should think so," said Porthos. "It is likely I should ever have as a friend a man who allows himself to get

killed? I have a hundred and one friends; at the head of the list stand your father, Aramis, and d'Artagnan,

"I approve of it so thoroughly that I shall have recourse to it this very day, without a moment's delay, at

"I know him, a most agreeable man, who was exceedingly polite to me the day I had the honor of dining

with the King. I shall certainly return his politeness, even if that were not my usual custom. So, he has given

"Ah! I forgot. It is a very delicate matter. M. de SaintAignan is a great friend of the King."

"Oh, you will kill him certainly; you must take every precaution to do so! But there is no difficulty in these

"My dear friend, you have not quite understood me. I mean that M. de SaintAignan being a friend of the

King, the affair will be more difficult to manage, since the King might learn beforehand"

"Oh, no; that is not likely. You know my method: 'Monsieur, you have injured my friend, and'"

"And then: 'Monsieur, I have horses below.' I carry him off before he can have spoken to any one."

"I should think so! I should like to see it fail! It would be the first time, if it did. It is true, though, that the

young men of the present day Bah! I would carry him off bodily, if it were necessary"; and Porthos, adding

"Very good," said Raoul, laughing. "All we have to do is to state the grounds of the quarrel to M. de

"No, my dear M. du Vallon, the usage of the present day requires that the cause of the quarrel be explained."

"Deuce take it! See how troublesome this is! In former days we never had any occasion to talk. People fought

then for the sake of fighting; and I, for one, know no better reason than that."

"It is too long a story to tell; only, as one must particularize to some extent"

"As it is necessary, I said, to be specific, and as on the other hand the affair is full of difficulties and requires

"You will have the kindness merely to tell M. de SaintAignan that he has insulted me, in the first place, by

"By changing his lodgings? Good!" said Porthos, who began to count on his fingers; "next?"

"I understand," said Porthos; "a trapdoor! Upon my word, this is very serious; you ought to be furious at that.

What the deuce does the fellow mean by getting trapdoors made without first consulting you? Trapdoors!

"And you will add," said Raoul, "that my last motive for considering myself insulted is the portrait that M. de

"Is it possible? A portrait too! A change of residence, a trapdoor, and a portrait! Why, my dear friend, with

but one of those causes of complaint there is enough, and more than enough, for all the gentlemen in France

"I shall take a second horse with me. Select your own rendezvous; and while you are waiting there you can

practise some of the best passes, so as to get your limbs as elastic as possible."

"Thank you. I shall be waiting for you in the wood of Vincennes, close to Minimes."

Porthos rang a huge handbell. "My court suit," he said to the servant who answered the summons, "my

horse, and a led horse to accompany me." Then turning to Raoul as soon as the servant had quitted the room,

"No, nor d'Artagnan, either. He is very cautious, you know, and might have diverted me from my purpose."

"D'Artagnan is a sound adviser, though," said Porthos, astonished that in his own loyal faith in d'Artagnan

any one could have thought of himself so long as there was a d'Artagnan in the world.

"Dear M. du Vallon," replied Raoul, "do not question me any more, I implore you. I have told you all that I

had to say; it is prompt action that I now expect, as sharp and decided as you know how to arrange it. That,

"Do not forget, either, that except ourselves no one must know anything of this meeting."

"People always find these things out," said Porthos, "when a dead body is discovered in a wood. But I

promise you everything, my dear friend, except concealing the dead body. There it is; and it must be seen, as

a matter of course. It is a principle of mine not to bury bodies. That has a smack of the assassin about it.

"Rely upon me," said the giant, finishing the bottle, while the servant spread out upon a sofa the gorgeously

decorated dress trimmed with lace. Raoul left the room, saying to himself with a secret delight: "Perfidious

King! traitorous monarch! I cannot reach thee. I do not wish it; for the person of a king is sacred. But your

accomplice, your panderer, the coward who represents you, shall pay for your crime. I will kill him in thy

PORTHOS, to his great delight intrusted with this mission, which made him feel young again, took half an

hour less than his usual time to put on his court suit. To show that he was a man acquainted with the usages

of the highest society, he had begun by sending his lackey to inquire if M. de SaintAignan were at home,

and received, in answer, that M. le Comte de SaintAignan had had the honor of accompanying the King to

St. Germain, as well as the whole court, but that Monsieur the Count had just at that moment returned.

Immediately upon this reply, Porthos made haste, and reached De SaintAignan's apartments just as the latter

The expedition had been delightful. The King, who was in love more than ever and of course happier than

ever, had behaved in the most charming manner to every one. Nothing could possibly equal his kindness. M.

de SaintAignan, it may be remembered, was a poet, and fancied that he had proved that he was so under too

many memorable circumstances to allow the title to be disputed by any one. An indefatigable rhymester, he

had during the whole of the journey overwhelmed with quatrains, sextains and madrigals, first the King, and

then La Valliere. The King was, on his side, in a similarly poetical mood, and had made a distich; while La

Valliere, like all women who are in love, had composed two sonnets. As one may see, then, the day had not

been a bad one for Apollo; and therefore, as soon as he had returned to Paris, De SaintAignan, who knew

beforehand that his verses would be extensively circulated in court circles, occupied himself, with a little

more attention than he had been able to bestow during the excursion, with the composition as well as with the

idea itself. Consequently, with all the tenderness of a father about to start his children in life, he candidly

asked himself whether the public would find these fruits of his imagination sufficiently elegant and graceful;

and in order to make his mind easy on the subject, M. de SaintAignan recited to himself the madrigal he had

composed, and which he had repeated from memory to the King, and which he had promised to write out for

This madrigal, graceful as it was, failed to satisfy De SaintAignan when it had passed from oral delivery to

the written form of poetry. Many had thought it charming, its author first of all; but on second view it was

not so pleasing. So De SaintAignan, sitting at his table, with one leg crossed over the other, and rubbing his

"Oh! as to that, now," he murmured, "that is irreproachable. I might even add that it is somewhat in the

manner of Ronsard or Malherbe, which makes me proud. Unhappily, it is not so with the second line. There is

good reason for the saying that the easiest line to make is the first." And he continued:

"Ce que votre pensee a votre coeur confie. Ah, there is the 'thought' confiding in the 'heart'! Why should not

the heart confide with as good reason in the thought? In faith, for my part, I see nothing to hinder. Where the

devil have I been, to bring together these two hemistiches? Now, the third is good,

Iris, pourquoi fautil que je passe ma vie although the rhyme is not strong, vie and confie. My faith! the

Abbe Boyer, who is a great poet, has, like me, made a rhyme of vie and confie in the tragedy of 'Oropaste, or

the False Tonaxare'; without reckoning that M. Corneille did not scruple to do so in his tragedy of

'Sophonisbe.' Good, then, for vie and confie! Yes; but the line is impertinent. I remember now that the King

bit his nail at that moment. In fact, it gives him the appearance of saying to Mademoiselle de la Valliere,

'How does it happen that I am captivated by you?' It would have been better, I think, to say,

Que benis soient les dieux qui condamnent ma vie Condamnent! ah! well, yes, there is a compliment! the

"Mais benis soient les dieux qui destinent ma vie. Not bad, although destinent ma vie is weak; but, good

Heavens! everything can't be strong in a quatrain. A plus aimer vos yeux, in loving more whom, what?

Obscurity. But obscurity is nothing; since La Valliere and the King have understood me, every one will

understand me. Yes; but here is something melancholy, the last hemistich: qui m'ont joue ces tours. The

plural necessitated by the rhyme! And then to call the modesty of La Valliere a trick, that is not happy! I

shall be a byword to all my quilldriving acquaintances. They will say that my poems are verses in the

grandseigneur style; and if the King hears it said that I am a bad poet, he will take it into his head to believe

While confiding these words to his heart and engaging his heart in these thoughts, the count was undressing

himself. He had just taken off his coat, and was putting on his dressinggown, when he was informed that M.

"It is the same gentleman," replied the lackey, "who had the honor of dining with you, Monseigneur, at the

"With the King, at Fontainebleau?" cried De SaintAignan. "Eh! quick, quick! introduce that gentleman."

The lackey hastened to obey. Porthos entered. M. de SaintAignan had an excellent recollection of persons,

and at the first glance he recognized the gentleman from the country who enjoyed so singular a reputation,

and whom the King had received so favorably at Fontainebleau, in spite of the smiles of some of those who

were present. He therefore advanced towards Porthos with all outward signs of goodwill, which Porthos

thought but natural, considering that he himself, whenever he called upon an adversary, hoisted the standard

of the most refined politeness. De SaintAignan desired the servant to give Porthos a chair; and the latter,

who saw nothing unusual in this act of politeness, sat down gravely, and coughed.

The ordinary courtesies having been exchanged between the two gentlemen, the count, since to him the visit

was paid, said, "May I ask, Monsieur the Baron, to what happy circumstance I owe the favor of your visit?"

"The very thing I am about to have the honor of explaining to you, Monsieur the Count; but, I beg your

"It is the fact, though, Monsieur the Count; I have broken it, so much so, indeed, that if I remain in it I shall

fall down, which would be an exceedingly disagreeable position for me in the discharge of the very serious

Porthos rose; and but just in time, for the chair had given way several inches. De SaintAignan looked about

"Modern articles of furniture," said Porthos, while the count was looking about, "are constructed in a

ridiculously light manner. In my early days, when I used to sit down with far more energy than now, I do not

remember ever to have broken a chair, except in taverns, with my arms." De SaintAignan smiled at this

remark. "But," said Porthos, as he settled himself on a couch, which creaked but did not give way beneath his

"Why unfortunately? Are you the bearer of a message of ill omen, Monsieur the Baron?"

"Of ill omen, for a gentleman? Certainly not, Monsieur the Count," replied Porthos, nobly. "I have simply

"I, Monsieur?" exclaimed De SaintAignan, "I have offended a friend of yours, do you say? May I ask his

"I have offended M. Raoul de Bragelonne!" cried De SaintAignan. "I really assure you, Monsieur, that it is

quite impossible; for M. de Bragelonne, whom I know but very slightly, nay, whom I know hardly at all, is

in England; and as I have not seen him for a long time past, I cannot possibly have offended him."

"M. de Bragelonne is in Paris, Monsieur the Count," said Porthos, perfectly unmoved; "and I repeat, it is

quite certain you have offended him, since he himself told me you had. Yes, Monsieur, you have seriously

"Besides," added Porthos, "you cannot be ignorant of the circumstance, since M. de Bragelonne informed me

"I will convince you," said De SaintAignan, "that I have received nothing in any way from him"; and he

rang the bell. "Basque," he said to the servant who entered, "how many letters or notes were sent here during

"Three, Monsieur the Count, a note from M. de Fiesque, one from Madame de Laferte, and a letter from M.

"Speak the truth before this gentleman, the truth, you understand! I will take care you are not blamed."

"That is quite sufficient," interrupted Porthos. "I believe you, Monsieur the Count."

De SaintAignan dismissed the valet and followed him to the door in order to close it after him; and when he

had done so, looking straight before him, he happened to see in the keyhole of the adjoining apartment the

paper which Bragelonne had slipped in there as he left. "What is this?" he said.

Porthos, who was sitting with his back to the room, turned round. "Oh, oh!" he said.

De SaintAignan took out the paper. "A note from M. de Bragelonne!" he exclaimed.

"Brought here by M. de Bragelonne himself," the count murmured, turning pale. "This is infamous! How

"No one could possibly have entered, Monsieur; since I kept the keys in my own pocket."

"And yet I find this letter in that lock yonder. Some one must have put it there; it could not have come alone."

Basque opened his arms, as if signifying the most absolute ignorance on the subject.

"How could that have been, since I have the key in my own pocket?" returned Basque, perseveringly.

Porthos left him to his reflections; but after a while returned to the mission he had undertaken. "Shall we

return to our little affair?" he said, addressing De SaintAignan, as soon as the lackey had disappeared.

"I think I can now understand it, from this note which has arrived here in so singular a manner. M. de

"In what way, may I ask? for his conduct is so mysterious that it at least needs some explanation."

"Monsieur," replied Porthos, "my friend cannot but be right; and so far as his conduct is concerned, if it be

Porthos pronounced these words with an amount of confidence which for a man who was unaccustomed to

"You will think it best, perhaps," Porthos replied, with a low bow, "that I do not enter into particulars, and for

"Oh, I perfectly understand you! We will touch very lightly upon it, then. So speak, Monsieur; I am

"In the first place, Monsieur," said Porthos, "you have changed your apartments."

"But how can my having moved my lodgings have done M. de Bragelonne any harm? Have the goodness to

tell me that, for I positively do not comprehend a word of what you are saying."

Porthos stopped him, and then said with great gravity: "Monsieur, this is the first of M. de Bragelonne's

complaints against you. If he makes a complaint, it is because he feels himself insulted."

De SaintAignan began to beat his foot impatiently on the floor. "This looks like a bad quarrel," he said.

"No one can possibly have a bad quarrel with the Vicomte de Bragelonne," returned Porthos; "but, at all

events, you have nothing to add on the subject of your changing your apartments, I suppose?"

"Ah, the next! You will observe, Monsieur, that the one I have already mentioned is a most serious injury, to

which you have given no answer, or rather have answered very indifferently. So, Monsieur, you change your

lodgings; that offends M. de Bragelonne, and you do not attempt to excuse yourself? Very well!"

"What!" cried De SaintAignan, who was irritated by the coolness of his visitor, "what! Am I to consult M.

de Bragelonne whether I am to move or not? You can hardly be serious, Monsieur."

"Absolutely necessary, Monsieur; but, under any circumstances, you will admit that it is nothing in

Porthos assumed a very serious expression as he said, "How about the trapdoor, Monsieur?"

De SaintAignan turned exceedingly pale. He pushed back his chair so abruptly that Porthos, simple as he

De SaintAignan held down his head. "Oh, I have been betrayed," he murmured; "everything is known!"

"You see me overwhelmed," pursued De SaintAignan, "overwhelmed to such a degree that I hardly know

"Oh, Monsieur!" exclaimed the count, hurriedly, "such a secret ought not to be known, even by one's

"That we will think about," said Porthos; "the secret will not go far, in fact."

"But, Monsieur," returned De SaintAignan, "is M. de Bragelonne, in penetrating the secret, aware of the

"M. de Bragelonne incurs no danger, Monsieur, nor does he fear any either, as you, if it please Heaven, will

"This fellow is a perfect madman," thought De SaintAignan. "What, in Heaven's name, does he want?" He

"You forget the portrait!" said Porthos, in a voice of thunder, which made the count's blood freeze in his

As the portrait in question was La Valliere's portrait, and as no mistake could any longer exist on the subject,

De SaintAignan's eyes were completely opened. "Ah," he exclaimed, "ah, Monsieur, I remember now that

Porthos assumed an imposing air all the majesty of ignorance, in fact as he said: "It matters nothing

whatever to me, nor to yourself indeed, whether or not my friend was, as you say, engaged to be married. I

am even astonished that you should have made use of so indiscreet a remark. It may possibly do your cause

"Monsieur," replied De SaintAignan, "you are the incarnation of intelligence, delicacy, and loyalty of

"And," pursued De SaintAignan, "you have made me comprehend it in the most ingenious and the most

delicate manner possible. Thank you, Monsieur, thank you." Porthos drew himself up. "Only, now that I

Porthos shook his head as a man who does not wish to hear; but De SaintAignan continued: "I am in

despair, I assure you, at all that has happened; but how would you have acted in my place? Come, between

Porthos raised his head. "There is no question at all of what I should have done, young man; you have now,"

he said, "been made acquainted with the three causes of complaint against you, I believe?"

"As for the first, my change of rooms, and I now address myself to you, as a man of honor and of great

intelligence, could I, when the desire of so august a personage was so urgently expressed that I should

Porthos was about to speak, but De SaintAignan did not give him time to answer. "Ah! my frankness, I see,

convinces you," he said, interpreting the movement in his own interest. "You perceive that I am right?"

Porthos did not reply. De SaintAignan continued: "I pass to that unfortunate trapdoor," placing his hand on

Porthos's arm, "that trapdoor, the occasion and the means of so much unhappiness, and which was

constructed for you know what. Well, then, in plain truth, do you suppose that it was I who, of my own

accord, in such a place too, had that trapdoor made? Oh, no! you do not believe it; and here, again, you feel,

you guess, you understand the influence of a will superior to my own. You can conceive the infatuation, I

do not speak of love, that madness irresistible! But, thank Heaven! happily the affair is with a man who has

so much sensitiveness of feeling. If it were not so, indeed, what an amount of misery and scandal would fall

Porthos, confused and bewildered by the eloquence and gestures of De SaintAignan, made a thousand

efforts to stem this torrent of words, of which, by the by, he did not understand a single one; he remained

De SaintAignan continued, and gave a new inflection to his voice, and an increasing vehemence to his

gesture: "As for the portrait, for I readily believe the portrait is the principal cause of complaint, tell me

candidly if you think me to blame? Who was it that wished to have her portrait? Was it I? Who is in love with

her? Is it I? Who desires her? Who has won her? Is it I? No, a thousand times no! I know M. de Bragelonne

must be in a state of despair; I know these misfortunes are most cruel. But I, too, am suffering as well; and

yet there is no possibility of offering any resistance. If he struggles, he will be derided; if he resists, he is lost.

You will tell me, I know, that despair is madness; but you are reasonable, you have understood me. I

perceive by your serious, thoughtful, embarrassed air, even, that the importance of the situation in which we

are placed has not escaped you. Return, therefore, to M. de Bragelonne; thank him as I have indeed reason

to thank him for having chosen as an intermediary a man of your merit. Believe me that I shall, on my side,

preserve an eternal gratitude for the man who has so ingeniously, so cleverly corrected the misunderstanding

between us. And since illluck would have it that the secret should be known to four instead of to three, why,

this secret, which might make the most ambitious man's fortune, I am delighted to share with you, Monsieur;

from the bottom of my heart I am delighted at it. From this very moment you can make use of me as you

please; I place myself entirely at your mercy. What can I possibly do for you? What can I solicit, nay, require

According to the familiarly friendly fashion of that period, De SaintAignan threw his arms round Porthos,

and clasped him tenderly in his embrace. Porthos allowed him to do this with the most complete indifference.

"Monsieur," said Porthos, "I have a horse below; be good enough to mount him. He is a very good one, and

"Mount on horseback! What for?" inquired De SaintAignan, with no little curiosity.

"Ah! he wishes to speak to me, I suppose? I can well believe that; he wishes to have the details, very likely.

Alas! it is a very delicate matter; but at the present moment I cannot, for the King is waiting for me."

"I don't think it likely, not I, at least"; and the face of Porthos assumed a stern hardness of expression. "The

Porthos slowly drew his sword, and said, "That is the length of my friend's sword."

The color mounted to Porthos's face, as he replied: "If I had not the honor of being in your own apartment,

Monsieur, and of representing M. de Bragelonne's interests, I would throw you out of the window. It will be

merely a pleasure postponed, and you will lose nothing by waiting. Will you come to the Minimes,

"Basque!" cried M. de SaintAignan. As soon as Basque appeared, he said, "The King wishes to see

"That is very different," said Porthos; "the King's service before everything else. We will wait there until this

evening, Monsieur." And saluting De SaintAignan with his usual courtesy, Porthos left the room, delighted

De SaintAignan looked after him as he left; and then hastily putting on his coat again, he ran off, arranging

his dress as he went along, muttering to himself: "The Minimes! the Minimes! We will see how the King will

ON HIS return from the ride which had been so prolific in poetical effusions, and in which everyone had paid

tribute to the Muses, as the poets of the period used to say, the King found M. Fouquet waiting for an

audience. Behind the King came M. Colbert, who had met the King in the corridor, as if on the watch for

him, and followed him like a jealous and watchful shadow, M. Colbert, with his square head, and his vulgar

and untidy though rich costume, which gave him some resemblance to a Flemish gentleman after drinking

beer. Fouquet, at the sight of his enemy, remained unmoved, and during the whole of the scene which

followed observed that line of conduct so difficult to a man of refinement whose heart is filled with contempt,

but who wishes to suppress every indication of it, lest he may do his adversary too much honor. Colbert did

not conceal his insolent joy. In his opinion, M. Fouquet's was a game very badly played and hopelessly lost,

although not yet finished. Colbert belonged to that school of politicians who think cleverness alone worthy of

their admiration, and success the only thing worth caring for. Colbert, moreover, who was not simply an

envious and jealous man, but who had the King's interest really at heart, because he was thoroughly imbued

with the highest sense of probity in all matters of figures and accounts, could well afford to assign as a pretext

for his conduct, that in hating and doing his utmost to ruin M. Fouquet he had nothing in view but the welfare

None of these details escaped Fouquet's observation. Through his enemy's thick, bushy brows, and despite the

restless movement of his eyelids, he could, by merely looking at his eyes, penetrate to the very bottom of

Colbert's heart; he saw, then, all there was in that heart, hatred and triumph. But as he wished, while

observing everything, to remain himself impenetrable, he composed his features, smiled with that charmingly

sympathetic smile which was peculiarly his own, and saluted the King with the most dignified and graceful

ease and elasticity of manner. "Sire," he said, "I perceive by your Majesty's joyous air that you have had a

"Charming, indeed, Monsieur the Superintendent, charming! You were very wrong not to come with us as I

"I was working, Sire," replied the superintendent, who did not take the trouble to turn aside his head even in

"Ah! M. Fouquet," cried the King, "there is nothing like the country. I should be delighted to live in the

"Your Majesty gratifies my utmost wishes in speaking in that manner, for I have a request to submit to you."

"The fete at Vaux, the celebrated fete, is it not, Sire?" said Colbert, endeavoring to show his importance by

Fouquet, with the profoundest contempt, did not take the slightest notice of the remark, as if, so far as he was

concerned, Colbert had not spoken. "Your Majesty is aware," he said, "that I destine my estate at Vaux to

"I have given you my promise, Monsieur," said Louis XIV, smiling; "and a King never departs from his

"And I have come now, Sire, to inform your Majesty that I am ready to obey your orders in every respect."

"Do you promise me many wonders, Monsieur the Superintendent?" said Louis, looking at Colbert.

"Wonders? Oh, no, Sire! I do not undertake that; but I hope to be able to procure your Majesty a little

"Nay, nay, M. Fouquet," returned the King; "I insist upon the word 'wonders.' Oh, you are a magician! We

know your power; we know that you could find gold, even were there none in the world. And, in fact, people

Fouquet felt that the shot was discharged from a double quiver, and that the King had launched an arrow from

his own bow as well as one from Colbert's. "Oh!" said he, laughingly, "the people know perfectly well out of

what mine I procure the gold; they know it only too well, perhaps. Besides," he added proudly, "I can assure

your Majesty that the gold destined to pay the expenses of the fete at Vaux will cost neither blood nor tears;

Louis remained silent; he wished to look at Colbert. Colbert, too, wished to reply; but a glance as swift as an

eagle's, a proud, loyal, kinglike glance, indeed, which Fouquet darted at the latter, arrested the words

upon his lips. The King, who had by this time recovered his selfpossession, turned towards Fouquet, saying,

"You speak like an enchanter who improvises, M. Fouquet. I could not say so much, indeed."

"Your Majesty will do, whenever you please, everything that a monarch can and ought to do. The King of

France has servants at his bidding who are able to do anything on his behalf, to accomplish everything to

Colbert tried to look at the superintendent in order to see whether this remark was an approach to less hostile

sentiments on his part. But Fouquet had not even looked at his enemy; so far as he was concerned, Colbert

"This is Tuesday; if I give you until next Sunday week, will that be sufficient?"

"The delay which your Majesty deigns to accord me will greatly aid the various works which my architects

have in hand for the purpose of adding to the amusement of your Majesty and your friends."

"By the by, speaking of my friends," resumed the King; "how do you intend to treat them?"

"The King is master everywhere, Sire; your Majesty will draw up your own list and give your own orders. All

"I thank you!" returned the King, touched by the noble thought expressed in so noble a tone.

Fouquet therefore took leave of Louis XIV, after a few words had been added with regard to the details of

certain matters of business. He felt that Colbert would remain behind with the King, that they would both

converse about him, and that neither of them would spare him in the least degree. The satisfaction of being

able to give a last and terrible blow to his enemy seemed to him almost like a compensation for everything to

which they were about to subject him. He turned back again immediately, when he had already reached the

"A fault! You! Ah, M. Fouquet, I shall be unable to do otherwise than forgive you. In what way or against

"Against all propriety, Sire. I forgot to inform your Majesty of a circumstance of considerable importance."

Colbert trembled; he expected a denunciation. His conduct had been unmasked. A single syllable from

Fouquet, a single proof formally advanced, and before the youthful loyalty of Louis XIV Colbert's favor

would disappear at once. The latter trembled, therefore, lest so daring a blow might not overthrow his whole

scaffold. In point of fact, the opportunity was so admirably suited to be taken advantage of, that a skilful

player like Aramis would not have let it slip. "Sire," said Fouquet, with an easy air, "since you have had the

kindness to forgive me, I am indifferent about my confession: this morning I sold one of the official

Colbert turned livid. "That which conferred upon me, Sire, a grand gown and an air of gravity, the

The King involuntarily uttered a loud exclamation and looked at Colbert, who with his face bedewed with

perspiration felt almost on the point of fainting. "To whom have you sold this appointment, M. Fouquet?"

"A friend of the intendant Colbert," added Fouquet, letting every word fall from his lips with inimitable

nonchalance, and with an admirably assumed expression of forgetfulness and ignorance which neither

painter, actor, nor poet could reproduce with brush, gesture, or pen. Then having finished, having

overwhelmed Colbert beneath the weight of this superiority, the superintendent again saluted the King and

quitted the room, partially revenged by the stupefaction of the King and the humiliation of the favorite.

"Is it really possible," said the King, as soon as Fouquet had disappeared, "that he has sold that office?"

Colbert this time did not reply; he had penetrated the King's thought. That thought promised him revenge. His

hatred was augmented by jealousy; and a threat of disgrace was now added to the plan he had arranged for his

ruin. Colbert felt assured that for the future, as between Louis XIV and himself, his hostile ideas would meet

with no obstacles, and that at the first fault committed by Fouquet which could be laid hold of as a pretext,

the chastisement impending over him would be precipitated. Fouquet had thrown aside his weapons of

Colbert was invited by the King to the fete at Vaux; he bowed like a man confident in himself, and accepted

the invitation with the air of one who confers a favor. The King was about writing down De SaintAignan's

name on his list of invitations, when the usher announced the Comte de SaintAignan. As soon as the royal

DE SAINTAIGNAN had quitted Louis XIV hardly two hours before; but in the first effervescence of his

affection, whenever Louis XIV did not see La Valliere he was obliged to talk of her. Now, the only person

with whom he could speak about her at his ease was De SaintAignan, and that person had therefore become

"Ah! is that you, Count?" the King exclaimed, as soon as he perceived him, doubly delighted, not only to

see him again, but also to get rid of Colbert, whose scowling face always put him out of humor, "so much

the better. I am very glad to see you; you will make one of the travellingparty, I suppose?"

"The one we are making up to go to the fete the superintendent is about to give at Vaux. Ah! De

SaintAignan, you will at last see a fete, a royal fete, by the side of which all our amusements at

"At Vaux? the superintendent going to give a fete in your Majesty's honor? Nothing more than that!"

"'Nothing more than that!' do you say? It is very diverting to find you treating it with so much disdain. Are

you, who express such indifference on the subject, aware that as soon as it is known that M. Fouquet is going

to receive me at Vaux next Sunday week, people will be striving their very utmost to get invited to the fete? I

"Very well, Sire; unless I shall in the mean time have undertaken a longer and less agreeable journey."

"No, seriously, Sire," replied De SaintAignan, "I am invited there; and in such a way, in truth, that I hardly

"I do not understand you. I know that you are in a poetical vein; but try not to sink from Apollo to Phoebus."

"Very well; if your Majesty will deign to listen to me, I will not keep you in suspense any longer."

"Yes, indeed, a good servant to my father, the late King, and an admirable companion at table; for I think

"Precisely; but you have omitted to add to his other qualifications, Sire, that he is a most charming killer of

"Of course! Answer me as candidly as if it were some one else's affair instead of your own, my poor De

"To him, personally, nothing at all; but it seems I have to one of his friends."

"In that case your Majesty will immediately sign my adversary's pardon, for he is now waiting for me at the

"The Vicomte de Bragelonne!" exclaimed the King, changing from a fit of laughter to the most profound

stupor; and then after a moment's silence, while he wiped his forehead, which was bedewed with perspiration,

"He is at the Minimes, Sire, where he is waiting for me, as I have already had the honor of telling you."

"Yes; and many things besides. Perhaps your Majesty would like to look at the letter I have received from

him"; and De Saint Aignan drew from his pocket the note with which we are already acquainted. "When your

"Well, Sire; your Majesty knows a certain carved lock, closing a certain door of ebonywood, which

"Yes, Sire. Well, it was in the keyhole of that lock that I found that note. Who placed it there? Either M. de

Bragelonne, or the devil himself; but inasmuch as the note smells of amber and not of sulphur, I conclude that

Louis bent down his head, and seemed absorbed in sad and melancholy reflections. Perhaps something like

remorse was at that moment passing through his heart. "Oh!" he said, "that secret discovered!"

"Sire, I shall do my utmost that the secret dies in the breast of the man who possesses it," said De

SaintAignan, in a tone of bravado, as he moved towards the door; but a gesture of the King made him pause.

"You fight!" exclaimed the King. "One moment, if you please, Monsieur the Count!"

De SaintAignan shook his head, as a rebellious child does whenever any one interferes to prevent him from

"In the first place," continued the King, "I require to be enlightened a little."

"Upon that point, if your Majesty will be pleased to interrogate me," replied De SaintAignan, "I will throw

"Ah! that is very serious, inasmuch as all the doors were closed, and my lackey, Basque, had the keys in his

"Impossible, Sire; for if he had been bribed, those who did so would not have sacrificed the poor fellow,

whom it is not unlikely they might want to turn to further use by and by, in showing so clearly that it was he

"Because there are certain persons, Sire, who being above the price of a treason give, and do not sell."

"Oh, Sire, your Majesty's mind is too clearsighted not to guess what I mean, and you will save me the

"Madame, who has keys of the apartments of her maids of honor, and is powerful enough to discover what no

"And you suppose, then, that my sister has entered into an alliance with Bragelonne?"

"You think it impossible, Sire? Well, listen to me! Your Majesty knows that Madame is very fond of

The King remained silent and thoughtful for a few moments, and then resumed: "But why should Madame

take Bragelonne's part against me?" De SaintAignan could very easily have replied: "A woman's jealousy!"

In his question the King had probed his friend to the bottom of his heart to ascertain if he had learned the

secret of his flirtation with his sisterinlaw. But De SaintAignan was not an ordinary courtier; he did not

lightly run the risk of finding out family secrets; and he was too good a friend of the Muses not to think very

frequently of poor Ovidius Naso, whose eyes shed so many tears in expiation of his crime for having once

beheld something, one hardly knows what, in the palace of Augustus. He therefore passed by Madame's

secret very skilfully. But since he had exhibited his sagacity in proving Madame's presence in his rooms with

Bragelonne, it was now necessary for him to pay interest on that selfconceit, and reply clearly to the

"Why?" replied De SaintAignan. "Your Majesty forgets, I presume, that the Comte de Guiche is the

"Ah! I beg your pardon then, Sire; but I thought the Comte de Guiche was a very great friend of Madame."

"Quite true," the King returned. "There is no occasion to search any further; the blow came from that

"And is not your Majesty of the opinion that in order to ward it off it will be necessary to deal another blow?"

"Yes; but not one of the kind given in the Bois de Vincennes," replied the King.

"You forget, Sire," said De SaintAignan, "that I am a gentleman, and that I have been challenged."

"But it is I who have been expected at the Minimes, Sire, during the last hour and more; and I shall be

"Besides, I wish to have the whole of this affair explained; I wish to know how it is that I have been so

insolently trifled with as to have the sanctuary of my affection pried into. It is not you, De SaintAignan, who

ought to punish those who have acted in this manner; for it is not your honor they have attacked, but my

"I implore your Majesty not to overwhelm M. de Bragelonne with your wrath; for although in the whole of

this affair he may have shown himself deficient in prudence, he has not been so in his feelings of loyalty."

"Enough! I shall know how to decide between the just and the unjust, even in the height of my anger. But

"But what am I to do with regard to M. de Bragelonne? He will be seeking me in every direction, and"

"I shall either have spoken to him, or taken care that he has been spoken to before the evening is over."

"I have been indulgent long enough, Count," said Louis XIV, frowning; "it is time to show certain persons

The King had hardly pronounced these words, which betokened that a fresh feeling of dissatisfaction was

mingled with the remembrance of an old one, when the usher appeared at the door of the cabinet. "What is

the matter," inquired the King, "and why do you presume to come when I have not summoned you?"

"Sire," said the usher, "your Majesty desired me to permit M. le Comte de la Fere to pass freely at any time

The King and De SaintAignan at this reply exchanged a look which betrayed more uneasiness than surprise.

Louis hesitated for a moment, but almost immediately forming a resolution, he said: "Go, De SaintAignan,

and find Louise; inform her of the plot against us. Do not let her be ignorant that Madame is beginning again

her persecutions, and that she has set to work those who would have done better had they remained neutral."

"If Louise gets nervous and frightened, reassure her; tell her that the King's love is an impenetrable shield

over her. If, as I suspect is the case, she already knows everything, or if she has already been herself

subjected to an attack, tell her, be sure to tell her, De SaintAignan," added the King, trembling with

passion, "tell her, I say, that this time, instead of defending her, I will avenge her, and that too so terribly

"Yes; all. Go quickly, and remain faithful, you who live in the midst of this hell without having, like myself,

De SaintAignan almost exhausted himself in protestations of devotion, took the King's hand, kissed it, and

THE King endeavored to recover his selfpossession as quickly as possible, in order to meet M. de la Fere

with an undisturbed countenance. He clearly saw that it was not mere chance which had induced the count's

visit. He had a vague impression of the serious import of that visit; but he felt that to a man of Athos's tone of

mind, to a person so distinguished, nothing disagreeable or disordered should be presented. As soon as the

King had satisfied himself that so far as appearances were concerned he was perfectly calm again, he gave

A few minutes afterwards Athos, in full court dress and with his breast covered with the orders that he alone

had the right to wear at the Court of France, presented himself with so grave and solemn an air that the King

perceived at the first glance that he had not been mistaken in his anticipations. Louis advanced a step towards

the count, and with a smile held out his hand to him, over which Athos bowed with the air of the deepest

"M. le Comte de la Fere," said the King, rapidly, "you are so seldom here that it is a very great happiness to

Athos bowed and replied, "I should wish always to enjoy the happiness of being near your Majesty."

That reply, made in that tone, evidently signified, "I should wish to be one of your Majesty's advisers, to save

you from the commission of faults." The King so understood it, and determined in this man's presence to

"Had it not been so, I should not have presumed to present myself before your Majesty."

"Speak quickly; I am anxious to satisfy you," returned the King, seating himself.

"I am persuaded," replied Athos, in a slightly agitated tone of voice, "that your Majesty will give me every

"Ah!" said the King, with a certain haughtiness of manner, "you have come to lodge a complaint here, then?"

"It would be a complaint," returned Athos, "only in the event of your Majesty But if you will deign to

"Your Majesty will remember that at the period of the Duke of Buckingham's departure I had the honor of an

"At or about that period I think I remember you did; only, with regard to the subject of the conversation, I

Athos started, as he replied: "I shall have the honor to recall it to your Majesty. It was with regard to a

demand which I addressed to you respecting a marriage which M. de Bragelonne wished to contract with

"At that period," pursued Athos, "your Majesty was so kind and generous towards M. de Bragelonne and

myself that not a single word which then fell from your lips has escaped my memory; and when I asked your

Majesty to accord me Mademoiselle de la Valliere's hand for M. de Bragelonne, you refused."

"Alleging," Athos hastened to say, "that the young lady had no position in society."

This last bolt buried itself deep in the King's heart, and made him almost bound from his seat.

"I invariably have, on all occasions when I have had the distinguished honor of an interview with your

"And I thanked your Majesty, because those words testified an interest in M. de Bragelonne, which did him

"And you may possibly remember," said the King, very deliberately, "that you had the greatest repugnance to

"And, finally, I remember also, for I have a memory nearly as good as your own, I remember, I say, that

you observed at the time: 'I do not believe that Mademoiselle de la Valliere loves M. de Bragelonne.' Is that

The blow told well, but Athos did not shrink. "Sire," he said, "I have already begged your Majesty's

forgiveness; but there are certain particulars in that conversation which will be intelligible in the

"This: your Majesty then said that you would defer the marriage out of regard for M. de Bragelonne's own

"M. de Bragelonne is now so exceedingly unhappy that he cannot any longer defer asking your Majesty for a

"And what," said the King, with considerable hesitation, "does M. de Bragelonne request?"

"Precisely the very thing that I came to ask your Majesty for at my last audience; namely, your Majesty's

"The obstacles in the way are all now quite removed for us," continued Athos. "Mademoiselle de la Valliere,

without fortune, birth, or beauty, is not the less on that account the only good match in the world for M. de

"Does your Majesty hesitate?" inquired the count, without losing a particle either of his firmness or his

Athos paused a moment, as if to collect himself. "I have had the honor," he said in a mild tone, "to observe to

your Majesty that no obstacle now interferes with M. de Bragelonne's affections, and that his determination

"There is my will, and that is an obstacle, I should imagine!" "That is the most serious of all," Athos replied

"And may we therefore be permitted to ask your Majesty, with the greatest humility, for your reason for this

The King, leaning with both his hands upon the table, said in a deep tone of concentrated passion: "You have

lost all recollection of what is usual at court. At court no one questions the King."

"Almost always the conjecture of the subject impugns the frankness of the King."

"And a want of confidence on the part of the subject," pursued Athos, intrepidly.

"You are forgetting yourself," said the King, hurried away by his anger in spite of his control over himself.

"Sire, I am obliged to seek elsewhere for what I thought I should find in your Majesty. Instead of obtaining a

The King rose. "Monsieur the Count," he said, "I have now given you all the time I had at my disposal."

"Sire," replied the count, "I have not yet had time to tell your Majesty what I came with the express object of

saying, and I so rarely see your Majesty that I ought to avail myself of the opportunity."

"Oh, Sire, offend your Majesty! I? Never! All my life have I maintained that kings are above all other men,

not only in rank and power, but in nobleness of heart and dignity of mind. I never can bring myself to believe

that my sovereign he who passed his word to me did so with a mental reservation."

"I will explain my meaning," said Athos, coldly. "If in refusing Mademoiselle de la Valliere to M. de

Bragelonne your Majesty had some other object in view than the happiness and fortune of the viscount"

"If in requiring the viscount to delay his marriage your Majesty's only object was to remove the gentleman to

"I have heard it said so in every direction, Sire. Your Majesty's love for Mademoiselle de la Valliere is

The King tore his gloves, which he had been biting for some time. "Woe to those," he cried, "who interfere in

The King stopped short, like a runaway horse whose bit being turned in his mouth bruises his palate. "I love

Mademoiselle de la Valliere," he said suddenly, with nobleness and with passion.

"But," interrupted Athos, "that does not preclude your Majesty from allowing M. de Bragelonne to marry

Mademoiselle de la Valliere. The sacrifice is worthy of so great a monarch; it is fully merited by M. de

Bragelonne, who has already rendered great service to your Majesty, and who may well be regarded as a

brave and worthy man. Your Majesty, therefore, in renouncing the affection you entertain, offers a proof at

"Mademoiselle de la Valliere does not love M. de Bragelonne," said the King, hoarsely.

"Does your Majesty know that to be the case?" remarked Athos, with a searching look.

"Within a short time, then; for doubtless had your Majesty known it when I first preferred my request, you

Athos remained silent for a moment, and then resumed: "In that case I do not understand why your Majesty

should have sent M. de Bragelonne to London. That exile, and with good reason, is a matter of astonishment

"The King's honor, Sire, is made up of the honor of his whole nobility. Whenever the King offends one of his

gentlemen, that is, whenever he deprives him of the smallest particle of his honor, it is from him, from the

"Sire, you sent M. de Bragelonne to London either before you were Mademoiselle de la Valliere's lover or

The King, irritated beyond measure, especially because he felt that he was mastered, endeavored to dismiss

"Sire," replied the count, "I will tell you all; I will not leave your presence until I have been satisfied either by

your Majesty or by myself, satisfied if you prove to me that you are right, satisfied if I prove to you that you

are wrong. Oh, you will listen to me, Sire! I am old now, and I am attached to everything that is really great

and true in your kingdom. I am a gentleman who shed my blood for your father and for yourself, without ever

having asked a single favor either from yourself or from your father. I have never inflicted the slightest wrong

or injury on any one in this world, and have put kings under obligations to me. You will listen to me. I have

come to ask you for an account of the honor of one of your servants whom you have deceived by a falsehood

or betrayed through weakness. I know that these words irritate your Majesty; but on the other hand, the facts

are killing us. I know you are inquiring what penalty you will inflict for my frankness; but I know what

punishment I will implore God to inflict upon you when I set before him your perjury and my son's

The King during these remarks was walking hurriedly to and fro, his hand thrust into the breast of his coat,

his head haughtily raised, his eyes blazing with wrath. "Monsieur," he cried suddenly, "if I acted towards you

as the King, you would be already punished; but I am only a man, and I have the right to love in this world

"You cannot pretend to such a right as a man any more than as a king, Sire; or if you intended to exercise that

right in a loyal manner, you should have told M. de Bragelonne so, and not have exiled him."

"I think I am condescending to dispute with you, Monsieur!" interrupted Louis XIV, with that majesty of air

"You already know my thoughts on the subject," was the Comte de la Fere's answer.

"You have forgotten you are destroying the lives of two men, Sire. It is a mortal sin."

"Not until I have said to you: Son of Louis XIII, you begin your reign badly, for you begin it by abduction

and disloyalty! My race myself, too are now freed from all that affection and respect towards you to which

I bound my son by oath in the vaults of St. Denis, in the presence of the relics of your noble forefathers. You

are now become our enemy, Sire; and henceforth we have nothing to do save with Heaven, our sole master.

"Oh, no!" said Athos, sadly; "I have as little bravado as fear in my soul. The God of whom I spoke to you is

now listening to me. He knows that for the safety and honor of your crown I would even yet shed every drop

of blood which twenty years of civil and foreign warfare have left in my veins. I can well say, then, that I

threaten the King as little as I threaten the man; but I tell you, Sire, you lose two servants, for you have

destroyed faith in the heart of the father, and love in the heart of the son: the one ceases to believe in the royal

word, the other no longer believes in the loyalty of man or the purity of woman; the one is dead to every

Thus saying, Athos broke his sword across his knee, slowly placed the two pieces upon the floor, and saluting

Louis, who sat near the table, completely overwhelmed, spent several minutes in recovering himself, then

suddenly rose and rang the bell violently. "Tell M. d'Artagnan to come here," he said to the terrified ushers.

OUR readers will doubtless have been asking themselves how it happened that Athos, of whom not a word

has been said for some time past, arrived so very opportunely at court. Our claim, as narrator, being that we

unfold events in exact logical sequence, we hold ourselves ready to answer that question.

Porthos, faithful to his duty as an arranger of affairs, had immediately after leaving the PalaisRoyal set off

to join Raoul at the Minimes in the Bois de Vincennes, and had related everything, even to the smallest

details, which had passed between De SaintAignan and himself. He finished by saying that the message

which the King had sent to his favorite would not probably occasion more than a short delay, and that De

SaintAignan, as soon as he could leave the King, would not lose a moment in accepting the invitation which

But Raoul, less credulous than his old friend, had concluded, from Porthos's recital, that if De SaintAignan

was going to the King, De SaintAignan would tell the King everything, and that the King would therefore

forbid De SaintAignan to obey the summons he had received to the hostile meeting. The consequence of his

reflections was that he had left Porthos to remain at the place appointed for the meeting, in the very

improbable case that De SaintAignan would come there; and had urged Porthos not to remain there more

than an hour or an hour and a half. Porthos, however, formally refused to assent to that, but on the contrary

installed himself in the Minimes as if he were going to take root there, making Raoul promise that when he

had been to see his father, he would return to his own apartments, in order that Porthos's servant might know

where to find him in case M. de SaintAignan should happen to come to the rendezvous.

Bragelonne had left Vincennes, and had proceeded at once straight to the apartments of Athos, who had been

in Paris during the last two days, and had been already informed of what had taken place by a letter from

Athos, after having held out his hand to him, and embraced him most affectionately, made a sign for him to

sit down. "I know you come to me as a man would go to a friend, Viscount, whenever he is suffering; tell me,

The young man bowed, and began his recital; more than once in the course of it his tears choked his

utterance; and a sob checked in his throat compelled him to pause in his narration. However, he finished at

last. Athos most probably already knew how matters stood, as we have just now said that d'Artagnan had

already written to him; but preserving until the conclusion that calm, unruffled composure of manner which

constituted the almost superhuman side of his character, he replied: "Raoul, I do not believe there is a word of

truth in the rumors; I do not believe in the existence of what you fear, although I do not deny that persons

most entitled to the fullest credit have already conversed with me on the subject. In my heart and soul I think

it impossible that the King could be guilty of such an outrage upon a gentleman. I will answer for the King,

Raoul, wavering like a drunken man between what he had seen with his own eyes and the imperturbable faith

he had in a man who had never told a falsehood, bowed, and simply answered, "Go, then, Monsieur the

Count; I will await your return"; and he sat down, burying his face in his hands.

Athos dressed, and then left him in order to wait upon the King; what occurred in the interview with the King

When he returned to his lodgings, Raoul, pale and dejected, had not quitted his attitude of despair. At the

sound, however, of the opening doors and of his father's footsteps, as he approached him, the young man

raised his head. Athos's face was very pale, his head uncovered, and his manner full of seriousness; he gave

his cloak and hat to the lackey, dismissed him with a gesture, and sat down near Raoul.

"Oh, you see, you see, Monsieur!" said the young man, with a gesture of despair.

"Raoul," resumed the count, "I told the King, believe me, all that you yourself could possibly have said; and I

"I told him, Raoul, that everything was now at an end between him and ourselves; that you would never serve

him again. I told him that I, too, should remain aloof. Nothing further remains for me, then, but to be satisfied

"And with reference to revenge; for I fear that you think of avenging your wrongs."

"Oh, Monsieur, with regard to my affection, I shall perhaps, some day or other, succeed in tearing it from my

heart; I trust I shall do so, aided by Heaven's merciful help and your wise exhortations. So far as vengeance is

concerned, it occurred to me only when under the influence of an evil thought, for I could not revenge myself

upon the one who is actually guilty; I have therefore already renounced every idea of revenge."

"No, Monsieur. I sent him a challenge. If he accepts it, I will maintain it; if he does not take it up, I will leave

"You cannot, I know, have seriously thought that I should dream of revenging myself upon a woman?"

replied Raoul, with a smile so sad that a tear started even to the eyes of his father, who had so many times in

"And so, Monsieur the Count, you are quite satisfied that the misfortune is without a remedy?" inquired the

"You think that I still hope," said Raoul, "and you pity me. Oh, it is indeed a horrible suffering for me to

despise, as I ought to do, her whom I have loved so devotedly. If I but had some real cause of complaint

Athos looked at his son with a sorrowful air. The few words which Raoul had just pronounced seemed to

have issued out of his own heart. At this moment the servant announced M. d'Artagnan. This name sounded

The musketeer entered the room with a vague smile upon his lips. Raoul paused. Athos walked towards his

friend with an expression of face which did not escape Bragelonne. D'Artagnan answered Athos's look by a

simple movement of the eyelid; and then, advancing toward Raoul, whom he took by the hand, he said,

addressing both father and son, "Well, you are trying to console the boy, it seems."

As he said this, Athos pressed d'Artagnan's hand between both his own. Raoul fancied he observed in this

"Yes," replied the musketeer, smoothing his mustache with the hand that Athos had left free, "yes, I have

"You are most welcome, Chevalier; not for the consolation you bring with you, but on your own account. I

am already consoled," said Raoul; and he attempted to smile, but the effect was far more sad than any tears

"Only," continued Raoul, "you have arrived just as the count was about to give me the details of his interview

with the King. You will allow the count to continue?" added the young man, as with his eyes fixed on the

"His interview with the King?" said d'Artagnan, in a tone so natural and unassumed that there was no reason

"Ah, indeed! you were ignorant, then, that the count had seen his Majesty?" inquired Raoul, half reassured.

"Forgive me, Monsieur," said Raoul; "but knowing so well the regard and affection you have for me, I was

afraid you might possibly have expressed somewhat plainly to his Majesty my own sufferings and your

"And that the King had consequently" repeated d'Artagnan; "well, go on, finish what you were going to

"I have now to ask you to forgive me, M. d'Artagnan," said Raoul. "For a moment, and I cannot help

confessing it, I trembled lest you had come here, not as M. d'Artagnan, but as captain of the Musketeers."

"You are mad, my poor boy," cried d'Artagnan, with a burst of laughter in which an exact observer might

"Very well, then. I advise you, after your long journey from England, after your visit to M. de Guiche, after

your visit to Madame, after your visit to Porthos, after your journey to Vincennes, I advise you, I say, to

take a few hours' rest; go and lie down, sleep for a dozen hours, and when you wake up, go and ride one of

my horses until you have tired him to death." And drawing Raoul towards him, d'Artagnan embraced him as

if he were his own child. Athos did the like; only, it was very apparent that the father's kiss was more tender

The young man again looked at his companions, endeavoring with the utmost strength of his intelligence to

read what was in their minds; but his look was powerless upon the smiling countenance of the musketeer or

"Where are you going, Raoul?" inquired the latter, seeing that Bragelonne was preparing to go out.

"We shall be sure to find you there, then, if we should have anything to say to you?"

"Yes, Monsieur; but do you suppose it likely you will have something to say to me?"

Raoul, observing the perfect composure which marked every gesture of his two friends, quitted the count's

room, carrying away with him nothing but the individual feeling of his own particular distress. "Thank

Heaven!" he said; "since that is the case, I need only think of myself." And wrapping himself in his cloak, in

order to conceal from the passersby in the streets his gloomy face, he started out to return to his own rooms,

The two friends watched the young man as he walked away with a feeling akin to pity; only, each expressed

"POOR RAOUL!" Athos had said; "Poor Raoul!" d'Artagnan had said: to be pitied by both these men, Raoul

must indeed have been most unhappy. And when he found himself alone, face to face as it were with his own

troubles, leaving behind him the intrepid friend and the indulgent father; when he recalled the avowal of the

King's affection, which had robbed him of Louise de la Valliere, whom he loved so deeply, he felt his heart

almost breaking; as indeed we all have at least once in our lives, at the first illusion destroyed, at the first love

betrayed. "Oh," he murmured, "all is over then! Nothing is now left me in this world, nothing to look for,

nothing to hope for! Guiche has told me so; my father has told me so, and M. d'Artagnan likewise.

Everything is a mere idle dream in this life. That future which I have been hopelessly pursuing for the last ten

years, a dream! that union of our hearts, a dream! that life formed of love and happiness, a dream! Poor fool,

to publish my dreams in the face of my friends and my enemies, that my friends may be saddened by my

troubles and my enemies may laugh at my sorrows! So my unhappiness will soon become a notorious

Despite the composure which he had promised his father and d'Artagnan to observe, Raoul could not resist

uttering a few words of dark menace. "And yet," he continued, "if my name were De Wardes, and if I had the

pliant character and strength of will of M. d'Artagnan, I should laugh, with my lips at least; I should convince

other women that this perfidious girl, honored by my love, leaves me only one regret, that of having been

deceived by her counterfeit of honesty. Some men might perhaps make favor with the King at my expense: I

should put myself on the track of those jesters; I should chastise a few of them, the men would fear me, and

by the time I had laid three at my feet I should be adored by the women. Yes, yes; that indeed would be the

proper course to adopt, and the Comte de la Fere himself would not object to it. Has not he also been tried, in

his earlier days, in the same manner as I have just been tried myself? Did he not replace love by intoxication?

He has often told me so. Why should not I replace love by pleasure? He must have suffered as much as I

suffer, even more so, perhaps. The history of one man is the history of all men, a lengthened trial, of

greater or less duration, more or less bitter or sorrowful. The voice of human nature is nothing but one

prolonged cry. But what are the sufferings of others compared to those from which I am now suffering? Does

the open wound in another's breast soften the pain of the gaping wound in our own? Or does the blood which

is welling from another man's side stanch that which is pouring from our own? Does the general anguish of

our fellowcreatures lessen our own private and particular anguish? No, no; each suffers on his own account,

each struggles with his own grief, each sheds his own tears. And besides, what has my life been up to the

present moment? A cold, barren, sterile arena, in which I have always fought for others, never for myself,

sometimes for a king, sometimes for a woman. The King has betrayed me; the woman disdained me.

Miserable, unhappy wretch that I am! Women! Can I not make all expiate the crime of one of their sex? What

does that require? To have a heart no longer, or to forget that I ever had one; to be strong, even against

weakness itself; to lean always, even when one feels that the support is giving way. What is needed to attain

that result? To be young, handsome, strong, valiant, rich. I am, or shall be, all that. But, honor? What is

honor, after all? A theory which every man understands in his own way. My father tells me: 'Honor is the

consideration of what is due to others, and particularly of what one owes to one's self.' But De Guiche and

Manicamp, and De SaintAignan particularly would say to me, 'Honor consists in serving the passions and

pleasures of one's King.' Honor such as that, indeed, is easy and productive enough. With honor like that I

can keep my post at the court, become a gentleman of the chamber, and have the command of a regiment.

"The stain which that woman has just stamped upon me, the grief with which she has just broken my heart,

mine, Raoul's, her friend from childhood, in no way affect M. de Bragelonne, an excellent officer, a

courageous leader, who will cover himself with glory at the first encounter, and who will become a hundred

times greater than Mademoiselle de la Valliere is today, the mistress of the King; for the King will not

marry her, and the more publicly he proclaims her as his mistress, the more will he enlarge the band of

shame which he places as a crown upon her brow; and when others shall despise her as I despise her, I shall

have become famous. Alas! we had walked together side by side, she and I, during the earliest, the brightest,

and best portion of our existence, hand in hand along the charming path of life, covered with the flowers of

youth, and now we come to a cross road, where she separates herself from me, whence we shall follow

different roads, which will lead us always farther apart. And to attain the end of this path, oh Heaven! I am

Such were the sinister reflections in which Raoul was indulging when his foot mechanically paused at the

door of his own dwelling. He had reached it without noticing the streets through which he had passed,

without knowing how he had come; he pushed open the door, continued to advance, and ascended the

staircase. The staircase, as in most of the houses at that period, was very dark, and the landings were obscure.

Raoul lived on the first floor; he paused in order to ring. Olivain appeared, and took Raoul's sword and cloak

from his hands. Raoul himself opened the door which from the antechamber led into a small salon, richly

furnished enough for the salon of a young man, and completely filled with flowers by Olivain, who knowing

his master's tastes had shown himself studiously attentive in gratifying them without caring whether his

master perceived his attention or not. There was a portrait of La Valliere in the salon, which had been drawn

by herself and given by her to Raoul. This portrait, fastened above a large easychair covered with

darkcolored damask, was the first point towards which Raoul bent his steps, the first object on which he

fixed his eyes. It was, moreover, Raoul's usual habit to do so; every time he entered his room, this portrait,

before anything else, attracted his attention. This time, as usual, he walked straight up to the portrait, placed

his knees upon the armchair, and paused to look at it sadly. His arms were crossed upon his breast, his head

slightly thrown back, his eyes filled with tears, his lips curved in a bitter smile. He looked at the portrait of

her whom he so tenderly loved; and then all that he had said passed before his mind again, and all that he had

suffered assailed his heart. After a long silence he murmured for the third time, "Miserable, unhappy wretch

He had hardly pronounced these words, when he heard the sound of a sigh and a groan behind him. He turned

sharply round, and perceived in the angle of the salon, standing up, a bending veiled female figure, which the

opening door had concealed as he entered, and which, since he had not turned around, he had not perceived.

He advanced towards this figure, whose presence in his room had not been announced to him; and as he

bowed, and inquired at the same moment who she was, she suddenly raised her head, and removed the veil

Raoul staggered back, as if he had seen a ghost. "Louise!" he cried, in a tone of such despair as one could

hardly believe the human voice could express without breaking all the fibres of the heart.

MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIERE (for it was indeed she) advanced a few steps toward him. "Yes

But this interval, short as it had been, was quite sufficient for Raoul to recover himself. "You,

Louise hesitated; and as Raoul did not attempt to interrupt her, a moment's silence ensued, during which the

sound of their throbbing hearts might have been heard, no longer in unison with each other, but the one

beating as violently as the other. It was for Louise to speak, and she made an effort to do so. "I wished to

speak to you," she said. "It was absolutely necessary that I should see you myself alone. I have not

hesitated to adopt a step which must remain secret; for no one, except yourself, could understand my motive,

"In fact, Mademoiselle," Raoul stammered out, almost breathless from emotion, "so far as I am concerned,

"Will you do me the great kindness to sit down and listen to me?" said Louise, interrupting him with her soft,

Bragelonne looked at her for a moment; then, mournfully shaking his head, he sat, or rather fell down, on a

Louise cast a glance all round her. This look was a timid entreaty, and implored secrecy far more effectually

Raoul rose, and went to the door, which he opened. "Olivain," he said, "I am not within for anyone"; and then

Nothing could have produced a greater effect upon Louise than these few words which seemed to signify,

"You see that I still understand you." She passed a handkerchief across her eyes, in order to remove a

rebellious tear; and then, having collected herself for a moment, she said: "Raoul, do not turn your kind, frank

look away from me! You are not one of those men who despise a woman for having given her heart to

another, even though that love might render him unhappy or might wound his pride."

"Alas!" continued La Valliere, "it is only too true. My cause is a bad one, and I know not in what way to

begin. It will be better for me, I think, to relate to you very simply everything that has befallen me. As I shall

speak the truth, I shall always find my path clear before me in the obscurity, hesitation, and obstacles which I

have to brave in order to solace my heart, which is full to overflowing, and wishes to pour itself out at your

Raoul continued to preserve the same unbroken silence. La Valliere looked at him with an air that seemed to

say, "Encourage me; for pity's sake, but a single word!" But Raoul did not open his lips; and the young girl

"Just now," she said, "M. de SaintAignan came to me by the King's directions." She cast down her eyes as

she said this; while Raoul, on his side, turned his away, in order to avoid looking at her. "M. de SaintAignan

came to me from the King," she repeated, "and told me that you knew all"; and she attempted to look Raoul

in the face, after inflicting this further wound upon him in addition to the many others he had already

This time Raoul looked at the young girl, and a smile full of disdain passed across his lips.

"Oh," she continued, "I entreat you, do not say that you have had any other feeling against me than that of

anger merely! Raoul, wait until I have told you all, wait until I have said to you all that I had to say, all that I

Raoul, by the strength of his own iron will, forced his features to assume a calmer expression; and the

"In the first place," said La Valliere, "in the first place, with my hands raised in entreaty towards you, with

my forehead bowed to the ground before you, I entreat you, as the most generous, as the noblest of men, to

pardon, to forgive me. If I have left you in ignorance of what was passing in my own bosom, never, at least,

would I have consented to deceive you. Oh, I entreat you, Raoul, I implore you on my knees, answer me

one word, even though you wrong me in doing so! Better an injurious word from your lips than a suspicion in

"I admire your subtlety of expression, Mademoiselle," said Raoul, making an effort to remain calm. "To leave

another in ignorance that you are deceiving him is loyal; but to deceive him it seems that that would be very

"Monsieur, for a long time I thought that I loved you better than anything else; and so long as I believed in

my love for you, I told you that I loved you. At Blois I loved you. The King visited Blois; I believed I loved

you still. I could have sworn it on the altar; but a day came when I was undeceived."

"Well, on that day, Mademoiselle, knowing that I still continued to love you, true loyalty of conduct ought to

"But on that day, Raoul, on that day, when I read in the depths of my own heart, when I confessed to myself

that you no longer filled my mind entirely, when I saw another future before me than that of being your

friend, your lifelong companion, your wife, on that day, Raoul, you were not, alas! any more beside me."

"Raoul, I did not dare to do so. Raoul, I have been weak and cowardly. I knew you so thoroughly I knew

how devotedly you loved me that I trembled at the bare idea of the sorrow I was going to cause you; and

that is so true, Raoul, that at this very moment I am now speaking to you, bending thus before you, my heart

crushed in my bosom, my voice full of sighs, my eyes full of tears, it is so perfectly true, that I have no

other defence than my frankness, I have no other sorrow greater than that which I read in your eyes."

"No," said the young girl, with a profound conviction, "no, no; you will not do me so foul a wrong as to

disguise your feelings before me now! You loved me, you were sure of your affection for me, you did not

deceive yourself, you did not lie to your own heart; while I I" And pale as death, her arms thrown

"Alas, yes!" cried the poor girl, "alas, yes! I do love another; and that other oh, for Heaven's sake, let me

say it, Raoul, for it is my only excuse that other I love better than my own life, better than my own soul

even. Forgive my fault or punish my treason, Raoul. I came here in no way to defend myself, but merely to

say to you, 'You know what it is to love!' Well, I love! I love to that degree that I would give my life, my very

soul, to the man I love. If he should ever cease to love me, I shall die of grief and despair, unless God helps

me, unless the Lord shows pity upon me. Raoul, I came here to submit myself to your will, whatever it might

be, to die, if it were your wish I should die. Kill me, then, Raoul, if in your heart you believe I deserve

"Take care, Mademoiselle!" said Raoul; "the woman who invites death is one who has nothing but her heart's

Raoul uttered a deep sigh as he exclaimed, "And you love without being able to forget!"

"I love without a wish to forget, without a wish ever to love any one else," replied La Valliere.

"Very well," said Raoul. "You have said to me, in fact, all you had to say, all I could possibly wish to know.

And now, Mademoiselle, it is I who ask your forgiveness; for it is I who have almost been an obstacle in your

life. I, too, have been wrong; for in deceiving myself I helped to deceive you."

"I only am to blame, Mademoiselle," continued Raoul. "Better informed than yourself of the difficulties of

this life, I should have enlightened you. I ought not to have relied upon uncertainty; I ought to have extracted

an answer from your heart, while I hardly even sought an acknowledgement from your lips. Once more,

"Take care!" said Raoul, with a bitter smile; "for presently you may say perhaps that I did not love you."

"As a brother? Undeceive yourself, Louise! I loved you as a lover, as a husband, with the deepest, the truest,

"As a brother? Oh, Louise! I loved you so much I would have given all my blood for you, drop by drop; all

"I loved you so much, Louise, that my heart is dead, my faith extinguished, my eyes have lost their light. I

"Raoul, dear Raoul! spare me, I implore you!" cried La Valliere. "Oh, if I had known"

"It is too late, Louise. You love, you are happy; I read your happiness through your tears, behind the tears

which the loyalty of your nature makes you shed; I feel the sighs which your love breathes forth. Louise,

Louise, you have made me the most abjectly wretched man living; leave me, I entreat you! Adieu! adieu!"

"Have I not done more? Have I not told you that I love you still?" She buried her face in her hands. "And to

tell you that, do you understand me, Louise? to tell you that at such a moment as this, to tell you that as I

"We ought not to see each other again in this world," he said; and as she was on the point of calling out in

bitter agony at this remark, he placed his hand on her mouth to stifle the exclamation. She pressed her lips

"Olivain," said Raoul, "take this young lady and bear her to the carriage which is waiting for her at the door."

As Olivain lifted her up, Raoul made a movement towards La Valliere, as if to give her a first and last kiss,

but stopping abruptly, he said, "No, she is not mine; I am not the King of France, to steal!" And he returned

to his room; while the lackey carried La Valliere, still fainting, to the carriage.

AFTER Raoul's departure, and the two exclamations which had followed him, Athos and d'Artagnan found

themselves alone, face to face. Athos immediately resumed the earnest manner which had possessed him

"Yes; I do not see you in this way without some reason for it," said Athos, smiling.

"I have plenty of time. Are you not curious, besides, to know how things went on between the King and me?"

"If you will be good enough to tell me, I will listen with the greatest pleasure," said Athos, pointing out to

d'Artagnan a large chair, in which the latter stretched himself in an easy attitude.

"Well, I will do so willingly enough," continued d'Artagnan, "for the conversation is rather interesting. In the

"You were just going down the last steps of the staircase, as the musketeers told me. I arrived. My dear

Athos, the King was not red in the face merely, he was positively purple. I was not aware, of course, of what

had passed; only I saw a sword broken in two lying on the floor. 'Captain d'Artagnan,' cried the King, as soon

as he saw me. 'Sire,' I replied. 'I abandon M. de la Fere; he is an insolent man.' 'An insolent man!' I exclaimed,

in such a tone that the King stopped suddenly short. 'Captain d'Artagnan,' resumed the King, with his teeth

clinched, 'you will listen to me and obey me.' 'That is my duty, Sire.' 'I have wished to spare that gentleman,

of whom I retain some kind recollections, the affront of having him arrested in my presence.' 'Ah! ah!' I said

quietly. 'But you will take a carriage.' At this I made a slight movement. 'If you object to arrest him yourself,'

continued the King, 'send me my captain of the Guards.' 'Sire,' I replied, 'there is no necessity for the captain

of the Guards, since I am on duty.' 'I should not like to annoy you,' said the King, kindly, 'for you have always

served me well, M. d'Artagnan.' 'You do not annoy me, Sire,' I replied; 'I am on duty, that is all.' 'But,' said

the King, in astonishment, 'I believe the count is your friend?' 'If he were my father, Sire, it would not make

me less on duty than I am.' The King looked at me; he saw how unmoved my face was, and seemed satisfied.

'You will arrest M. le Comte de la Fere, then?' he inquired. 'Most certainly, Sire, if you give me the order to

do so.' 'Very well; I order you to do so.' I bowed and replied, 'Where is the count, Sire?' 'You will look for

him.' 'And I am to arrest him wherever he may be?' 'Yes; but at his own house if possible. If he has started for

his own estate, leave Paris at once, and arrest him on his way thither.' I bowed; but as I did not move, he said,

'Well?' 'I am waiting, Sire.' 'What are you waiting for?' 'For the signed order.' The King seemed annoyed; for

in point of fact it was the exercise of a fresh act of authority, a repetition of the arbitrary act, if indeed it is to

be considered as such. He took his pen slowly, and in no very good temper; then he wrote, 'Order for M. le

Chevalier d'Artagnan, captain of my Musketeers, to arrest M. le Comte de la Fere, wherever he is to be

found.' He then turned towards me; but I was looking on without moving a muscle of my face. In all

probability he thought he perceived something like bravado in my tranquil manner, for he signed hurriedly;

"Oh! surely," said d'Artagnan, "you must have some trifling matters to arrange before you leave your

"Why, you know, d'Artagnan, I have always been a very simple traveller on this earth, ready to go to the end

of the world by order of my sovereign, ready to quit it at the summons of my Maker. What does a man who is

thus prepared require in such a case? a portmanteau or a shroud. I am ready at this moment, as I have

"I have brought him up in the same principles I laid down for my own guidance; and you observed that as

soon as he perceived you he guessed, that very moment, the motive of your visit. We have thrown him off his

guard for a moment; but do not be uneasy, he is sufficiently prepared for my disgrace not to be too much

"As I broke my sword in the King's presence, and threw the pieces at his feet, I presume that will dispense

"You are quite right; and besides that, what the devil do you suppose I could do with your sword?"

"You will walk arminarm with me," replied d'Artagnan, as he took the count's arm to descend the

staircase; and in this manner they arrived at the landing. Grimaud, whom they had met in the anteroom,

looked at them, as they went out together in this manner, with some little uneasiness; his experience of affairs

was quite sufficient to give him good reason to suspect that there was something wrong.

"To take a turn in my carriage," interrupted d'Artagnan, with a friendly nod of the head.

Grimaud thanked d'Artagnan by a grimace, which was evidently intended for a smile, and accompanied the

two friends to the door. Athos entered first into the carriage; d'Artagnan followed him, without saying a word

to the coachman. The departure had taken place so quietly that it excited no disturbance or attention even in

the neighborhood. When the carriage had reached the quays, "You are taking me to the Bastille, I perceive,"

"I?" said d'Artagnan. "I take you wherever you may choose to go; nowhere else, I can assure you."

"Pardieu!" said d'Artagnan, "you quite understand that I undertook the mission with no other object in view

than that of carrying it out exactly as you liked. You did not think that I would have you thrown into prison

like that, brutally, without reflection. If I had not anticipated that, I should have let the captain of the Guards

"Well, it seems simple enough to me. The coachman will take you to the barrier of the CourslaReine; you

will find a horse there which I have ordered to be kept ready for you; with that horse you will be able to do

three posts without stopping; and I, on my side, will take care not to return to the King, to tell him that you

have gone away, until it will be impossible to overtake you. In the mean time you will have reached Havre,

and from Havre you will go to England, where you will find the charming residence which my friend M.

Monk gave me, to say nothing of the hospitality which King Charles will not fail to show you. Well, what

"You are an obstinateheaded fellow, dear Athos," returned d'Artagnan; "reflect for a few moments."

"That you are no longer twenty years of age. Believe me, I speak according to my own knowledge and

experience, a prison is certain death for men of our time of life. No, no; I will never allow you to languish in

"Dear d'Artagnan," Athos replied, "happily God made me as strong in body as in mind; and rely upon it, I

"No, d'Artagnan, it is the highest order of reasoning. Do not suppose that I should in the slightest degree in

the world discuss the question with you, whether you would not be ruined in endeavoring to save me. I

should have done precisely as you have arranged, if flight had seemed proper to me; I should therefore have

accepted from you what without any doubt you would have accepted from me. No! I know you too well even

"Ah, if you would only let me do it," said d'Artagnan, "how I would send the King running after you!"

"Oh, that is all the same to me; and King though he be, I would plainly tell him, 'Sire! imprison, exile, kill

every one in France and Europe; order me to arrest, and even poniard whom you like, even were it

Monsieur, your own brother; but do not touch one of the four musketeers, or, if so, mordioux!'"

"My dear friend," replied Athos, quietly, "I should like to persuade you of one thing; namely, that I wish to be

arrested, that I desire above all things that my arrest should take place." D'Artagnan made a movement of

his shoulders. "What does that mean? It is so. If you were to let me escape, it would be only to return of my

own accord, and constitute myself a prisoner. I wish to prove to this young man, who is dazzled by the power

and splendor of his crown, that he can be regarded as the first among men only by proving himself to be the

most generous and the wisest among them. He may punish, imprison, or torture me, it matters not. He

abuses his opportunities, and I wish him to learn the bitterness of remorse, while Heaven teaches him what a

"Well," replied d'Artagnan, "I know only too well that when you have once said 'No,' you mean 'No.' I do not

"Let us go, then! To the Bastille!" cried d'Artagnan to the coachman; and throwing himself back in the

carriage, he gnawed the ends of his mustache with a fury which to Athos, who knew him well, signified a

resolution either already taken or in course of formation. A profound silence ensued in the carriage, which

Athos took the musketeer by the hand. "You are not angry with me, d'Artagnan?" he said.

"I? Oh, no! certainly not, of course not! What you do from heroism, I should have done from obstinacy."

"But you are quite of opinion, are you not, that Heaven will avenge me, d'Artagnan?"

"And I know some persons on earth who will lend a helping hand," said the captain.

THE carriage arrived at the outer gate of the Bastille. A soldier on guard stopped it; but d'Artagnan had only

to utter a single word to procure admittance, and the carriage passed on. While they were proceeding along

the covered way which led to the courtyard of the governor's residence, d'Artagnan, whose lynx eye saw

everything, even through the walls, suddenly cried out, "What is that out yonder?"

"Make haste and look again, and look at the man who is just getting out of that carriage."

At that very moment a second sentinel stopped d'Artagnan; and while the formalities were gone through,

Athos could see at a hundred paces from him the man whom his friend had pointed out to him. He was, in

fact, getting out of the carriage at the door of the governor's house. "Well," inquired d'Artagnan, "do you see

"I cannot very well tell. He is, as I have just now told you, a man in a gray suit, who is getting out of a

"Oh, he knows Baisemeaux, the governor!" replied the musketeer, slyly. "My faith! we have arrived just in

"I regret this meeting exceedingly. When Aramis sees me, he will be very much annoyed, in the first place

"Unfortunately, there is no remedy for it. Whenever any one meets another in the Bastille, even if he wished

"Athos, I have an idea: the question is, to spare Aramis the annoyance you were speaking of, is it not?"

"I will tell you; or, in order to better explain myself, let me relate the affair in my own manner. I will not

"Well, I will lie for both of us; it is so easy to do that, with the nature and habits of a Gascon."

Athos smiled. The carriage stopped where the one we have just now pointed out had stopped; namely, at the

They ascended the staircase. There will be no occasion for surprise at the facility with which they had entered

the Bastille, if it be remembered that before passing the first gate in fact, the most difficult of all

d'Artagnan had announced that he had brought a prisoner of State. At the third gate, on the contrary, that is

to say, when he had once fairly entered the prison, he merely said to the sentinel, "To M. Baisemeaux"; and

they both passed on. In a few minutes they were in the governor's diningroom; and the first face which

attracted d'Artagnan's observation was that of Aramis, who was seated side by side with Baisemeaux, and

awaited the announcement of a good meal, whose odor impregnated the whole apartment. If d'Artagnan

pretended surprise, Aramis did not pretend at all; he started when he saw his two friends, and his emotion was

very apparent. Athos and d'Artagnan, however, made their salutations; and Baisemeaux, amazed, completely

stupefied by the presence of those three guests, began to perform a few evolutions around them.

"Are we going to give ourselves up as prisoners?" cried Aramis, with an affectation of hilarity.

"Ah! ah!" said d'Artagnan; "it is true the walls smell deucedly like a prison. M. de Baisemeaux, you know

Baisemeaux turned pale and then red; looked at Aramis, who looked at him; and finally stammered,

"Certainly I am delighted but upon my honor I have not the slightest Ah! I have such a wretched

Baisemeaux hurried towards him. "Do not stand on ceremony, my dear captain," he said. "I have the poorest

head in the kingdom. Take me from my pigeons and their pigeonhouse, and I am no better than the rawest

"It was when you came to the palace to see me; you told me some story or other about your accounts with M.

"Ah!" exclaimed Aramis, looking the unhappy governor full in the face; "and yet you just now said you had

Baisemeaux interrupted the musketeer in the midst of his revelations. "Yes, yes, you're quite right; it seems to

me that I am still there. I beg a thousand pardons. But now, once for all, my dear M. d'Artagnan, be sure that

at this present time, as at any other, whether invited or not, you are master here, you and M. d'Herblay, your

friend," he said, turning towards Aramis; "and this gentleman too," he added, bowing to Athos.

"Well, I thought it would be sure to turn out so," replied d'Artagnan. "This is the occasion of my coming:

Having nothing to do this evening at the PalaisRoyal, I wished to judge for myself what your ordinary style

of living was like; and as I was coming along I met Monsieur the Count." Athos bowed. "The count, who had

just left his Majesty, handed me an order which required immediate attention. We were close by here; I

wished to call in, even if it were for no other object than that of shaking hands with you and of presenting the

count to you, of whom you spoke so highly in the King's presence that very evening when"

"And he will sup with you two, I suppose; while I, unfortunate dog that I am, must run off on a matter of

duty. Oh, what happy beings you are, compared to myself!" D'Artagnan added, sighing as loud as Porthos

"And so you are going away?" said Aramis and Baisemeaux together, with the same expression of delighted

"I leave you in my place," he said, "a noble and excellent guest"; and he touched Athos gently on the

shoulder, who, astonished also, could not help exhibiting his surprise a little, which was noticed by Aramis

only, for M. de Baisemeaux was not quite equal to the three friends in point of intelligence.

"I shall be away only about an hour or an hour and a half. I will return in time for dessert."

"Most certainly," he said, pressing his friend's hand confidentially; and he added in a low voice, "Wait for

me, Athos; be cheerful and lively as possible, and above all, don't allude to business affairs, for Heaven's

sake!" and a renewed pressure of the hand impressed upon the count the necessity of being discreet and

Baisemeaux led d'Artagnan to the gate. Aramis, with many friendly protestations of delight, sat down by

Athos, determined to make him speak; but Athos possessed all the virtues in their highest excellence. If

necessity had required it, he would have been the finest orator in the world; but when there was need of

Ten minutes after d'Artagnan's departure, the three gentlemen sat down to table, which was covered with the

most substantial display of gastronomic luxury. Large joints, exquisite dishes, preserves, the greatest variety

of wines, appeared successively upon the table, which was served at the King's expense, and of which

expense M. Colbert would have no difficulty in saving two thirds, without any one in the Bastille being the

Baisemeaux was the only one who ate and drank resolutely. Aramis allowed nothing to pass by him, but

merely touched everything he took; Athos, after the soup and three hors d'oeuvres, ate nothing more. The

style of conversation was such as it necessarily would be between three men so opposite in temper and ideas.

Aramis was incessantly asking himself by what extraordinary chance Athos was at Baisemeaux's when

d'Artagnan was no longer there, and why d'Artagnan did not remain when Athos was there. Athos sounded all

the depths of the mind of Aramis, who lived in the midst of subterfuge, evasion, and intrigue; he studied his

man well and thoroughly, and felt convinced that he was engaged upon some important project. And then he

too began to think of his own personal affair, and to lose himself in conjectures as to d'Artagnan's reason for

having left the Bastille so abruptly, and for leaving behind him a prisoner so badly introduced and so badly

But we shall not pause to examine into the thoughts and feelings of these personages; we will leave them to

themselves, surrounded by the remains of poultry, game, and fish, mutilated by the generous knife of

Baisemeaux. We are going to follow d'Artagnan instead, who, getting into the carriage which had brought

M. DE SAINTAIGNAN had executed the commission with which the King had intrusted him for La

Valliere, as we have already seen in one of the preceding chapters; but whatever his eloquence might have

been, he did not succeed in persuading the young girl that she had in the King a protector powerful enough

for her under any combination of circumstances, and that she had no need of any one else in the world when

the King was on her side. In point of fact, at the very first word which the favorite mentioned of the discovery

of the famous secret, Louise, in a passion of tears, abandoned herself in utter despair to a sorrow which would

have been far from flattering for the King, if he had been a witness of it from a corner of the room. De

SaintAignan, in his character of ambassador, felt greatly offended at it, as his master himself would have

been, and returned to announce to the King what he had seen and heard. It is there that we now find him, in a

state of great agitation, in the presence of the King, still more agitated than he.

"But," said the King to the courtier, when the latter had finished his report, "what did she decide to do? Shall

I, at least, see her presently before supper? Will she come to me, or shall I be obliged to go to her room?"

"I believe, Sire, that if your Majesty wishes to see her, you will not only have to take the first step in advance,

"Nothing for me! Does that Bragelonne still possess her heart?" muttered the King between his teeth.

"Oh, Sire, that is not possible; for it is you alone whom Mademoiselle de la Valliere loves, and that, too, with

all her heart. But you know that De Bragelonne belongs to that proud race who play the part of Roman

The King smiled feebly; he knew how true the illustration was, for Athos had just left him.

"As for Mademoiselle de la Valliere," De SaintAignan continued, "she was brought up under the care of the

Dowager Madame; that is to say, in austere retirement. This engaged young couple coldly exchanged their

little vows in the presence of the moon and the stars; and now, when they find they have to break those vows,

De SaintAignan thought he should have made the King laugh; but on the contrary, from a mere smile Louis

passed to the greatest seriousness of manner. He already began to experience that remorse which the count

had promised d'Artagnan he would inflict upon him. He reflected that, in fact, these young persons had loved

and sworn fidelity to each other; that one of the two had kept his word, and that the other was too

conscientious not to feel her perjury most bitterly; and with remorse, jealousy sharply pricked the King's

heart. He did not say another word; and instead of going to pay a visit to his mother or the Queen or Madame,

in order to amuse himself a little and make the ladies laugh, as he himself used to say, he threw himself into

the huge armchair in which his august father, Louis XIII, had passed so many weary days and years in

De SaintAignan perceived that the King was not to be amused at that moment; he tried a last resource, and

pronounced Louise's name, which made the King look up immediately. "What does your Majesty intend to

do this evening? Shall Mademoiselle de la Valliere be informed of your intention to see her?"

"It seems she is already aware of that," replied the King. "No, no, SaintAignan," he continued, after a

moment's pause; "we will both of us pass our time in dreaming. When Mademoiselle de la Valliere shall have

sufficiently regretted what she now regrets, she will deign, perhaps, to give us some news of herself."

The King rose, flushed with vexation; he was a prey to jealousy in its turn. De SaintAignan was just

beginning to feel that his position was becoming awkward, when the curtain before the door was raised. The

King turned hastily round. His first idea was that a letter from Louise had arrived; but instead of a letter of

love, he saw only his captain of Musketeers standing upright and silent in the doorway. "M. d'Artagnan!" he

D'Artagnan looked at De SaintAignan; Louis's eyes took the same direction as those of his captain. These

looks would have been clear to any one, and they were especially so to De SaintAignan. The courtier bowed

"Yes, Sire," replied the captain of the Musketeers, in a grave voice, "it is done!"

The King was unable to say another word. Pride, however, obliged him not to pause there. Whenever a

sovereign has adopted a decisive course, even though it be unjust, he is compelled to prove to all witnesses,

and particularly to himself, that he was quite right in so adopting it. A good means for effecting that an

almost infallible means, indeed is to try to prove his victim to be in the wrong. Louis, brought up by

Mazarin and Anne of Austria, knew better than any one else his vocation as a monarch; he therefore

endeavored to prove it on the present occasion. After a few moments' pause, which he had employed in

making silently to himself the same reflections which we have just expressed aloud, he said in an indifferent

The King raised his head haughtily. "I presume," he said, "that M. le Comte de la Fere has not continued to

"In the first place, Sire, what do you term rebellious?" quietly asked the musketeer. "Is that man a rebel, in

the eyes of the King, who not only allows himself to be shut up in the Bastille, but who even opposes those

"Who do not wish to take him there!" exclaimed the King. "What do you say, Captain? Are you mad?"

"And you say that, despite my orders, you had the intention of not arresting the man who had insulted me!"

"Yes, Sire, that was really my intention. I even proposed to the count to mount a horse that I had had prepared

"Why, Sire, in order that M. le Comte de la Fere might be able to reach Havre, and from that place make his

There was nothing to say in answer to statements made in such a tone; the King was astounded at such an

obstinate and open resistance on the part of d'Artagnan. "At least you had a reason, M. d'Artagnan, for acting

"Your reason cannot be your friendship for the count, at all events, the only one that can be of any avail, the

only one that could possibly excuse you, for I placed you entirely at your ease in that respect."

"Did I not give you the choice to arrest or not to arrest M. le Comte de la Fere?"

"But you warned me, Sire, that if I did not arrest him, your captain of the Guards should do so."

"Was I not considerate enough towards you when I did not compel you to obey me?"

"To me, Sire, you were, but not to my friend; for my friend would be arrested all the same, whether by myself

"And this is your devotion, Monsieur, a devotion which argues and reasons! You are no soldier, Monsieur!"

"That is true, Sire. But, at all events, he is there; and since he is there, it is important that your Majesty should

"Of course. My friend will be lonely down there; and I have come to propose to your Majesty to permit me to

bear him company. If your Majesty will but give the word, I will arrest myself; I shall not need the captain of

The King darted towards the table and seized a pen to write the order for d'Artagnan's imprisonment. "Pay

attention, Monsieur, that this is forever!" cried the King, in a tone of stern menace.

"I can quite believe that," returned the musketeer; "for when you have once done such an act as that, you will

"Sire, I came to speak temperately to your Majesty. Your Majesty got into a passion with me: that is a

misfortune; but I shall not the less on that account say what I had to say to you."

"Sire, you know whether I care about my resignation or not, since at Blois, on the day when you refused King

Charles the million which my friend the Comte de la Fere gave him, I tendered my resignation to your

"No, Sire; for there is no question of my resignation at the present moment. Your Majesty took up your pen

"D'Artagnan! Gascon that you are! who is the King, allow me to ask, you or myself?"

"If it were you, you would approve of M. d'Artagnan's rebellious conduct, I suppose?"

"And I should tell my captain of the Musketeers," continued d'Artagnan, "I should tell him, looking at him

all the while with human eyes and not with eyes like coals of fire, 'M. d'Artagnan, I have forgotten that I am

"Monsieur!" cried the King, "do you think you can excuse your friend by exceeding him in insolence?"

"Oh, Sire! I shall go much further than he did," said d'Artagnan; "and it will be your own fault. I shall tell you

what he, a man full of delicacy, did not tell you; I shall say: 'Sire, you sacrificed his son, and he defended his

son; you sacrificed him; he addressed you in the name of honor, of religion, of virtue, you repulsed,

pursued, imprisoned him.' I shall be harder than he was, for I shall say to you: 'Sire, choose! Do you wish to

have friends or lackeys, soldiers or slaves, great men or puppets? Do you wish men to serve you or to crouch

before you? Do you wish men to love you or to fear you? If you prefer baseness, intrigue, cowardice, oh!

say it, Sire! We will leave you, we who are the only surviving illustrations, nay, I will say more, the only

models of the valor of former times; we who have done our duty, and have exceeded, perhaps, in courage and

in merit the men already great for posterity. Choose, Sire, and without delay! Whatever remains to you of the

grand nobility, guard it with a jealous eye; of courtiers you will always have enough. Delay not and send me

to the Bastille with my friend; for if you have not known how to listen to the Comte de la Fere, that is to say,

to the most sweet and noble voice of honor; if you do not know how to listen to d'Artagnan, that is to say, to

the most candid and rough voice of sincerity, you are a bad king, and tomorrow will be a poor king. Now,

bad kings are hated; poor kings are driven away.' That is what I had to say to you, Sire; you are wrong to

The King threw himself back in his chair, cold and livid. Had a thunderbolt fallen at his feet, he could not

have been more astonished; he appeared as if his respiration had ceased, and as if he were at the point of

death. That rough voice of sincerity, as d'Artagnan had called it, had pierced through his heart like a

D'Artagnan had said all that he had to say. Comprehending the King's anger, he drew his sword, and

approaching Louis XIV respectfully, placed it on the table. But the King, with a furious gesture, thrust aside

the sword, which fell on the ground and rolled to d'Artagnan's feet. Notwithstanding his mastery over

himself, d'Artagnan too, in his turn, became pale and trembled with indignation. "A king," he said, "may

disgrace a soldier, he may exile him, and may even condemn him to death; but were he a hundred times a

king, he has no right to insult him by casting dishonor on his sword! Sire, a king of France has never repulsed

with contempt the sword of a man such as I am! Stained with disgrace as this sword now is, it has henceforth

no other sheath than either your heart or my own. I choose my own, Sire; give thanks for it to God, and my

patience." Then snatching up his sword, he cried, "My blood be upon your head!" and with a rapid gesture he

placed the hilt upon the floor and directed the point of the blade towards his breast. The King, however, with

a movement still more rapid than that of d'Artagnan, threw his right arm round the musketeer's neck, and with

his left hand seized hold of the blade by the middle, and returned it silently to the scabbard. D'Artagnan,

upright, pale, and still trembling, suffered the King to do all, without aiding him, to the very end. Then Louis,

overcome, returned to the table, took a pen, wrote a few lines, signed them, and offered the paper to

"An order for M. d'Artagnan to set the Comte de la Fere at liberty immediately."

D'Artagnan seized the King's hand and kissed it; he then folded the order, placed it in his belt, and quitted the

"Oh, human heart, director of kings! murmured Louis, when alone; "when shall I learn to read in your

recesses, as in the leaves of a book? No, I am not a bad king, nor am I a poor king; but I am still a child."

D'ARTAGNAN had promised M. de Baisemeaux to return in time for dessert, and he kept his word. They

had just reached the finer and more delicate class of wines and liqueurs with which the governor's cellar had

the reputation of being most admirably stocked, when the spurs of the captain resounded in the corridor, and

Athos and Aramis had played a close game; neither had been able to gain the slightest advantage over the

other. They had supped, talked a good deal about the Bastille, of the last journey to Fontainebleau, of the

intended fete that M. Fouquet was about to give at Vaux; they had generalized on every possible subject, and

D'Artagnan arrived in the very midst of the conversation, still pale and disturbed by his interview with the

King. Baisemeaux hastened to give him a chair; d'Artagnan accepted a glass of wine, and set it down empty.

Athos and Aramis both remarked his emotion; as for Baisemeaux, he saw nothing more than the captain of

the King's Musketeers, to whom he endeavored to show every attention. To be near the King entitled any one

But although Aramis had remarked that emotion, he had not been able to guess the cause of it. Athos alone

believed that he had detected it. To him, d'Artagnan's return, and particularly the manner in which he, usually

so impassive, seemed overcome, signified, "I have just asked the King something which he has refused me."

Thoroughly convinced that his conjecture was correct, Athos smiled, rose from the table, and made a sign to

d'Artagnan, as if to remind him that they had something else to do than to sup together. D'Artagnan

immediately understood him, and replied by another sign. Aramis and Baisemeaux watched this silent

dialogue, and looked inquiringly at each other. Athos felt that he was called upon to give an explanation of

"The truth is, my friends," said the Comte de la Fere, with a smile, "that you, Aramis, have been supping with

Baisemeaux uttered an exclamation of surprise and almost of delight. That worthy man took pride in his

fortress. Profit aside, the more prisoners he had, the happier he was; and the higher the prisoners were in rank,

Aramis assumed an expression which he thought the situation required, and said: "Well, dear Athos, forgive

me; but I almost suspected what has happened. Some prank of Raoul or La Valliere, is it not?"

"And," continued Aramis, "you, a high and powerful nobleman as you are, forgetful that there are now only

courtiers, you have been to the King, and told him what you thought of his conduct?"

"So that," said Baisemeaux, trembling at having supped so familiarly with a man who had fallen into disgrace

"So that, my dear governor," said Athos, "my friend d'Artagnan will communicate to you the contents of the

paper which I perceive just peeping out of his belt, and which assuredly can be nothing else than the order for

Baisemeaux held out his hand with his accustomed eagerness. D'Artagnan drew two papers from his belt, and

presented one of them to the governor, who unfolded it, and then read, in a low tone of voice, looking at

Athos over the paper, as he did so, and pausing from time to time: "'Order to detain in my chateau of the

Bastille M. le Comte de la Fere.' Oh, Monsieur! this is indeed a very melancholy honor for me."

"You will have a patient prisoner, Monsieur," said Athos, in his calm, soft voice.

"A prisoner, too, who will not remain a month with you, my dear governor," said Aramis; while Baisemeaux,

"Not a day, or rather not even a night," said d'Artagnan, displaying the second order of the King; "for now,

dear M. de Baisemeaux, you will have the goodness to transcribe also this order for setting the count

"Ah!" said Aramis, "it is a labor that you have spared me, d'Artagnan"; and he pressed the musketeer's hand

"Oh, no, on the contrary! I wish the King no harm; and the greatest evil or misfortune that any one can wish

kings is that they should commit an act of injustice. But you have had a difficult and painful task, I know.

"I? Not at all," said the musketeer, laughing; "the King does everything I wish him to do."

Aramis looked fixedly at d'Artagnan, and saw that he was not speaking the truth. But Baisemeaux had eyes

for nothing but d'Artagnan, so great was his admiration for a man who could make the King do all he wished.

"No, not precisely. The King did not explain himself upon that subject," replied d'Artagnan; "but I think the

count could not do better, unless indeed he wishes particularly to thank the King"

"Well, then, I think," resumed d'Artagnan, "that the count cannot do better than to retire to his own chateau.

However, my dear Athos, you have only to speak, to tell me what you want. If any particular place of

"No, thank you," said Athos; "nothing can be more agreeable to me, my dear friend, than to return to the

solitude beneath my noble trees on the banks of the Loire. If Heaven be the overruling physician of the evils

of the mind, Nature is a sovereign remedy. And so, Monsieur," continued Athos, turning again towards

"Yes, Monsieur the Count, I think so, at least, I hope so," said the governor, turning over and over the two

papers in question; "unless, however, M. d'Artagnan has a third order to give me."

"No, my dear M. Baisemeaux, no," said the musketeer; "the second is quite enough. We can stop there."

"Ah! Monsieur the Count," said Baisemeaux, addressing Athos, "you do not know what you are losing. I

should have placed you at thirty livres, like the generals what am I saying? I mean at fifty livres, like the

"Allow me, Monsieur," said Athos, "to prefer my mediocrity"; and then, turning to d'Artagnan, he said, "Let

"To the city gate only," replied d'Artagnan; "after which I will tell you what I told the King: 'I am on duty.'"

"And you, dear Aramis," said Athos, smiling; "will you accompany me? La Fere is on the road to Vannes."

"Thank you, my dear friend," said Aramis; "but I have an appointment in Paris this evening, and I cannot

"In that case," said Athos, "I must say adieu, and take my leave of you. My dear M. de Baisemeaux, I have to

thank you exceedingly for your good will, and particularly for the specimen you have given me of the Bastille

fare"; and having embraced Aramis, and shaken hands with M. de Baisemeaux, and having received their

While the denouement of the scene of the PalaisRoyal was taking place at the Bastille, let us relate what was

going on at the lodgings of Athos and of Bragelonne. Grimaud, as we have seen, had accompanied his master

to Paris; and, as we have said, he was present when Athos went out. He had seen d'Artagnan gnaw the

corners of his mustache; he had seen his master get into the carriage; he had narrowly examined both their

countenances, and he had known them both for a sufficiently long period to read and understand, through the

mask of their impassiveness, that serious events were taking place. As soon as Athos had gone, he began to

reflect; then he remembered the strange manner in which Athos had taken leave of him, the embarrassment

imperceptible to any one but himself of his master, that man of clear ideas and straightforward will. He

knew that Athos had taken nothing with him but the clothes he had on him at the time; and yet he thought he

saw that Athos had not left for an hour merely, or even for a day: a long absence was signified by the manner

in which he pronounced the word "Adieu." All these circumstances recurred to his mind, with all his feelings

of deep affection for Athos, with that horror of emptiness and solitude which invariably besets the minds of

those who love; and all these, combined, rendered poor Grimaud very melancholy and particularly very

apprehensive. Without being able to account to himself for what he did after his master's departure, he

wandered about the apartment, seeking as it were for some traces of him, like a faithful dog, who is not

exactly uneasy about his absent master, but at least is restless. Only, as to the instinct of the animal Grimaud

joined the reason of a man, he had at the same time restlessness and anxiety. Not having found any indication

which could serve as a guide, and having neither seen nor discovered anything which could satisfy his doubts,

Grimaud began to imagine what could have happened. Now, the imagination is the resource, or rather the

punishment, of good and affectionate hearts. In fact, never does a good heart represent its absent friend to

itself as being happy or cheerful. Never does the pigeon who travels inspire anything but terror to the pigeon

Grimaud soon passed from anxiety to terror; he carefully went over, in his own mind, everything that had

taken place, d'Artagnan's letter to Athos, the letter which had seemed to distress Athos so much; then

Raoul's coming to Athos, upon which Athos had asked for his orders and his court dress; then his interview

with the King, at the end of which Athos had returned home so gloomy; then the explanation between the

father and the son, at the termination of which Athos had embraced Raoul with such sadness of expression,

while Raoul himself went away sorrowfully; and finally, d'Artagnan's arrival, biting his mustache, and his

leaving again in the carriage, accompanied by the Comte de la Fere. All this composed a drama in five acts,

In the first place Grimaud resorted to grand measures: he searched in his master's coat for M. d'Artagnan's

"MY DEAR FRIEND: Raoul has been to ask me for some particulars about the conduct of Mademoiselle de

la Valliere during our young friend's residence in London. I am a poor captain of Musketeers, whose ears are

battered every day by the scandal of the barracks and the bedchamber. If I had told Raoul all I believe I know,

the poor fellow would have died from it; but I am in the King's service, and cannot speak of the King's

affairs. If your heart tells you to do it, set off at once; the matter concerns you more than myself, and almost

Grimaud tore, not a handful, but a fingerandthumbful of hair out of his head; he would have torn out more

"Yes," he said, "that is the key of the whole enigma. The young girl has been playing her pranks. What

people say about her and the King is true, then. Our young master has been deceived; he ought to know it.

Monsieur the Count has been to see the King, and has given him a piece of his mind; and then the King sent

M. d'Artagnan to arrange the affair. Ah, my God!" continued Grimaud, "Monsieur the Count, I now

This discovery made the perspiration break out all over poor Grimaud's face. He did not waste any more time

in useless conjecture, but clapped his hat on his head and started for Raoul's lodgings.

Raoul, after Louise had left him, had mastered his grief, if not his affection; and compelled to look forward

on that perilous road on which madness and rebellion were hurrying him, he had seen, from the very first

glance, his father exposed to the royal obstinacy, since Athos had immediately exposed himself to that

obstinacy. In this moment, when sympathy gave him insight, the unhappy young man recalled the mysterious

signs which Athos had made, and the unexpected visit of d'Artagnan. The probable result of the conflict

between a sovereign and a subject revealed itself to his terrified vision. As d'Artagnan was on duty, that is,

fixed to his post, he certainly had not come to pay Athos a visit merely for the pleasure of seeing him. He

must have come to say something to him. This something, in a crisis so serious, was either a misfortune or a

danger. Raoul shuddered at his selfishness in having forgotten his father for his love, in having occupied

himself with dreams or the fascinations of despair at a time when it was perhaps necessary to repel an

imminent attack directed against Athos. The idea nearly drove him wild; he buckled on his sword and ran

towards his father's lodgings. On his way thither he encountered Grimaud, who having set off from the

opposite direction was running with equal eagerness in search of the truth. The two men embraced each other

warmly; they were both at the same point of the parabola described by their imagination.

"No; if he has kept it from me at my father's, he will do the same everywhere. Let us go to Oh, good

"Who is waiting for and expecting me still! Alas! I have told you correctly, I am mad!"

"Thank goodness, that is in the direction of the Bastille. I will run and saddle the horses, and we will go at

THE worthy Porthos, faithful to all the laws of ancient chivalry, had determined to wait for M. de

SaintAignan until sunset; and as De SaintAignan did not come, as Raoul had forgotten to communicate

with his second, and as he found that waiting so long was very wearisome, Porthos had desired one of the

gatekeepers to fetch him a few bottles of good wine and a good joint of meat, so that he at least might have

the diversion of enjoying from time to time a glass of wine and a mouthful of something to eat. He had just

finished when Raoul arrived escorted by Grimaud, both of them riding at full speed. When Porthos saw the

two cavaliers riding at such a pace along the road, he did not for a moment doubt but that they were the men

he was expecting; and he rose from the grass upon which he had been indolently reclining, and began to

stretch his legs and arms, saying, "See what it is to have good habits! The fellow has come, after all. If I had

gone away, he would have found no one here, and would have taken an advantage from that." He then threw

himself into a martial attitude, and drew himself up to the full height of his gigantic stature. But instead of De

SaintAignan, he saw only Raoul, who with the most despairing gestures accosted him by crying out, "Pray

Porthos gave a start that would have thrown down a wall. "Arrested!" he cried out; "by whom?"

Porthos turned towards Grimaud, as if he needed a second confirmation of the intelligence. Grimaud nodded

"As we came along we questioned some persons who saw the carriage pass, and others who saw it enter the

"Do you know," said Raoul, advancing nearer to Porthos, "that the arrest was made by order of the King?"

Porthos looked at the young man as if to say, "What does that matter to me?" This dumb language seemed so

eloquent of meaning to Raoul that he did not ask another question. He mounted his horse again; and Porthos,

"Well, if d'Artagnan were only here," replied Porthos, "I don't know about that."

Raoul was struck with admiration at the sight of that confidence, heroic in its simplicity. These were the

celebrated men who by three or four attacked armies and assaulted castles, who had terrified death itself, and

who survived the wrecks of an age, and were still stronger than the most robust among the young.

"Monsieur," said he to Porthos, "you have just given me an idea; we absolutely must see M. d'Artagnan."

"He ought by this time to have returned home, after having taken my father to the Bastille. Let us go to his

"First inquire at the Bastille," said Grimaud, who was in the habit of speaking little, but to the purpose.

Accordingly they hastened towards the fortress, when one of those chances which Heaven bestows on men of

strong will caused Grimaud suddenly to perceive the carriage which was entering by the great gate of the

drawbridge. This was at the moment when d'Artagnan was, as we have seen, returning from his visit to the

King. In vain Raoul urged on his horse to overtake the carriage and see whom it contained. The horses had

already gained the other side of the great gate, which again closed, while one of the sentries struck the nose of

Raoul's horse with his musket. Raoul turned about, only too happy to find that he had ascertained something

"If we wait a little, it is certain that he will leave; don't you think so, my friend?"

"Unless, indeed, d'Artagnan also be a prisoner," replied Porthos, "in which case everything is lost."

Raoul returned no answer, for any hypothesis was admissible. He instructed Grimaud to lead the horses to the

little Rue JeanBeausire, so as to give rise to less suspicion, and himself with his piercing gaze watched for

the exit either of d'Artagnan or the carriage. It was a fortunate plan; for twenty minutes had not elapsed

before the gate reopened and the carriage reappeared. A dazzling of the eyes prevented Raoul from

distinguishing what figures occupied the interior. Grimaud averred that he had seen two persons, and that one

of them was his master. Porthos kept looking at Raoul and Grimaud by turns, in the hope of understanding

"It is clear," said Grimaud, "that if the count is in the carriage, either he is set at liberty or they are taking him

"The carriage does not take that way," cried Raoul; and indeed the horses were just disappearing down the

"Let us hasten," said Porthos; "we will attack the carriage on the road, and tell Athos to flee."

Porthos darted a second glance at Raoul, quite worthy of the first. Raoul replied only by spurring the flanks of

his steed. In a few moments the three cavaliers had overtaken the carriage, and followed it so closely that

their horses' breath moistened the back of it. D'Artagnan, whose senses were ever on the alert, heard the trot

of the horses at the moment when Raoul was telling Porthos to pass the chariot so as to see who was the

person accompanying Athos. Porthos complied, but could not see anything, for the blinds were lowered. Rage

and impatience were gaining mastery over Raoul. He had just noticed the mystery preserved by Athos's

companion, and determined on proceeding to extremities. On his part d'Artagnan had clearly recognized

Porthos, and Raoul also, from under the blinds, and had communicated to the count the result of his

observation. They were desirous only of seeing whether Raoul and Porthos would push the affair to the

uttermost. And this they speedily did. Raoul, presenting his pistol, threw himself on the leader, commanding

the coachman to stop. Porthos seized the coachman and dragged him from his seat. Grimaud already had hold

of the carriage door. Raoul threw open his arms, exclaiming, "Monsieur the Count! Monsieur the Count!"

"Not bad, indeed!" added d'Artagnan, with a burst of laughter; and they both embraced the young man and

"My brave Porthos, best of friends!" cried Athos, "it is still the same with you.

"Confound it!" answered Porthos, slightly confused, "we thought that you were arrested."

"While," rejoined Athos, "I was, in fact, only taking a drive in M. d'Artagnan's carriage."

"But we followed you from the Bastille," returned Raoul, with a tone of suspicion and reproach.

"Where we had been to take supper with our good friend M. Baisemeaux. You recollect Baisemeaux,

"And where is Monsieur the Count going?" asked Grimaud, already recompensed by a smile from his master.

"Oh! Raoul would have been instructed to forward me mine, or to bring it with him on his return, if he

"If nothing detains him longer in Paris," said d'Artagnan, with a glance firm and cutting as steel, and as

painful (for it reopened the poor young fellow's wounds), "he will do well to follow you, Athos."

"Oh! as for me, I was only accompanying Athos as far as the barrier, and I return with Porthos."

"Come, my son," added the count, gently passing his arm round Raoul's neck to draw him into the carriage,

and again embracing him. "Grimaud," continued the count, "you will return quietly to Paris with your horse

and M. du Vallon's, for Raoul and I will mount here and give up the carriage to these two gentlemen to return

to Paris in; and then, as soon as you arrive, you will take my clothes and letters, and forward the whole to me

"But," observed Raoul, who was anxious to make the count converse, "when you return to Paris, there will

"I think it will be a very long time, Raoul, ere I return to Paris. The last sojourn we have made there has not

Raoul hung his head, and said not a word more. Athos descended from the carriage, and mounted the horse

which had brought Porthos, and which seemed no little pleased at the exchange. Then they embraced, clasped

one another's hands, and interchanged a thousand pledges of eternal friendship. Porthos promised to spend a

month with Athos at the first opportunity. D'Artagnan engaged to take advantage of his first leave of absence;

and then, having embraced Raoul for the last time, "To you, my boy," said he, "I will write." Coming from

d'Artagnan, who he knew wrote but very seldom, these words expressed everything. Raoul was moved even

D'Artagnan rejoined Porthos in the carriage. "Well," said he, "my dear friend, what a day we have had!"

"You make me shudder, my friend; you seem to me quite angry. What the devil have you begun which is not

"Look now, this is what I mean: you draw your sword against the King in fighting with this gentleman."

"We must try and make a good supper, Porthos. The captain of the Musketeers keeps a tolerable table. There

"But, body alive! I am not talking to you about the King at all; I am speaking of M. de SaintAignan."

THE reader has not forgotten that, on quitting the Bastille, d'Artagnan and the Comte de la Fere had left

Aramis in close confabulation with Baisemeaux. When once these two guests had departed, Baisemeaux did

not in the least perceive that the conversation suffered by their absence. He thought that wine after supper,

and that of the Bastille in particular, was excellent; and that it was a stimulant quite sufficient to make an

honest man talk. But he little knew his Greatness, who was never more impenetrable than at dessert. His

Greatness, however, perfectly understood M. de Baisemeaux, when he reckoned on making the governor

discourse by the means which the latter regarded as efficacious. The conversation, therefore, without flagging

in appearance, flagged in reality; for Baisemeaux not only had it nearly all to himself, but further, kept

speaking only of that singular event, the incarceration of Athos, followed by so prompt an order to set him

again at liberty. Nor, moreover, had Baisemeaux failed to observe that the order of arrest and that of

liberation were both in the King's hand. But the King would not take the trouble to write such orders except

under pressing circumstances. All this was very interesting, and, above all, very puzzling to Baisemeaux; but

as, on the other hand, all this was very clear to Aramis, the latter did not attach to the occurrence the same

importance as did the worthy governor. Besides, Aramis rarely put himself out of the way for anything, and

he had not yet told M. de Baisemeaux for what reason he had now done so; and so, at the very climax of

"Tell me, my dear M. Baisemeaux," said he, "have you never had any other diversions at the Bastille than

those at which I have assisted during the two or three visits I have had the honor to pay you?"

This address was so unexpected that the governor, like a vane which suddenly receives an impulsion opposed

to that of the wind, was quite dumfounded at it. "Diversions!" said he; "but I take them continually,

"Oh, no! Your prisoners, indeed! I know well it is you who visit them, and not they you. By your society I

Baisemeaux looked fixedly at Aramis, and then, as if the idea which had flashed across his mind were

impossible, "Oh!" he said, "I have very little society at present. If I must own it to you, my dear M. d'Herblay,

the fact is, to stay at the Bastille appears for the most part distressing and distasteful to persons of the gay

world. As for the ladies, it is never without a dread, which costs me infinite trouble to allay, that they come to

my quarters. And, indeed, how should they avoid trembling a little, poor things, when they see those gloomy

dungeons, and reflect that they are inhabited by prisoners who" In proportion as the eyes of Baisemeaux

concentrated their gaze on the face of Aramis, the worthy governor's tongue faltered more and more, until

"No, you don't understand me, my dear M. Baisemeaux, you don't understand me. I do not at all mean to

speak of society in general, but of a particular society, of the society, in a word, to which you are affiliated."

Baisemeaux nearly dropped the glass of muscat which he was in the act of raising to his lips. "Affiliated?"

"Yes, affiliated, undoubtedly," repeated Aramis, with the greatest selfpossession. "Are you not a member of

"Listen to me, my dear M. Baisemeaux! I say 'yes,' you say 'no.' One of us two necessarily says what is true;

"Now drink your glass of muscat, dear M. Baisemeaux," said Aramis. "What the devil! you look quite

"Well," resumed Aramis, "if, I say, you are not a member of a society, secret or mysterious, whichever you

like to call it, the epithet is of no consequence, if, I say, you are not a member of a society similar to that I

wish to designate, well, then, you will not understand a word of what I am going to say, that is all."

"That is what I am going to do. If, on the contrary, you are one of the members of this society, you will

"You will agree, dear M. de Baisemeaux," continued Aramis, with the same impassiveness, "that it is evident

a man cannot be a member of a society, it is evident that he cannot enjoy the advantages it offers to the

"Well," resumed Aramis, "there is in the society of which I speak, and of which, as it seems, you are not a

"There is an engagement entered into by all the governors and captains of fortresses affiliated to the order."

Baisemeaux grew pale. "Now the engagement," continued Aramis, firmly, "is of this nature."

Baisemeaux rose, manifesting unspeakable emotion. "Go on, dear M. d'Herblay; go on!" said he.

Aramis then spoke, or rather recited, the following sentence, in the same tone as if he had been reading it

from a book: "The aforesaid captain or governor of a fortress shall allow to enter, when need shall arise, and

on demand of the prisoner, a confessor affiliated to the order." He stopped. Baisemeaux was quite distressing

to look at, being so wretchedly pale and trembling. "Is not that the text of the agreement?" quietly asked

"Monseigneur," cried Baisemeaux, "do not trifle so with my unhappy mind! I find myself nothing in your

hands, if you have the malignant desire to draw from me the little secrets of my administration."

"Oh, by no means! Pray undeceive yourself, dear M. Baisemeaux; it is not the little secrets of your

"Well, then, my conscience be it, my dear M. d'Herblay! But have some consideration for the situation I am

"It is no ordinary one, my dear Monsieur," continued the inflexible Aramis, "if you are a member of this

society; but it is quite a natural one if, free from all engagements, you are answerable only to the King."

"Well, Monsieur, well! I obey only the King. Good God! whom else would you have a French gentleman

Aramis did not yield an inch; but with that silvery voice of his continued: "It is very pleasant for a French

gentleman, for a prelate of France, to hear a man of your mark express himself so loyally, dear De

"I have no longer any doubt that such a man as you, Monsieur," said Aramis, gravely, "does not faithfully

"Oh, yes! I understand that it is a more difficult position to have several masters than one; but the

embarrassment is owing to you, my dear Baisemeaux, and I am not the cause of it."

"Certainly not," returned the unfortunate governor, more embarrassed than ever; "but what are you doing?

"Because I have no longer anything to do here; and, indeed, I have duties to fulfil elsewhere."

"Yes; understand me now, my dear M. de Baisemeaux. They told me at the place whence I came, 'The

aforesaid governor or captain will allow to enter, as need shall arise, on the prisoner's demand, a confessor

affiliated with the order.' I came; you do not know what I mean, and so I shall return to tell them that they are

"The confessor affiliated to the order," said Aramis, without changing his voice.

But, gentle as the words were, they had the same effect on the unhappy governor as a clap of thunder.

Baisemeaux became livid, and it seemed to him as if Aramis's beaming eyes were two forks of flame,

piercing to the very bottom of his soul. "The confessor!" murmured he; "you, Monseigneur, the confessor of

"Yes, I; but we have nothing to unravel together, seeing that you are not one of the affiliated."

"Nevertheless, M. de Baisemeaux, what has passed wears very much the air of resistance."

"Of nothing at all, Monseigneur." Baisemeaux lowered his voice, and bending before the prelate said, "I am

"Very good. I like you better thus, Monsieur," said Aramis, as he resumed his seat, and put out his glass to

Baisemeaux, whose hand trembled so that he could not fill it. "You were saying 'but'" continued Aramis.

"Does not the Gospel say, 'Watch, for the moment is known only of God'? Do not the rules of the order say,

'Watch; for that which I will, you ought always to will also'? And on what pretext is it that you did not expect

"M. de Baisemeaux," said Aramis, turning round in his chair, "here is your servant, who wishes to speak with

you"; and at this moment Baisemeaux's servant appeared at the threshold of the door.

The messenger entered, saluted, and handed in the report. Baisemeaux ran his eye over it, and raising his

"How was it, then," said Aramis, carelessly, "that you told me everybody was well in your hotel, M. de

Baisemeaux?" and he emptied his glass without removing his eyes from Baisemeaux.

The governor then made a sign to the messenger, and when he had quitted the room said, still trembling, "I

"Yes, it is so"; answered Aramis. "But see what it is they want with you now, dear M. de Baisemeaux."

At that moment a sergeant put his head in at the door. "What do you want now?" cried Baisemeaux. "Can you

"Monsieur," said the sergeant, "the sick man, No. 2 Bertaudiere, has commissioned the turnkey to request you

Baisemeaux very nearly sank on the floor; but Aramis disdained to reassure him, just as he had disdained to

"Just what you please," replied Aramis, compressing his lips; "that is your business. I am not governor of the

"Tell the prisoner," cried Baisemeaux, quickly, "tell the prisoner that his request is granted." The sergeant

left the room. "Oh, Monseigneur, Monseigneur," murmured Baisemeaux, "how could I have suspected? how

"Who told you to suspect, and who asked you to foresee?" contemptuously answered Aramis. "The order

"I? nothing at all. I am nothing but a poor priest, a simple confessor. Have I your orders to go and see the

SINCE Aramis's singular transformation into a confessor of the order, Baisemeaux was no longer the same

man. Up to that period the place which Aramis had held in the worthy governor's estimation was that of a

prelate whom he respected and a friend to whom he owed a debt of gratitude; but after that revelation which

had upset all his ideas, he felt himself an inferior, and that Aramis was his master. He himself lighted a

lantern, summoned a turnkey, and said, returning to Aramis, "I am at your orders, Monseigneur."

Aramis merely nodded his head, as much as to say, "Very good"; and signed to him with his hand to lead the

It was a beautiful starry night; the steps of the three men resounded on the flags of the terraces, and the

clinking of the keys hanging from the jailer's girdle made itself heard up to the stories of the towers, as if to

remind the prisoners that liberty was out of their reach. It might have been said that the alteration effected in

Baisemeaux had extended itself even to the prisoners. The turnkey, the same who on Aramis's first arrival

had shown himself so inquisitive and curious, had now become not only silent, but even impassible. He held

his head down, and seemed afraid to keep his ears open. In this wise they reached the basement of the

Bertaudiere, the first two stories of which were mounted silently and somewhat slowly; for Baisemeaux,

though far from disobeying, was far from exhibiting any eagerness to obey. Finally, they arrived at the door.

The jailer had the key ready, and opened the door. Baisemeaux showed a disposition to enter the prisoner's

chamber; but Aramis, stopping him on the threshold, said, "The rules do not allow the governor to hear the

Baisemeaux bowed, and made way for Aramis, who took the lantern and entered, and then signed to them to

close the door behind him. For an instant he remained standing, listening to learn whether Baisemeaux and

the turnkey had retired; but as soon as he was assured by the dying sound of their footsteps that they had left

the tower, he put the lantern on the table and gazed around. On a bed of green serge, similar in all respects to

the other beds in the Bastille, save that it was newer, under ample curtains half drawn, reposed a young man

to whom we have once before introduced Aramis. According to custom, the prisoner was without a light. At

the hour of curfew he was bound to extinguish his lamp; it may be seen how much he was favored in being

allowed to keep it burning until that hour. Near the bed a large leathern armchair, with twisted legs, held his

clothes. A little table without pens, books, paper, or ink stood deserted near the window; while several

plates, still unemptied, showed that the prisoner had scarcely touched his recent repast. Aramis saw that the

young man was stretched upon his bed, his face half concealed by his arms. The arrival of a visitor did not

cause any change of position; either he was waiting in expectation or he was asleep. Aramis lighted the

candle from the lantern, pushed back the armchair, and approached the bed with an appearance of mingled

The young man gave Aramis a piercing glance, and answered, "I thank you." After a moment's silence, "I

Doubtless the scrutiny which the prisoner had just made of the cold, crafty, and imperious character stamped

upon the features of the bishop of Vannes was little reassuring to one in his situation, for he added, "I am

"Why, then, being better, I have no longer the same need of a confessor, I think."

"Not even of the haircloth, of which the note you found in your bread informed you?"

The young man started; but before he had either assented or denied, Aramis continued, "Not even of the

"If it be so," said the young man, sinking again on his pillow, "it is different; I listen."

Aramis then looked at him more closely, and was struck with the easy majesty of his mien, one which can

"What do you call liberty, Monsieur?" asked the prisoner, with the tone of a man who is preparing for a

"I call liberty the flowers, the air, light, the stars, the happiness of going whithersoever the nervous limbs of

The young man smiled, whether in resignation or contempt, it would have been difficult to tell. "Look!" said

he; "I have in that Japanese vase two roses gathered yesterday evening in the bud from the governor's garden.

This morning they have blown and spread their vermilion chalices beneath my gaze; with every opening petal

they unfold the treasures of their perfume, filling my chamber with fragrance. Look now on these two roses;

even among roses these are beautiful, and the rose is the most beautiful of flowers. Why, then, do you bid me

"If flowers constitute liberty," sadly resumed the captive, "I am free, for I possess them."

"Well, Monsieur," returned the prisoner, "draw near to the window; it is open. Between Heaven and earth the

wind whirls its storms of hail and lightning, wafts its warm mists, or breathes in gentle breezes. It caresses

my face. When mounted on the back of this armchair, with my arm around the bars of the window to sustain

"Light!" continued the prisoner, "I have what is better than light! I have the sun, a friend who comes to

visit me every day without the permission of the governor or the jailer's company. He comes in at the

window, and traces in my room a quadrilateral which starts from the window and reaches to the hangings of

my bed. This luminous figure increases from ten o'clock till midday, and decreases from one till three slowly,

as if, having hastened to come, it sorrowed at leaving me. When its last ray disappears, I have enjoyed its

presence for four hours. Is not that sufficient? I have been told that there are unhappy beings who dig in

"As to the stars which are so delightful to view," continued the young man, "they all resemble one another

save in size and brilliancy. I am a favored mortal; for if you had not lighted that candle, you would have been

able to see the beautiful star which I was gazing at from my couch before your arrival, and whose rays were

Aramis lowered his head; he felt himself overwhelmed by the bitter flow of that sinister philosophy which is

"So much, then, for the flowers, the air, the daylight, and the stars," tranquilly continued the young man;

"there remains freedom of movement. Do I not walk all day in the governor's garden if it is fine; here, if it

rains; in the fresh air, if it is warm; in the warm, thanks to my fireplace, if it be cold? Ah, Monsieur, do you

fancy," continued the prisoner, not without bitterness, "that men have not done everything for me that a man

"Men!" said Aramis, raising his head; "be it so! But it seems to me you forget Heaven."

"Indeed, I have forgotten Heaven," murmured the prisoner, without emotion; "but why do you mention it? Of

Aramis looked steadily at this singular youth, who possessed the resignation of a martyr with the smile of an

"Every prisoner has committed some crime for which he has been imprisoned. What crime, then, have you

"You asked me the same question the first time you saw me," returned the prisoner.

"Then, if you wish me to tell what crime I have committed, explain to me in what a crime consists; for as my

"We are often criminals in the sight of the great of the earth, not alone for having ourselves committed

The prisoner manifested the deepest attention. "Yes, I understand you," he said, after a pause; "yes, you are

right, Monsieur. It is very possible that in that light I am a criminal in the eyes of the great."

"Ah! then you know something," said Aramis, who thought he had pierced not merely through a defect in the

"No, I am not aware of anything," replied the young man; "but sometimes I think, and I say to myself in those

"That if I were to think any further, I should either go mad or I should divine a great deal."

"Yes; my head becomes confused, and my ideas melancholy. I feel ennui overtaking me; I wish"

"I don't know; but I do not like to give myself up to longing for things which I do not possess, when I am so

Aramis felt the chill of that smile, and shuddered. "Oh, as you fear death, you know more than you admit!" he

"And you," returned the prisoner, "who bade me to ask to see you, you, who when I did ask for you came

here promising a world of confidence, how is it that, nevertheless, it is you who are silent, and 't is I who

speak? Since, then, we both wear masks, either let us both retain them or put them aside together."

Aramis felt the force and justice of the remark, saying to himself, "This is no ordinary man." "Are you

ambitious?" said he suddenly to the prisoner, aloud, without preparing him for the alteration.

"It is," replied Aramis, "a feeling which prompts a man to desire more than he has."

"I said that I was contented, Monsieur; but perhaps I deceive myself. I am ignorant of the nature of ambition;

but it is not impossible I may have some. Come, open my mind; I ask nothing better."

"An ambitious man," said Aramis, "is one who covets what is beyond his station."

"I covet nothing beyond my station," said the young man, with an assurance of manner which yet again made

Aramis was silent. But to look at the kindling eye, the knitted brow, and the reflective attitude of the captive,

it was evident that he expected something more than silence. That silence Aramis now broke. "You lied the

"Lied!" cried the young man, starting up on his couch, with such a tone in his voice and such lightning in his

"I should say," returned Aramis, bowing, "you concealed from me what you knew of your infancy."

"A man's secrets are his own, Monsieur," retorted the prisoner, "and not at the mercy of the first

"True," said Aramis, bowing still lower than before, "'t is true; pardon me, but today do I still occupy the

This title slightly disturbed the prisoner; but nevertheless he did not appear astonished that it was given to

The young man seemed as if he were going to give Aramis his hand; but the light which beamed in his eyes

faded away, and he coldly and distrustfully withdrew his hand. "Kiss the hand of a prisoner!" he said, shaking

"Why did you tell me," said Aramis, "that you were happy here? Why, that you aspired to nothing? Why, in a

The same light shone a third time in the young man's eyes, but died as before, without leading to anything.

"Oh, for a very simple reason! If you know what you ought to know, you ought to mistrust everybody."

"Then be not astonished that I am mistrustful, since you suspect me of knowing what I know not."

Aramis was struck with admiration at this energetic resistance. "Oh, Monseigneur, you drive me to despair!"

"Well, then, try to understand me." The prisoner looked fixedly at Aramis. "Sometimes it seems to me," said

"And then your man disappears, is it not so?" said the prisoner, smiling. "So much the better."

Aramis rose. "Certainly," said he; "I have nothing further to say to a man who mistrusts me as you do."

"And I, Monsieur," said the prisoner, in the same tone, "have nothing to say to a man who will not understand

"Do you no longer remember," said Aramis, "that you once saw in the village where your early years were

"Go on!" said the young man, without expression of assent or denial on his countenance.

"Stay, Monseigneur!" said Aramis; "if you are positively resolved to carry on this game, let us break off. I am

here to tell you many things, 't is true; but you must allow me to see that, on your side, you have a desire to

know them. Before revealing the important matters I conceal, be assured that I am in need of some

encouragement, if not candor; a little sympathy, if not confidence. But you keep yourself intrenched in a

pretended ignorance which paralyzes me. Oh, not for the reason you think; for ignorant as you may be, or

indifferent as you feign to be, you are none the less what you are, Monseigneur, and there is nothing

"I promise you," replied the prisoner, "to hear you without impatience. Only it appears to me that I have a

"Do you remember, fifteen or eighteen years ago, seeing at NoisyleSec a cavalier, accompanied by a lady

"Yes," said the young man; "I once asked the name of this cavalier, and was told that he called himself the

Abbe d'Herblay. I was astonished that the abbe had so warlike an air, and was told that there was nothing

"Well," said Aramis, "that musketeer of other times, that abbe afterwards, then bishop of Vannes, is today

"Then, Monseigneur, if you know that, I must add a fact of which you are ignorant, that if the King were to

know this evening of the presence here of this musketeer, this abbe, this bishop, this confessor, he who has

risked everything to visit you would tomorrow see glitter the executioner's axe at the bottom of a dungeon

While hearing these words, delivered with emphasis, the young man had raised himself on his couch and

gazed more and more eagerly at Aramis. The result of this scrutiny was that he appeared to derive some

confidence from it. "Yes," he murmured, "I remember perfectly. The woman of whom you speak came once

"With another woman who came to see you every month, is it not so, Monseigneur?"

The light seemed ready to flash from the prisoner's eyes. "I am aware that she was a lady of the court," he

"Oh, my recollection can hardly be very confused on this head!" said the young prisoner. "I saw that lady

once with a gentleman about fortyfive years old. I saw her once with you, and with the lady dressed in black

with flamecolored ribbons. I have seen her twice since with the same person. These four persons, with my

tutor and old Perronnette, my jailer and the governor of the prison, are the only persons with whom I have

"If I am a prisoner here, there I was comparatively free, although in a very narrow sense. A house which I

never quitted, a garden surrounded with walls I could not clear, these constituted my residence; but you

know it, as you have been there. In a word, being accustomed to live within these bounds, I never cared to

leave them. And so you will understand, Monsieur, that not having seen anything of the world, I can desire

nothing; and therefore, if you relate anything, you will be obliged to explain everything to me."

"A worthy and above all an honorable gentleman, Monseigneur; fit guide both for body and soul. Had you

"Oh, no; quite the contrary. But this gentleman of yours often used to tell me that my father and mother were

"And I and I, then [the young man looked sharply at Aramis], am compelled to live in the obscurity of a

"And that because my presence in the world would lead to the revelation of a great secret?"

"My enemy must indeed be powerful, to be able to shut up in the Bastille a child such as I then was."

"Seeing, then, that my nurse and preceptor were carried off, and that I also was separated from them, either

"Yes; a peril from which he freed himself by causing the nurse and preceptor to disappear," answered

The young man turned visibly pale, and passed his hand tremblingly over his face. "From poison?" he asked.

The prisoner reflected a moment. "My enemy must indeed have been very cruel, or hard beset by necessity,

to assassinate those two innocent persons, my sole support; for that worthy gentleman and that poor woman

"In your family, Monseigneur, necessity is stern. And so it is necessity which compels me, to my great regret,

"Oh, you tell me nothing I am not aware of!" said the prisoner, knitting his brows.

At this moment the young man, supporting himself on his elbows, drew close to Aramis's face, with such an

expression of dignity, of selfcommand, and of defiance even, that the bishop felt the electricity of

enthusiasm strike in devouring flashes from that seared heart of his into his brain of adamant.

"Speak, Monseigneur! I have already told you that by conversing with you I endanger my life. Little value as

"Well," resumed the young man, "this is why I suspected that they had killed my nurse and my preceptor"

"Just as you, Monsieur, are too respectful for a friend, he was also too respectful for a father."

The young man nodded assent, and continued: "Undoubtedly, I was not destined to perpetual seclusion," said

the prisoner; "and that which makes me believe so now, above all, is the care that was taken to render me as

accomplished a cavalier as possible. The gentleman attached to my person taught me everything he knew

himself mathematics, a little geometry, astronomy, fencing, and riding. Every morning I went through

military exercises, and practised on horseback. Well, one morning during summer, it being very hot, I went to

sleep in the hall. Nothing up to that period, except the respect paid me by my tutor, had enlightened me, or

even roused my suspicions. I lived as children, as birds, as plants, as the air and the sun do. I had just turned

"He used to say that a man was bound to make for himself in the world that fortune which Heaven had

refused him at his birth. He added, that, being a poor obscure orphan, I had no one but myself to look to; and

that nobody either did or ever would take any interest in me. I was, then, in the hall I have spoken of, asleep

from fatigue in fencing. My tutor was in his room on the first floor, just over me. Suddenly I heard him

exclaim; and then he called, 'Perronnette! Perronnette!' It was my nurse whom he called."

"Very likely she was in the garden; for my tutor came hastily downstairs. I rose, anxious at seeing him

anxious. He opened the garden door, still crying out, 'Perronnette! Perronnette!' The windows of the hall

looked into the court. The shutters were closed; but through a chink in them I saw my tutor draw near a large

well, which was almost directly under the windows of his study. He stooped over the brim, looked into the

well, again cried out, and made wild and affrighted gestures. Where I was, I could not only see, but hear; and

"Dame Perronnette came running up, hearing the governor's cries. He went to meet her, took her by the arm,

and drew her quickly towards the edge; after which, as they both bent over it together, 'Look, look!' cried he;

'what a misfortune!' 'Calm yourself, calm yourself,' said Perronnette; 'what is the matter?' 'The letter!' he

exclaimed; 'do you see that letter?' to the bottom of the well. 'What letter?' she cried. 'The letter you see down

there, the last letter from the Queen.' At this word I trembled. My tutor he who passed for my father, he

who was continually recommending to me modesty and humility in correspondence with the Queen! 'The

Queen's last letter!' cried Perronnette, without showing other astonishment than at seeing this letter at the

bottom of the well; 'but how came it there?' 'A chance, Dame Perronnette, a singular chance. I was entering

my room; and on opening the door, the window too being open, a puff of air came suddenly and carried off

this paper, this letter from the Queen; I darted after it, and gained the window just in time to see it flutter a

moment in the breeze and disappear down the well.' 'Well,' said Dame Perronnette; 'and if the letter has fallen

into the well, 't is all the same as if it were burned; and as the Queen burns all her letters every time she

comes' 'Every time she comes!' So this lady who came every month was the Queen," said the prisoner.

"'Doubtless, doubtless,' continued the old gentleman; 'but this letter contained instructions, how can I follow

them?' 'Write immediately to her; give her a plain account of the accident, and the Queen will no doubt write

you another letter in place of this.' 'Oh! the Queen would never believe the story,' said the good gentleman,

shaking his head; 'she will imagine that I want to keep this letter instead of giving it up like the rest, so as to

have a hold over her. She is so distrustful, and M. de Mazarin so This devil of an Italian is capable of having

"'You know, Dame Perronnette, they are both so suspicious in all that concerns Philippe.' 'Philippe' was the

name they gave me," said the prisoner. 'Well, 't is no use hesitating,' said Dame Perronnette; 'somebody must

go down the well.' 'Of course; so that the person who goes down may read the paper as he is coming up.' 'But

let us choose some villager who cannot read, and then you will be at ease.' 'Granted; but will not any one who

descends guess that a paper must be important for which we risk a man's life? However, you have given me

an idea, Dame Perronnette; somebody shall go down the well, but that somebody shall be myself.' But at this

notion Dame Perronnette lamented and cried in such a manner, and so implored the old nobleman, with tears

in her eyes, that he promised her to obtain a ladder long enough to reach down, while she went in search of

some stouthearted youth, whom she was to persuade that a jewel had fallen into the well, and that this jewel

was wrapped in a paper. 'And as paper,' remarked my preceptor, 'naturally unfolds in water, the young man

would not be surprised at finding nothing, after all, but the letter wide open.' 'But perhaps the writing will be

already effaced by that time,' said Dame Perronnette. 'No consequence, provided we secure the letter. On

returning it to the Queen, she will see at once that we have not betrayed her; and consequently, as we shall

not rouse the distrust of Mazarin, we shall have nothing to fear from him.' Having come to this resolution,

they parted. I pushed back the shutter, and seeing that my tutor was about to reenter, threw myself on my

couch, in a confusion of brain caused by all I had just heard. My tutor opened the door a few moments after,

and thinking I was asleep, gently closed it again. As soon as ever it was shut, I rose, and listening heard the

sound of retiring footsteps. Then I returned to the shutter, and saw my tutor and Dame Perronnette go out

together. I was alone in the house. They had hardly closed the gate before I sprang from the window and ran

to the well. Then, just as my tutor had leaned over, so leaned I. Something white and luminous glistened in

the green and quivering ripples of the water. The brilliant disk fascinated and allured me; my eyes became

fixed, and I could hardly breathe. The well seemed to draw me in with its large mouth and icy breath; and I

thought I read, at the bottom of the water, characters of fire traced upon the letter the Queen had touched.

Then, scarcely knowing what I was about, and urged on by one of those instinctive impulses which drive men

upon their destruction, I made fast one end of the rope to the bottom of the wellcurb; I left the bucket

hanging about three feet under water, at the same time taking infinite pains not to disturb that coveted letter,

which was beginning to change its white tint for a greenish hue, proof enough that it was sinking, and then,

with a piece of wet canvas protecting my hands, slid down into the abyss. When I saw myself hanging over

the dark pool, when I saw the sky lessening above my head, a cold shudder came over me, I was seized with

giddiness, and the hair rose on my head; but my strong will mastered all. I gained the water, and at once

plunged into it, holding on by one hand, while I immersed the other and seized the precious paper, which,

alas! came in two in my grasp. I concealed the fragments in my coat, and helping myself with my feet against

the side of the pit, and clinging on with my hands, agile and vigorous as I was, and above all pressed for time,

I regained the brink, drenching it as I touched it with the water that streamed from all the lower part of my

body. Once out of the well with my prize I rushed into the sunlight, and took refuge in a kind of shrubbery at

the bottom of the garden. As I entered my hidingplace, the bell which resounded when the gate was opened,

rang. It was my tutor returning. I had but just time. I calculated that it would take ten minutes before he

would gain my place of concealment, even if, guessing where I was, he came straight to it; and twenty if he

were obliged to look for me. But this was time enough to allow me to read the cherished letter, whose

fragments I hastened to unite again. The writing was already fading, but I managed to decipher it all."

"Quite enough, Monsieur, to see that my tutor was a man of noble rank, and that Perronnette, without being a

lady of quality, was far better than a servant; and also to perceive that I must myself be highborn, since the

Queen, Anne of Austria, and Mazarin, the prime minister, commended me so earnestly to their care."

"It happened, Monsieur," answered he, "that the workmen they had summoned found nothing in the well,

after the closest search; that my tutor perceived that the brink was watery; that I was not so well dried by the

sun as to escape Dame Perronnette's observing that my garments were moist; and, lastly, that I was seized

with a violent fever, owing to the chill and the excitement of my discovery, an attack of delirium

supervening, during which I related the whole adventure; so that, guided by my avowal, my tutor found under

"Beyond this, all is conjecture. Doubtless the unfortunate lady and gentleman, not daring to keep the

occurrence secret, wrote all to the Queen, and sent back to her the torn letter."

"Let us not take up our time with the dead, but see what can be done with the living. You told me you were

"I think that I have spoken enough," answered the prisoner, "and that now it is your turn. I am weary."

Aramis gathered himself up, and a shade of deep solemnity spread itself over his countenance. It was evident

that he had reached the crisis in the part he had come to the prison to play. "One question," said Aramis.

"In the house you inhabited there were neither lookingglasses nor mirrors, were there?"

"What are those two words, and what is their meaning?" asked the young man; "I do not even know them."

"They designate two pieces of furniture which reflect objects; so that, for instance, you may see in them your

"No; there was neither a glass nor a mirror in the house," answered the young man.

Aramis looked round him. "Nor is there here, either," he said; "they have taken the same precaution."

"You will know directly. Now, you have told me that you were instructed in mathematics, astronomy,

"My tutor sometimes related to me the principal deeds of the King Saint Louis, King Francis I, and King

"This also was done by design; just as you were deprived of mirrors, which reflect the present, so you were

left in ignorance of history, which reflects the past. Since your imprisonment books have been forbidden you;

so that you are unacquainted with a number of facts by means of which you would be able to reconstruct the

"Listen, then: I will in a few words tell you what has passed in France during the last twentythree or

twentyfour years, that is, from the probable date of your birth; in a word, from the time that interests you."

"By means of a coin dated 1610, which bears the effigy of Henry IV; and another of 1612, bearing that of

Louis XIII. So I presumed that, there being only two years between the two dates, Louis was Henry's

"Well, he was a prince full of noble ideas and great projects, always, alas! deferred by the troubles of the

times and the struggle that his minister Richelieu had to maintain against the great nobles of France. The

"He had been long anxious about having an heir, a care which weighs heavily on princes, who desire to

leave behind them more than one pledge that they will be remembered and their work will be continued."

"No; but he was long without one, and for a long while thought he should be the last of his race. This idea

had reduced him to the depths of despair, when suddenly his wife, Anne of Austria"

"Did you know," said Aramis, "that Louis XIII's wife was called Anne of Austria?"

"When suddenly," resumed Aramis, "the Queen announced an interesting event. There was great joy at the

intelligence, and all prayed for her happy delivery. On the 5th of September, 1638, she gave birth to a son."

Here Aramis looked at his companion, and thought he observed him turning pale. "You are about to hear,"

said Aramis, "an account which few could now give; for it refers to a secret which is thought to be buried

"Oh!" said Aramis, with unmistakable emphasis, "I do not know that I ought to risk this secret by intrusting it

"The Queen, then, gave birth to a son. But while the court was rejoicing over the event, when the King had

shown the newborn child to the nobility and people, and was sitting gayly down to table to celebrate the

event, the Queen, who was alone in her room, was again taken ill, and gave birth to a second son."

"Oh!" said the prisoner, betraying a better acquaintance with affairs than he had admitted, "I thought that

"Yes," said Aramis, "the Queen had a second son, whom Dame Perronnette, the midwife, received in her

"They ran at once to the banquetingroom, and whispered to the King what had happened; he rose and

quitted the table. But this time it was no longer happiness that his face expressed, but something akin to

terror. The birth of twins changed into bitterness the joy to which that of an only son had given rise, seeing

that in France (a fact of which you are assuredly ignorant) it is the oldest of the king's sons who succeeds his

"And that the doctors and jurists assert that there is ground for doubting whether he who first makes his

The prisoner uttered a smothered cry, and became whiter than the coverlet under which he hid himself.

"Now you understand," pursued Aramis, "that the King, who with so much pleasure saw himself repeated in

one, was in despair about two; fearing that the second might dispute the claim of the first to seniority, which

had been recognized only two hours before, and so this second son, relying on party interests and caprices,

might one day sow discord and engender civil war in the kingdom, by these means destroying the very

"Well," continued Aramis, "this is what is related; this is why one of the Queen's two sons, shamefully parted

from his brother, shamefully sequestered, is buried in the profoundest obscurity; this is why that second son

has disappeared, and so completely that not a soul in France, save his mother, is aware of his existence."

"Yes; his mother, who has cast him off!" cried the prisoner, in a tone of despair.

"Except also," Aramis went on, "the lady in the black dress; and, finally, excepting"

"Excepting yourself, is it not, you, who come and relate all this, you, who come to rouse in my soul

curiosity, hatred, ambition, and perhaps even the thirst of vengeance; except you, Monsieur, who, if you are

the man whom I expect, to whom the note I have received applies, whom, in short, Heaven ought to send me,

"A portrait of the King, Louis XIV, who at this moment reigns upon the throne of France."

"Here is the portrait," replied the bishop, handing the prisoner a miniature in enamel, on which Louis was

depicted lifelike, with a handsome, lofty mien. The prisoner eagerly seized the portrait, and gazed at it with

"So high, so high!" murmured the young man, eagerly comparing the likeness of Louis with his own

"I think that I am lost," replied the captive; "the King will never set me free."

"And I I demand," added the bishop, fixing his piercing eyes significantly upon the prisoner, "I demand

which of the two is the King, the one whom this miniature portrays, or the one whom the glass reflects?"

"The King, Monsieur," sadly replied the young man, "is he who is on the throne, who is not in prison, and

who, on the other hand, can cause others to be entombed there. Royalty is power; and you see well how

"Monseigneur," answered Aramis, with a respect he had not yet manifested, "the King, mark me, will, if you

desire it, be he who quitting his dungeon shall maintain himself upon the throne on which his friends will

"Be not weak, Monseigneur," persisted Aramis, "I have brought all the proofs of your birth: consult them;

"Unless, indeed," resumed the bishop, ironically, "it be the destiny of your race that the brothers excluded

from the throne shall be always princes without valor and without honor, as was your uncle M. Gaston

"What!" cried the Prince, astonished; "my uncle Gaston 'conspired against his brother,' conspired to

"He failed, I admit, but always through his own fault; and for the sake of purchasing, not his life (for the life

of the King's brother is sacred and inviolable), but his liberty, he sacrificed the lives of all his friends, one

after another; and so at this day he is the very shame of history, and the detestation of a hundred noble

"I understand, Monsieur; either by weakness or treachery, my uncle slew his friends."

"And cannot a man fail, then, from incapacity and ignorance? Do you really believe it possible that a poor

captive such as I, brought up not only at a distance from the court, but even from the world, do you believe

it possible that such a one could assist those of his friends who should attempt to serve him?" And as Aramis

was about to reply, the young man suddenly cried out, with a violence which betrayed the temper of his

blood: "We are speaking of friends; but how can I have any friends, I, whom no one knows, and who have

"Oh, do not style me so, Monsieur; 't is either irony or cruelty! Do not lead me to think of aught else than

these prison walls which confine me; let me again love, or at least submit to, my slavery and my obscurity."

"Monseigneur, Monseigneur! if you again utter these desperate words, if after having received proof of your

high birth you still remain poorspirited and of feeble purpose, I will comply with your desire, I will depart,

and renounce forever the service of a master to whom so eagerly I came to devote my assistance and my

"Monsieur," cried the Prince, "would it not have been better for you to have reflected, before telling me all

"Is a prison the fitting place to talk to me about power, grandeur, and even royalty? You wish to make me

believe in splendor, and we are lying hidden in night; you boast of glory, and we are smothering our words in

the curtains of this miserable bed; you give me glimpses of absolute power, and I hear the step of the jailer in

the corridor, that step which, after all, makes you tremble more than it does me. To render me somewhat

less incredulous, free me from the Bastille; give air to my lungs, spurs to my feet, a sword to my arm, and we

"It is precisely my intention to give you all this, Monseigneur, and more; only, do you desire it?"

"A word more," said the Prince. "I know there are guards in every gallery, bolts to every door, cannon and

soldiery at every barrier. How will you overcome the sentries, spike the guns? How will you break through

"Well, I admit that it may be possible to release a poor captive from the Bastille; possible so to conceal him

that the King's people shall not again ensnare him; possible, in some unknown retreat, to sustain the unhappy

"I admit that whoever would do thus much for me would seem more than mortal in my eyes; but as you tell

me I am a prince, brother of a king, how can you restore me the rank and power of which my mother and my

brother have deprived me? And as I must pass a life of war and hatred, how will you make me conqueror in

those combats, and invulnerable to my enemies? Ah, Monsieur, reflect upon this! Place me, tomorrow, in

some dark cavern in a mountain's base; yield me the delight of hearing in freedom the sounds of river and

plain, of beholding in freedom the sun of the blue Heavens, or the stormy sky, and it is enough. Promise me

no more than this, for, indeed, more you cannot give; and it would be a crime to deceive me, since you call

Aramis waited in silence. "Monseigneur," he resumed after a moment's reflection, "I admire the firm, sound

sense which dictates your words; I am happy to have discovered my monarch's mind."

"Again, again! oh, for mercy's sake," cried the Prince, pressing his icy hands upon his clammy brow, "do not

"Ah!" said the Prince, with fresh distrust inspired by the word, "ah! with what, then, has humanity to

"I forgot to say, Monseigneur, that if you condescend to allow me to guide you, and if you consent to become

the most powerful monarch on earth, you will have promoted the interests of all the friends whom I devote to

"It is impossible. I will explain, I swear before Heaven, on that day when I see you sitting on the throne of

"He might have himself come to this prison, have taken me by the hand, and have said, 'My brother, Heaven

created us to love, not to contend with each other. I come to you. A barbarous prejudice has condemned you

to pass your days in obscurity, far from all men and deprived of every joy. I will make you sit down beside

me; I will buckle round your waist our father's sword. Will you take advantage of this reconciliation to put

down or to restrain me? Will you employ that sword to spill my blood?' 'Oh never!' I would have replied to

him; 'I look on you as my preserver, and will respect you as my master. You give me far more than Heaven

bestowed; for through you I possess liberty and the privilege of loving and being loved in this world.'"

"I say that there was in that likeness a providential instruction which the King ought to have heeded; I say

that your mother committed a crime in rendering those different in happiness and fortune whom Nature

created so similar in her womb; and I conclude that the object of punishment should be only to restore the

"That if I restore you to your place on your brother's throne, he shall take yours in prison."

"Alas! there is so much suffering in prison, especially to a man who has drunk so deeply of the cup of

"Your royal Highness will always be free to act as you may desire; and if it seems good to you, after

"It is that I will hear nothing further from you till I am clear of the Bastille."

"I was going to say to your Highness that I should only have the pleasure of seeing you once again."

"My Prince, do not leave this chamber save with me; or if in my absence you are compelled to do so,

The Prince offered his hand. "Monsieur," he said, in a tone that issued from his heart, "one word more, my

last. If you have sought me for my destruction; if you are only a tool in the hands of my enemies; if from our

conference, in which you have sounded the depths of my mind, anything worse than captivity result, that is

to say, if death befall me, still receive my blessing, for you will have ended my troubles and given me

"I say that in such a case I should bless and forgive you. If, on the other hand, you are come to restore me to

that position in the sunshine of fortune and glory to which I was destined by Heaven; if by your aid I am

enabled to live in the memory of man, and confer lustre on my race by deeds of valor or by solid benefits

bestowed upon my people; if from my present depths of sorrow, aided by your generous hand, I raise myself

to the very height of honor, then to you, whom I thank with blessings, to you will I offer half my power and

my glory; though you would still be but partly recompensed, and your share must always remain incomplete,

"Monseigneur," replied Aramis, moved by the pallor and excitement of the young man, "the nobleness of

your heart fills me with joy and admiration. It is not you who will have to thank me, but rather the nation

whom you will render happy, the posterity whose name you will make glorious. Yes; I shall have bestowed

The Prince offered his hand to Aramis, who sank upon his knee and kissed it. "Oh!" cried the Prince, with a

"It is the first act of homage paid to our future King," said Aramis. "When I see you again, I shall say,

"Till then," said the young man, pressing his wan and wasted fingers over his heart, "till then, no more

dreams, no more strain upon my life, it would break! Oh, Monsieur, how small is my prison, how low the

window, how narrow are the doors! To think that so much pride, splendor, and happiness should be able to

"Your royal Highness makes me proud," said Aramis, "since you imply it is I who brought all this"; and he

The jailer came to open it with Baisemeaux, who devoured by fear and uneasiness was beginning, in spite of

himself, to listen at the door. Happily, neither of the speakers had forgotten to smother his voice, even in the

"What a confession!" said the governor, forcing a laugh; "who would believe that a mere recluse, a man

almost dead, could have committed crimes so numerous, and taking so long to tell of?"

Aramis made no reply. He was eager to leave the Bastille, where the secret which overwhelmed him seemed

As soon as they reached Baisemeaux's quarters, "Let us proceed to business, my dear governor," said Aramis.

"You have to ask me for my receipt for one hundred and fifty thousand livres," said the bishop.

"And to pay over the first third of the sum," added the poor governor, with a sigh, taking three steps towards

"The order instructed me only to give a receipt; it said nothing about receiving the money," rejoined Aramis.

"Adieu, Monsieur the Governor!" And he departed, leaving Baisemeaux stifled with joy and surprise at this

Chapter XXX: How Mouston Had Become Fatter Without Giving Porthos Notice Thereof, and of the

AFTER the departure of Athos for Blois, Porthos and d'Artagnan were seldom together. One was occupied

with harassing duties for the King; the other had been making many purchases of furniture, which he

intended to forward to his estate, and by aid of which he hoped to establish in his various residences

something of that court luxury which he had witnessed in all its dazzling brightness in his Majesty's society.

D'Artagnan, ever faithful, one morning during an interval of service thought about Porthos, and being uneasy

at not having heard anything of him for a fortnight, directed his steps towards his hotel, and pounced upon

him just as he was getting up. The worthy baron had a pensive, nay, more, a melancholy air. He was sitting

on his bed, only half dressed, and with legs dangling over the edge, contemplating a great number of

garments, which with their fringes, lace, embroidery, and slashes of illassorted hues were strewed all over

Porthos, sad and reflective as La Fontaine's hare, did not observe d'Artagnan's entrance, which was moreover

screened at this moment by M. Mouston, whose personal corpulence, quite enough at any time to hide one

man from another, was for the moment doubled by a scarlet coat which the intendant was holding up by the

sleeves for his master's inspection, that he might the better see it all over. D'Artagnan stopped at the

threshold, and looked at the pensive Porthos; and then, as the sight of the innumerable garments strewing the

floor caused mighty sighs to heave from the bosom of that excellent gentleman, d'Artagnan thought it time to

put an end to these dismal reflections, and coughed by way of announcing himself.

"Ah!" exclaimed Porthos, whose countenance brightened with joy, "ah! ah! Here is d'Artagnan. I shall, then,

At these words Mouston, doubting what was going on behind him, got out of the way, smiling kindly at the

friend of his master, who thus found himself freed from the material obstacle which had prevented his

reaching d'Artagnan. Porthos made his sturdy knees crack again in rising, and crossing the room in two

strides found himself face to face with his friend, whom he folded to his breast with a force of affection that

seemed to increase with every day. "Ah!" he repeated, "you are always welcome, dear friend; but just now

"In the first place," returned Porthos, "you know I have no secrets from you. This, then, is what saddens me."

"Wait a minute, Porthos; let me first get rid of all this litter of satin and velvet."

"Splendid, Porthos, splendid. I'll wager that you alone in France have so many; and suppose you never had

any more made, and were to live a hundred years, which wouldn't astonish me, you could still wear a new

dress the day of your death without being obliged to see the nose of a single tailor from now till then."

"Come, my friend," said d'Artagnan, "this unnatural melancholy in you frightens me. My dear Porthos, pray

"No; they have felled the wood, and it has yielded a third more than the estimate."

"No, my friend; they have been fished, and there is enough left to stock all the pools in the neighborhood."

"No, my friend; on the contrary, the ground was struck by lightning a hundred paces from the chateau, and a

"The fact is, I have received an invitation for the fete at Vaux," said Porthos, with a lugubrious expression.

"Well, do you complain of that? The King has caused a hundred mortal heartburnings among the courtiers

by refusing invitations. And so, my dear friend, you are of the party for Vaux? Bless my soul!"

D'Artagnan stood petrified. "No clothes, Porthos! no clothes," he cried, "when I see more than fifty suits on

"What! not one that fits you? But are you not measured, then, when you give an order?"

"To be sure, he is," answered Mouston; "but unfortunately I have grown stouter."

"So much so that I am now bigger than the baron. Would you believe it, Monsieur?"

"Be still, my dear Porthos!" resumed d'Artagnan, becoming slightly impatient. "I don't understand why your

"I am going to explain it," said Porthos. "You remember having related to me the story of the Roman general

Antony, who had always seven wild boars, kept roasting, cooked to different degrees, so that he might be

able to have his dinner at any time of the day he chose to ask for it? Well, then, I resolved, as at any time I

might be invited to court to spend a week, I resolved to have always seven suits ready for the occasion."

"Capitally reasoned, Porthos! Only a man must have a fortune like yours to gratify such whims. Without

"That is exactly the point," said Porthos, "in regard to which I flattered myself I had hit on a very ingenious

"Oh, you are not in fault, Monsieur!" said Mouston, graciously. "You were in Paris; and as for us, we were in

"Well, well, my dear Porthos; there was a time when Mouston began to grow fat. Is that what you wished to

"No, my dear friend, I do not yet understand; but perhaps with the help of explanation"

"Here it is, my friend. In the first place, as you have said, to be measured is a loss of time, even though it

occur only once a fortnight. And then, one may be travelling, and may wish to have seven suits always ready.

In short, I have a horror of letting any one take my measure. Confound it! either one is a gentleman or he is

not. To be scrutinized and scanned by a fellow who completely analyzes you by inch and line, 'tis

degrading. Here, they find you too hollow; there, too prominent. They recognize your strong and weak points.

See, now, when we leave the measurer's hands, we are like those strongholds whose angles and different

"Well, I had an idea, which would doubtless have proved a good one but for Mouston's carelessness."

D'Artagnan glanced at Mouston, who replied by a slight movement of his body, as if to say, "You will see

"I congratulated myself, then," resumed Porthos, "at seeing Mouston get fat; and I did all I could, by means

of substantial feeding, to make him stout, always in the hope that he would come to equal myself in girth,

"Consider my joy when after a year and a half's judicious feeding, for I used to feed him myself, the

"That's true. Consider my joy when one morning I perceived Mouston was obliged, like myself, to compress

himself to get through the little secret door that those fools of architects had made in the chamber of the late

Madame du Vallon, in the chateau of Pierrefonds. And, by the way, about that door, my friend, I should like

to ask you, who know everything, why these wretches of architects, who ought by rights to have the

compasses in their eye, came to make doorways through which nobody but thin people could pass?"

"Oh! those doors," answered d'Artagnan, "were meant for gallants, and they have generally slight and slender

"Perfectly true, my friend," resumed d'Artagnan; "but the architects were imagining the possibility of your

"Ah, that is possible!" said Porthos. "And now that I have received an explanation why doorways are made

too narrow, let us return to the subject of Mouston's fatness. But see how the two things fit each other! I have

always noticed that ideas run parallel. And so, Observe this phenomenon, d'Artagnan! I was talking to you of

"My dear friend, a savant of my acquaintance, M. Costar, has made the same observation as you have; and he

"What! my remark is not then original?" cried Porthos, astounded. "I thought I was the discoverer."

"My friend, the fact was known before Aristotle's days, that is to say, about two thousand years ago."

"Well, well, 'tis no less true," remarked Porthos, delighted at the idea of having concurred with the sages of

"Wonderfully. But suppose we return to Mouston. It seems to me, we have left him fattening under our very

"Well," said Porthos, "Mouston fattened so well that he gratified all my hopes by reaching my standard; a fact

of which I was well able to convince myself, by seeing the rascal one day in a waistcoat of mine, which he

had turned into a coat, a waistcoat the mere embroidery of which was worth a hundred pistoles."

"From that moment I determined to put Mouston in communication with my tailors, and to have him

"Exactly! They measured him down to the ground, and the end of the skirt came just below my knee."

"Ah, yes, pay your compliments; there is something upon which to base them! It was exactly at that time

that is to say, nearly two years and a half ago that I set out for BelleIsle, instructing Mouston (so as always

to have, in every event, a pattern of every fashion) to have a coat made for himself every month."

"And did Mouston neglect to comply with your instructions? Oh, that would not be right, Mouston!"

"No, he never forgot to have his coats made; but he forgot to inform me that he had grown stouter!"

"And this to such an extent, Monsieur," continued Porthos, "that the fellow in two years has gained eighteen

inches in girth, and so my last dozen coats are all too large in progressive measure from a foot to a foot and a

"They are no longer the fashion, my dear friend. Were I to put them on, I should look like a fresh arrival from

"I understand your difficulty. You have how many new suits? thirtysix, and yet not one to wear. Well, you

"Ah, Monsieur!" said Mouston, with a gratified air. "The truth is, that Monsieur has always been very

"Do you mean to think that I hadn't that idea, or that I was deterred by the expense? But it wants only two

days to the fete. I received the invitation yesterday; made Mouston post hither with my wardrobe, and only

this morning discovered my misfortune; and from now till the day after tomorrow, there isn't a single

"Oh, we shall manage it! You won't leave for three days. The invitations are for Wednesday, and this is only

"'Tis true; but Aramis has strongly advised me to be at Vaux twentyfour hours beforehand."

"By no means, by the King, dear friend. The letter bears the following as large as life:

"'M. le Baron du Vallon is informed that the King has condescended to place him on the invitation list'"

"And when I think," cried Porthos, stamping on the floor, "when I think I shall have no clothes, I am ready

"Neither strangle anybody nor destroy anything, Porthos; I will manage it all. Put on one of your thirtysix

"Oh! ah, yes!" said Porthos, who wished to appear to know the King's tailor, but now heard his name

mentioned for the first time; "to M. Percerin's, by Jove! I thought he would be too much engaged."

"Doubtless he will be; but be at ease, Porthos! He will do for me what he won't do for another. Only, you

"Ah!" said Porthos, with a sigh, "'tis vexatious, but what would you have me do?"

"The King is a beau, my good friend; and so are you, too, whatever you may say about it."

Porthos smiled triumphantly. "Let us go to the King's tailor," he said; "and since he measures the King, I

THE King's tailor, Messire Jean Percerin, occupied a rather large house in the Rue St. Honore, near the Rue

de l'Arbre Sec. He was a man of great taste in elegant stuffs, embroideries, and velvet, being hereditary tailor

to the King. The preferment of his house reached as far back as the time of Charles IX; from whose reign

dated, as we know, fancies in bravery difficult enough to gratify. The Percerin of that period was a Huguenot,

like Ambroise Pare, and had been spared by the Queen of Navarre, the beautiful Margot, as they used to

write and say too in those days, because, in sooth, he was the only one who could make for her those

wonderful ridinghabits which she preferred to wear, seeing that they were marvellously well suited to hide

certain anatomical defects which the Queen of Navarre used very studiously to conceal. Percerin being saved

made, out of gratitude, some beautiful black bodices, very inexpensive indeed, for Queen Catherine, who

ended by being pleased at the preservation of a Huguenot on whom she had long looked with aversion. But

Percerin was a prudent man; and having heard it said that there was no more dangerous sign for a Huguenot

than to be smiled upon by Catherine, and having observed that her smiles were more frequent than usual, he

speedily turned Catholic, with all his family; and having thus become irreproachable, attained the lofty

position of master tailor to the Crown of France. Under Henry III, gay King as he was, this position was as

high as one of the loftiest peaks of the Cordilleras. Now, Percerin had been a clever man all his life, and by

way of keeping up his reputation beyond the grave, took very good care not to make a bad death of it; and so

contrived to die very seasonably, at the very moment he felt his powers of invention declining. He left a son

and daughter, both worthy of the name they were called upon to bear, the son a cutter as unerring and exact

as the square rule, the daughter apt at embroidery and at designing ornaments. The marriage of Henry IV and

Marie de Medicis, and the exquisite court mourning for the aforementioned Queen, together with a few words

let fall by M. de Bassompierre, king of the beaux of that period, made the fortune of the second generation of

Percerins. M. Concino Concini, and his wife Galigai, who subsequently shone at the French Court, sought to

Italianize the fashion, and introduced some Florentine tailors; but Percerin, touched to the quick in his

patriotism and his selfesteem, entirely defeated these foreigners by his designs in brocatelle, so effectually

that Concino was the first to give up his compatriots, and held the French tailor in such esteem that he would

never employ any other; and thus wore a doublet of his on the very day that Vitry blew out his brains with his

It was that doublet, issuing from M. Percerin's workshop, which the Parisians rejoiced in hacking into so

many pieces with the human flesh it covered. Notwithstanding the favor Concino Concini had shown

Percerin, the King Louis XIII had the generosity to bear no malice to his tailor and to retain him in his

service. At the time when Louis the Just afforded this great example of equity, Percerin had brought up two

sons, one of whom made his debut at the marriage of Anne of Austria, invented that admirable Spanish

costume in which Richelieu danced a saraband, made the costumes for the tragedy of "Mirame," and stitched

on to Buckingham's mantle those famous pearls which were destined to be scattered on the floors of the

Louvre. A man becomes easily illustrious who has made the dresses of M. de Buckingham, M. de

CinqMars, Mademoiselle Ninon, M. de Beaufort, and Marion de Lorme. And thus Percerin III had attained

This same Percerin III, old, famous, and wealthy, yet further dressed Louis XIV; and having no son, which

was a great cause of sorrow to him, seeing that with himself his dynasty would end, he had brought up

several hopeful pupils. He possessed a carriage, a countryhouse, lackeys the tallest in Paris; and by special

authority from Louis XIV, a pack of hounds. He worked for Messieurs de Lyonne and Letellier, under a sort

of patronage; but, politic man as he was, and versed in State secrets, he never succeeded in fitting M. Colbert.

This is beyond explanation; it is a matter for intuition. Great geniuses of every kind live upon unseen,

intangible ideas; they act without themselves knowing why. The great Percerin (for, contrary to the rule of

dynasties, it was, above all, the last of the Percerins who deserved the name of Great), the great Percerin

was inspired when he cut a robe for the Queen or a coat for the King; he could invent a mantle for Monsieur,

a clock for Madame's stocking; but in spite of his supreme genius, he could never hit the measure of M.

Colbert. "That man," he used often to say, "is beyond my art; my needle never can hit him off." We need

scarcely say that Percerin was M. Fouquet's tailor, and that the superintendent highly esteemed him.

M. Percerin was nearly eighty years old, nevertheless, still fresh, and at the same time so dry, the courtiers

used to say, that he was positively brittle. His renown and his fortune were great enough for Monsieur the

Prince, that king of fops, to take his arm when talking over the fashions; and for those least eager to pay never

to dare to leave their accounts in arrear with him, for M. Percerin would for the first time make clothes upon

It is easy to see that a tailor of such standing, instead of running after customers, would make difficulties

about receiving new ones. And so Percerin declined to fit bourgeois, or those who had but recently obtained

patents of nobility. It was stated, even, that M. de Mazarin, in return for a full suit of ceremonial vestments as

Percerin was endowed with intelligence and wit. He might be called very lively. At eighty years of age he

It was to the house of this great lord of tailors that d'Artagnan took the despairing Porthos; who, as they were

going along, said to his friend: "Take care, my good d'Artagnan, not to compromise the dignity of a man such

as I am with the arrogance of this Percerin, who will, I expect, be very impertinent; for I give you notice, my

"Presented by me," replied d'Artagnan, "you have nothing to fear, even though you were what you are not."

"Oh, a misunderstanding, no doubt, which 'tis pressing to set right! Mouston must have made a mistake."

"Here! how here? We are at the Halles; and you told me the house was at the corner of the Rue de

"You do not, I suppose, want our horses to clamber up on the top of the carriage in front of us?"

"Nor that the second should be driven over the roofs of the thirty or forty others which have arrived before

"No; you are right, indeed. What a number of people! And what are they all about?"

"Get down, pass through the footmen and lackeys, and enter the tailor's house, which I will answer for our

They both alighted, and made their way on foot towards the establishment. The cause of the confusion was

that M. Percerin's doors were closed, while a servant standing before them was explaining to the illustrious

customers of the illustrious tailor that just then M. Percerin could not receive anybody. It was bruited about

outside still, on the authority of what the great lackey had said confidentially to some great noble whom he

favored, that M. Percerin was engaged upon five dresses for the King, and that, owing to the urgency of the

case, he was meditating in his office on the ornaments, colors, and cut of these five suits. Some, contented

with this reason, went away again, happy to repeat it to others; but others, more tenacious, insisted on having

the doors opened, and among these last, three Blue Ribbons, intended to take part in a ballet which would

inevitably fail unless the said three had their costumes shaped by the very hand of the great Percerin himself.

D'Artagnan, pushing on Porthos, who scattered the groups of people right and left, succeeded in gaining the

counter behind which the journeymen tailors were doing their best to answer questions. We forgot to mention

that at the door they wanted to put off Porthos, like the rest; but d'Artagnan, showing himself, pronounced

merely these words, "The King's order," and was let in with his friend. Those poor devils had enough to do,

and did their best, to reply to the demands of the customers in the absence of their master, leaving off

drawing a stitch to turn a sentence; and when wounded pride or disappointed expectation brought down upon

them too cutting rebukes, he who was attacked made a dive and disappeared under the counter.

The line of discontented lords formed a picture full of curious details. Our captain of Musketeers, a man of

sure and rapid observation, took it all in at a glance; but having run over the groups, his eye rested on a man

in front of him. This man, seated upon a stool, scarcely showed his head above the counter which sheltered

him. He was about forty years of age, with a melancholy aspect, pale face, and soft luminous eyes. He was

looking at d'Artagnan and the rest, with his chin resting upon his hand, like a calm and inquiring spectator.

Only, on perceiving and doubtless recognizing our captain, he pulled his hat down over his eyes. It was this

action, perhaps, that attracted d'Artagnan's attention. If so, the gentleman who had pulled down his hat

produced an effect entirely different from what he had desired. In other respects, his costume was plain, and

his hair evenly cut enough for customers who were not close observers to take him for a mere tailor's

apprentice perched behind the board and carefully stitching cloth or velvet. Nevertheless, this man held up his

head too often to be very productively employed with his fingers. D'Artagnan was not deceived, not he; and

he saw at once that if this man was working on anything, it certainly was not on cloth.

"Eh!" said he, addressing this man, "and so you have become a tailor's boy, M. Moliere?"

"Hush, M. d'Artagnan!" replied the man, softly; "in Heaven's name! you will make them recognize me."

"The fact is, there is no harm; but "You were going to say there is no good in doing it, either, is it not so?"

"Go on, go on, M. Moliere! I quite understand the interest you take in it. I will not disturb your study."

"For everybody. He brought me here, so that I might be at my ease to make my observations, and then he

"I!" exclaimed Moliere, in the tone of a courageous dog from which you snatch the bone it has legitimately

"If you don't go directly and tell M. Percerin that I am here, my dear Moliere," said d'Artagnan, in a low tone,

"I warn you of one thing, that I won't exhibit to you the friend I have brought with me."

Moliere indicated Porthos by an imperceptible gesture. "This gentleman, is it not?"

Moliere fixed upon Porthos one of those looks which penetrate the minds and hearts of men. The subject

doubtless appeared very promising to him, for he immediately rose and led the way into the adjoining

DURING all this time the crowd was slowly rolling on, leaving at every angle of the counter either a murmur

or a menace, as the waves leave foam or scattered seaweed on the sands, when they retire with the ebbing

tide. In about ten minutes Moliere reappeared, making another sign to d'Artagnan from under the hangings.

The latter hurried after him, with Porthos in the rear, and after threading a labyrinth of corridors, introduced

him to M. Percerin's room. The old man, with his sleeves turned up, was gathering up in folds a piece of

goldflowered brocade, so as the better to exhibit its lustre. Perceiving d'Artagnan, he put the silk aside, and

came to meet him, by no means radiant and by no means courteous, but on the whole in a tolerably civil

"Eh! yes, on the King's costumes; I know that, my dear M. Percerin. You are making three, they tell me."

"Three or five, 'tis all the same to me, my dear Monsieur; and I know that you will make them most

"Yes, I know. Once made, they will be the most beautiful in the world, I do not deny it; but that they may be

the most beautiful in the world, they must first be made; and to do this, Captain, I am pressed for time."

"Oh, bah! there are two days yet; 'tis much more than you require, M. Percerin," said d'Artagnan, in the

Percerin raised his head with the air of a man little accustomed to be contradicted, even in his whims; but

d'Artagnan did not pay the least attention to the airs which the illustrious tailor began to assume.

Percerin attempted a bow, which found no favor in the eyes of the terrible Porthos, who from his first entry

"My friend," returned Porthos, sententiously, "there is always time when one chooses to find it."

Percerin turned crimson, a very ominous sign indeed in old men blanched by age. "Monsieur," said he, "is

"Come, come, Percerin," interposed d'Artagnan, "you are not in a good temper today. Well, I will say one

more word to you, which will bring you on your knees: Monsieur is not only a good friend of mine, but

"Ah! ah!" exclaimed the tailor, "that is another thing." Then turning to Porthos, "Monsieur the Baron is

"I am attached to myself," shouted Porthos, at the very moment when the tapestry was raised to introduce a

new speaker in the dialogue. Moliere was all observation; d'Artagnan laughed; Porthos swore.

"My dear Percerin," said d'Artagnan, "you will make a dress for the baron? 'Tis I who ask you."

"That, then, is as much as to refuse, because the dress is wanted for the fete at Vaux."

"By no means, dear M. Percerin, above all if I ask you," said a mild voice at the door, a silvery voice which

"Goodmorning, d'Artagnan; goodmorning, Porthos; goodmorning, my dear friends'" said Aramis. "Come,

come, M. Percerin, make the baron's dress, and I will answer for it you will gratify M. Fouquet"; and he

accompanied the words with a sign which seemed to say, "Agree, and dismiss them."

It appeared that Aramis had over M. Percerin an influence superior even to d'Artagnan's; for the tailor bowed

in assent, and turning round upon Porthos, "Go and get measured on the other side," said he, rudely.

Porthos colored in a formidable manner. D'Artagnan saw the storm coming, and addressing Moliere said to

him in an undertone, "You see before you, my dear Monsieur, a man who considers himself disgraced if you

measure the flesh and bones that Heaven has given him; study this type for me, Aristophanes, and profit by

Moliere had no need of encouragement, and his gaze dwelt upon the baron Porthos. "Monsieur," he said, "if

you will come with me, I will make them take your measure without the measurer touching you."

"I say that they shall apply neither line nor rule to the seams of your dress. It is a new method we have

invented for measuring people of quality, who are too sensitive to allow lowborn fellows to touch them. We

know some susceptible persons who will not put up with being measured, a process which, as I think,

wounds the natural dignity of man; and if perchance Monsieur should be one of these"

"Well, that is a capital coincidence, and you will have the benefit of our invention."

"Monsieur," said Moliere, bowing, "if you will deign to follow me, you will see."

Aramis observed this scene with all his eyes. Perhaps he fancied from d'Artagnan's liveliness that he would

leave with Porthos, so as not to lose the conclusion of a scene so well begun. But clearsighted as he was,

Aramis deceived himself. Porthos and Moliere left together. D'Artagnan remained with Percerin. Why? From

curiosity, doubtless; probably to enjoy a little longer the society of his good friend Aramis. As Moliere and

Porthos disappeared, d'Artagnan drew near the Bishop of Vannes, a proceeding which appeared particularly

"I shall go, but without a new dress. You forget, dear d'Artagnan, that a poor Bishop of Vannes is not rich

"Bah!" said the musketeer, laughing; "and do we write no more poems now, either?"

"Don't you perceive," said Aramis, smiling, "that we are greatly boring this good gentleman, my dear

"Ah! ah!" murmured the musketeer, aside; "that is, I am boring you, my friend." Then aloud, "Well, then, let

us leave. I have no further business here; and if you are as disengaged as I, Aramis"

"Ah! you had something private to say to M. Percerin? Why did you not tell me so at once?"

"Something private, certainly," repeated Aramis, "but not from you, d'Artagnan. I hope you will believe that I

can never have anything so private to say that a friend like you may not hear it."

"Oh, no, no! I am going," said d'Artagnan, but imparting to his voice an evident tone of curiosity; for

Aramis's annoyance, well dissembled as it was, had not escaped him, and he knew that in that impenetrable

mind even the most apparently trivial thing was designed to some end, an unknown one, but one which from

the knowledge he had of his friend's character the musketeer felt must be important.

On his part, Aramis saw that d'Artagnan was not without suspicion, and pressed him. "Stay, by all means!" he

said; "this is what it is." Then turning towards the tailor, "My dear Percerin," said he. "I am even very happy

"Oh, indeed!" exclaimed the Gascon, for the third time, even less deceived this time than before.

Percerin never moved. Aramis roused him violently, by snatching from his hands the stuff upon which he was

engaged. "My dear Percerin," said he, "I have near at hand M. Lebrun, one of M. Fouquet's painters."

Aramis looked at d'Artagnan, who seemed to be occupied with an engraving of Mark Antony. "And you wish

to have made for him a dress similar to those of the Epicureans?" answered Percerin; and while saying this in

an absent manner, the worthy tailor endeavored to recapture his piece of brocade.

"I see," said Aramis, with a most engaging smile; "it is written that our dear d'Artagnan shall know all our

secrets this evening. Yes, my friend, you have surely heard speak of M. Fouquet's Epicureans, have you not?"

"Undoubtedly. Is it not a kind of poetical society, of which La Fontaine, Loret, Pellisson, and Moliere are

"Exactly so. Well, we are going to put our poets in uniform, and enroll them in the service of the King."

"Oh, very well! I understand, a surprise M. Fouquet is getting up for the King. Be at ease; if that is the secret

"Always agreeable, my friend! No, M. Lebrun has nothing to do with this part of it; the secret which concerns

"Then, if it is so important as all that, I prefer not to know it," said d'Artagnan, making a show of departure.

"Come in, M. Lebrun, come in!" said Aramis, opening a sidedoor with his right hand and holding back

Aramis took an "opportunity," as is said in theatrical matters. "My dear M. Percerin," he continued, "you are

making five dresses for the King, are you not? one in brocade, one in huntingcloth, one in velvet, one in

"It is all very simple, my dear Monsieur. There will be a hunt, a banquet, a concert, a promenade, and a

"But," cried the tailor, in triumph, "what you do not know, Monseigneur, prince of the church though you are;

what nobody will know; what only the King, Mademoiselle de la Valliere, and myself do know, is the color

of the materials, the nature of the ornaments, and the cut, the ensemble, the finish of it all!"

"Well," said Aramis, "that is precisely what I have come to ask you, dear Percerin."

"Ah, bah!" exclaimed the tailor, terrified, though Aramis had pronounced these words in his sweetest and

most honeyed voice. The request appeared, on reflection, so exaggerated, so ridiculous, so monstrous to M.

Percerin that first he laughed to himself, then aloud, and finished with a shout. D'Artagnan followed his

example, not because he found the matter so "very funny," but in order not to allow Aramis to cool.

Aramis suffered them to laugh, and then, when they had become quiet, "At first view," said he, "I appear to

be hazarding an absurd question, do I not? But d'Artagnan, who is incarnate wisdom itself, will tell you that I

"Let us see," said the attentive musketeer, perceiving with his wonderful instinct that they had only been

"Why, now," continued Aramis, "does M. Fouquet give the King a fete? Is it not to please him?"

"By delicate attentions, by some happy device, by a succession of surprises, like that of which we were

"Well, then, this is the surprise we intend, my good friend. M. Lebrun, here, is a man who draws most

"Yes," said Percerin; "I have seen his pictures, and observed that the dresses were highly elaborated. That is

why I at once agreed to make him a costume, whether one to agree with those of the Epicureans, or an

"My dear Monsieur, we accept your offer, and shall presently avail ourselves of it; but just now M. Lebrun is

not in want of the dresses you will make for himself, but of those you are making for the King."

Percerin made a bound backwards, which d'Artagnan, calmest and most appreciative of men, did not consider

overdone, so many strange and startling aspects wore the proposal which Aramis had just hazarded. "The

King's dresses! Give the King's dresses to any mortal whatever! Oh, for once, Monseigneur, your Grace is

"Help me now, d'Artagnan," said Aramis, more and more calm and smiling. "Help me now to persuade

"What! you do not understand that M. Fouquet wishes to afford the King the surprise of finding his portrait

on his arrival at Vaux; and that the portrait, which will be a striking resemblance, ought to be dressed exactly

"Oh, yes, yes!" said the musketeer, nearly convinced, so plausible was this reasoning. "Yes, my dear Aramis,

"Well, I don't know," replied the bishop; "either mine or M. Fouquet's." Then scanning Percerin, after

noticing d'Artagnan's hesitation, "Well, M. Percerin," he asked, "what do you say to this?"

"That you are, doubtless, free to refuse. I know well, and I by no means count upon compelling you, my

dear Monsieur. I will say more; I even understand all the delicacy you feel in taking up with M. Fouquet's

idea, you dread appearing to flatter the King. A noble spirit, M. Percerin, a noble spirit!" The tailor

stammered. "It would indeed be a very pretty compliment to pay the young Prince," continued Aramis; "but

as the superintendent told me, 'If Percerin refuse, tell him that it will not at all lower him in my opinion, and I

"Only?" continued Aramis, "'I shall be compelled to say to the King,' you understand, my dear M. Percerin,

that these are M. Fouquet's words, 'I shall be constrained to say to the King, "Sire, I had intended to present

your Majesty with your portrait; but owing to a feeling of delicacy, exaggerated perhaps, but creditable, M.

"Opposed!" cried the tailor, terrified at the responsibility which would weigh upon him; "I to oppose the

desire, the will of M. Fouquet when he is seeking to please the King! Oh, what a hateful word you have

uttered, Monseigneur! Oppose! Oh, 'tis not I who said it, thank God! I call the captain of the Musketeers to

D'Artagnan made a sign indicating that he wished to remain neutral. He felt that there was an intrigue at the

bottom of it, whether comedy or tragedy; he was disgusted at not being able to fathom it, but in the mean

But already Percerin, goaded by the idea that the King should be told he had stood in the way of a pleasant

surprise, had offered Lebrun a chair, and proceeded to bring from a wardrobe four magnificent dresses, the

fifth being still in the workmen's hands; and these masterpieces he successively fitted upon four lay figures,

which imported into France in the time of Concini had been given to Percerin II by Marechal d'Ancre after

the discomfiture of the Italian tailors ruined in their competition. The painter set to work to draw and then to

paint the dresses. But Aramis, who was closely watching all the phases of his toil, suddenly stopped him.

"I think you have not quite got it, my dear Lebrun," he said; "your colors will deceive you, and on canvas we

shall lack that exact resemblance which is absolutely requisite. Time is necessary for observing the finer

"Quite true," said Percerin; "but time is wanting, and on that head you will agree with me, Monseigneur, I can

"Then the affair will fail," said Aramis, quietly, "and that because of a want of precision in the colors."

Nevertheless, Lebrun went on copying the materials and ornaments with the closest fidelity, a process

"What in the devil, now, is the meaning of this imbroglio?" the musketeer kept saying to himself.

"That will certainly never do," said Aramis. "M. Lebrun, close your box, and roll up your canvas."

"An idea, M. Lebrun, an idea! If we had a sample of the materials, for example, and with time and a better

"Good!" said d'Artagnan, "this ought to be the knot of the whole thing; they want a sample of each of the

Percerin, beaten in his last retreat, and duped moreover by the feigned goodnature of Aramis, cut out five

"I like this better. That is your opinion, is it not?" said Aramis to d'Artagnan.

"My dear Aramis," said d'Artagnan, "my opinion is that you are always the same."

"Yes, yes," said d'Artagnan, aloud; then, in a low voice, "If I am your dupe, double Jesuit that you are, I will

not be your accomplice; and to prevent it, 'tis time I left this place. Adieu, Aramis," he added, aloud, "adieu; I

"Then wait for me," said Aramis, pocketing the samples; "for I have done, and shall not be sorry to say a

Lebrun packed up, Percerin put back the dresses into the closet, Aramis put his hand on his pocket to assure

Chapter XXXIII: Where, Probably, Moliere Formed His First Idea of the "Bourgeois Gentilhomme"

D'ARTAGNAN found Porthos in the adjoining chamber; but no longer an irritated Porthos, or a disappointed

Porthos, but Porthos radiant, blooming, fascinating, and chatting with Moliere, who was looking upon him

with a species of idolatry, and as a man would who had not only never seen anything better, but not even ever

anything so good. Aramis went straight up to Porthos and offered him his delicate hand, which lost itself in

the gigantic hand of his old friend, an operation which Aramis never hazarded without a certain uneasiness.

But the friendly pressure having been performed not too painfully for him, the Bishop of Vannes passed over

"To St. Mande!" cried Porthos, surprised at seeing the proud Bishop of Vannes fraternizing with a

journeyman tailor. "What! Aramis, are you going to take this gentleman to St. Mande?"

"Besides, my dear Porthos," continued d'Artagnan, "M. Moliere is not altogether what he seems."

"Why, this gentleman is one of M. Percerin's chief clerks, and he is expected at St. Mande to try on the

"Come, then, my dear M. Moliere," said Aramis; "that is, if you have done with M. du Vallon?"

Moliere took his leave of Porthos with much ceremony, and grasped the hand which the captain of the

"You will have your dress after tomorrow, Monsieur the Baron," answered Moliere; and he left with Aramis.

D'Artagnan, taking Porthos's arm, inquired, "What has this tailor done for you, my dear Porthos, that you are

"What has he done for me, my friend, done for me!" cried Porthos, enthusiastically.

"My friend, he has done that which no tailor ever yet accomplished, he has taken my measure without

"First, then, they went, I don't know where, for a number of lay figures, of all heights and sizes, hoping there

would be one to suit mine; but the largest that of the drummajor of the Swiss Guard was two inches too

"It is exactly as I tell you, d'Artagnan; but he is a great man, or at the very least a great tailor, is this M.

"Oh, it is a very simple matter! I' faith, 'tis an unheard of thing that people should have been so stupid as not

to have discovered this method from the first. What annoyance and humiliation they would have spared me!"

"Moliere? You call him so, do you? I shall make a point of recollecting his name."

"No; I like Moliere best. When I wish to recollect his name, I shall think of voliere [an aviary]; and as I have

"'Tis this: instead of pulling me to pieces, as all these rascals do, making me bend in my back, and double my

joints, all of them low and dishonorable practices" D'Artagnan made a sign of approbation with his head.

"'Monsieur,' he said to me," continued Porthos, "'a gentleman ought to measure himself. Do me the pleasure

to draw near this glass'; and I drew near the glass. I must own I did not exactly understand what this good M.

"Ah, yes, Moliere, Moliere. And as the fear of being measured still possessed me, 'Take care,' said I to him,

'what you are going to do with me; I am very ticklish, I warn you!' But he, with his soft voice (for he is a

courteous fellow, we must admit, my friend), he, with his soft voice, said: 'Monsieur, that your dress may fit

you well, it must be made according to your figure. Your figure is exactly reflected in this mirror. We shall

"In fact," said d'Artagnan, "you saw yourself in the glass; but where did they find one in which you could see

"Ah! well, I know not how that may be, it would no doubt be a way of flattering the King, but the

lookingglass was too large for me. 'Tis true that its height was made up of three Venetian plates of glass,

placed one above another, and its breadth of the three similar pieces in juxtaposition."

"Oh, Porthos, what excellent words you have at your command! Where in the world did you make the

"Yes: Moliere, you are right. You will see now, my dear friend, that I shall recollect his name too well. This

excellent M. Moliere set to work tracing out lines on the mirror with a piece of Spanish chalk, following

throughout the shape of my arms and my shoulders, all the while expounding this maxim, which I thought

"In reality," said d'Artagnan, "that is an excellent maxim, which is, unfortunately, seldom carried out in

"'Seeing that,' he continued, 'one may in awkward circumstances or in a troublesome position have one's

"Moliere; yes. 'And so,' went on M. Moliere, 'you want to draw your sword, Monsieur, and you have your

doublet on your back. What do you do?' 'I take it off,' I answered. 'Well, no,' he replied. 'How "no"?' 'I say

that the dress should be so well made that it can in no way encumber you, even in drawing your sword.' 'Ah,

ah!' 'Put yourself on guard!' pursued he. I did it with such wondrous firmness that two panes of glass burst out

of the window. ''Tis nothing, nothing,' said he; 'keep your position.' I raised my left arm in the air, the forearm

gracefully bent, the ruffle drooping, and my wrist curved, while my right arm, half extended, securely

"Hold! I should certainly, after all, prefer to call him What did you say his other name was?"

"I shall change Coq into Poq, nard into lin, and instead of Coquenard I shall have Poquelin."

"'Tis wonderful!" cried d'Artagnan, astounded. "Go on, my friend! I am listening to you with admiration."

"Ah, true! This Poquelin, then, sketched my arm on the glass; but he took his time over it, he kept looking at

me a good deal. The fact is, that I was very handsome. 'Does it weary you?' he asked. 'A little,' I replied,

bending a little in my hands; 'but I could yet hold out an hour.' 'No, no; I will not allow it. We have here some

willing fellows who will make it a duty to support your arms, as, of old, men supported those of the prophet.

'Very good,' I answered. 'That will not be humiliating to you?' 'My friend,' said I, 'there is, I think, a great

"Then," continued Porthos, "he made a sign. Two lads approached: one supported my left arm; while the

other, with infinite address, supported my right arm. 'Another man!' cried he. A third approached. 'Support

"Doubtless; but I have, I think, already explained to you the difference there is between supporting and

"'Tis true," answered d'Artagnan, who said afterwards to himself, "I' faith, I greatly deceive myself, or I have

been the means of a good windfall to that rascal Moliere, and we shall assuredly see the scene hit off to the

"Oh, that is true; I don't know a happier man than you. But what is this last piece of luck that has befallen

"Nearly so. Certain signs of intelligence that passed between Voliere and the other garcons showed me the

"Oh, no, no, indeed! I am very willing to leave you to say Voliere; but I myself shall continue to say Moliere.

Well, this, I was saying, does not surprise me, coming from Moliere, who is a very ingenious fellow, and

"Won't it be of use to him, indeed! I believe you, it will, and not a little so; for you see my friend Moliere is

of all known tailors the man who best clothes our barons, counts, and marquises according to their

On this observation, neither the application nor the depth of which shall we discuss, d'Artagnan and Porthos

quitted M. Percerin's house and rejoined their carriage, wherein we will leave them in order to look after

THE Bishop of Vannes, much annoyed at having met d'Artagnan at M. Percerin's, returned to St. Mande in

no very good humor. Moliere, on the other hand, quite delighted at having made such a capital rough sketch,

and at knowing where to find its original again whenever he should desire to convert his sketch into a picture,

arrived in the merriest of moods. All the first story of the left wing was occupied by the most celebrated

Epicureans in Paris, and those on the freest footing in the house, every one in his compartment, like the bees

in their cells, employed in producing the honey intended for that royal cake which M. Fouquet proposed to

offer his Majesty Louis XIV during the fete at Vaux. Pellisson, his head leaning on his hand, was engaged in

drawing out the plan of the prologue to "Les Facheux," a comedy in three acts, which was to be put on the

stage by Poquelin de Moliere, as d'Artagnan called him, or Coquelin de Voliere, as Porthos styled him. Loret,

with all the charming innocence of a journalist, the journalists of all ages have always been so artless!

Loret was composing an account of the fetes of Vaux, before those fetes had taken place. La Fontaine

sauntered about among them, a wandering, absentminded, boring, unbearable shade, buzzing and

humming at everybody's shoulder a thousand poetic inanities. He so often disturbed Pellisson, that the latter,

raising his head, crossly said, "At least, La Fontaine, supply me with a rhyme, since you say you have the run

"What rhyme do you want?" asked the Fabler, as Madame de Sevigne used to call him.

"Ah, but my good friend, one cannot talk of wheelruts when celebrating the delights of Vaux," said Loret.

"Yes; you have an abominable habit, my friend, a habit which will ever prevent your becoming a poet of the

"Yes, I do, indeed. Remember that a rhyme is never good so long as one can find a better."

"Then I will never write anything again but in prose," said La Fontaine, who had taken up Pellisson's

reproach in earnest. "Ah, I often suspected I was nothing but a rascally poet! Yes, 'tis the very truth."

"Do not say so; your remark is too sweeping, and there is much that is good in your 'Fables.'"

"And to begin," continued La Fontaine, following up his idea, "I will go and burn a hundred verses I have just

"I have discovered the way," said Moliere, who had entered during the last words of the conversation.

"How simple it is! Well, I should never have discovered that. What a mind that devil Moliere has!" said La

Fontaine. Then, striking his forehead, "Oh, thou wilt never be aught but an ass, Jean de la Fontaine!" he

"What are you saying there, my friend?" broke in Moliere, approaching the poet, whose aside he had heard.

"I say I shall never be aught but an ass," answered La Fontaine, with a heavy sigh and swimming eyes. "Yes,

my friend," he added, with increasing grief, "it seems that I rhyme in a slovenly manner."

"But if Pellisson said you were a puppy," cried Moliere, "Pellisson has gravely insulted you."

"Ah! I advise you, as you are a gentleman, not to leave an insult like that unpunished."

"Ah! ah!" said Moliere, becoming slightly pale; but as at La Fontaine's declaration the others had turned

round, Moliere kept upon his lips the rallying smile which had so nearly died away, and continued to make

"The result was, that on the ground my opponent disarmed me, and then made an apology, promising never

"Not at all! on the contrary, I picked up my sword. 'I beg your pardon, Monsieur,' I said; 'I have not fought

you because you were my wife's lover, but because I was told I ought to fight. Now, since I have never

known any peace save since you made her acquaintance, do me the pleasure to continue your visits as

heretofore, or, morbleu! let us set to again.' And so," continued La Fontaine, "he was compelled to resume his

All burst out laughing. Moliere alone passed his hand across his eyes. Why? Perhaps to wipe away a tear,

perhaps to smother a sigh. Alas! we know that Moliere was a moralist, but he was not a philosopher. "It is all

the same," he said, returning to the topic of the conversation, "Pellisson has insulted you."

"A hundred thousand!" cried La Fontaine; "four times as many as in 'La Pucelle,' which M. Chapelain is

meditating. Is it also on this subject that you have composed a hundred thousand verses?"

"It is certain," continued La Fontaine, "that legume, for instance, rhymes with posthume."

"Yes, especially in the plural, seeing that then it rhymes not with three letters, but with four; as orniere does

with lumiere. Put ornieres and lumieres in the plural, my dear Pellisson," said La Fontaine, clapping his hand

on the shoulder of his friend, whose insult he had quite forgotten, "and they will rhyme."

"Moliere says so, and Moliere is a judge of it; he declares he has himself made a hundred thousand verses."

"It is like rivage, which rhymes admirably with herbage; I would take my oath of it."

"I tell you all this," continued La Fontaine, "because you are preparing an entertainment for Vaux, are you

"Ah, yes, 'Les Facheux'; yes, I recollect. Well, I was thinking a prologue would admirably suit your

"Yes, you; and on your refusal begged you to ask Pellisson, who is engaged upon it at this moment."

"Ah! that is what Pellisson is doing, then? I' faith, my dear Moliere, you speak with very good sense

"When you call me absentminded. It is a wretched defect. I will cure myself of it, and I am going to write

"Ah, true! Double rascal that I am! Loret was indeed right in saying I was a puppy."

"Well, then, whoever said so, 'tis the same to me! And so your entertainment is called 'Les Facheux'? Well,

"What were you fancying?" said Loret, in the middle of a sentence. "Make haste!"

"Ah, Pellisson!" cried La Fontaine, going over to him. "I was fancying," he continued, "that the nymph of

"Ah, beautiful!" cried Loret. "The nymph of Vaux! Thank you, La Fontaine; you have just given me the two

"Good! That is something like a rhyme," said Pellisson. "If you could rhyme like that, La Fontaine"

"But it seems I do rhyme like that, since Loret says it is I who gave him the two lines he has just read."

"Well, if you can rhyme so well, La Fontaine," said Pellisson, "tell me now in what way you would begin my

"I should say for instance, O nymphe qui After qui I should place a verb in the second person plural of the

"But the verb, the verb?" obstinately insisted Pellisson. "This second person plural of the present indicative?"

"Without counting," said Moliere, "that in the second verse venir admirer is very weak, my dear La

"Then you see clearly that I am nothing but a poor creature, a puppy, as you said."

"Well, Pellisson was right a hundred times over. But what annoys me more than anything, my dear Moliere,

"Yes, for the fete, and then for after the fete. My housekeeper told me that my own is rather faded."

"Ah, you see," resumed La Fontaine; "the fact is, I left it on the floor in my room, and my cat"

At this juncture the Bishop of Vannes appeared, with a roll of plans and parchments under his arm. As if the

angel of death had chilled all gay and sprightly fancies, as if that wail form had scared away the Graces to

whom Xenocrates sacrificed, silence immediately reigned through the study, and every one resumed his

Aramis distributed the notes of invitation, and thanked them in the name of M. Fouquet. "The

superintendent," he said, "being kept to his room by business, could not come to see them, but begged them

to send him some of the fruits of their day's work, to enable him to forget the fatigue of his labor in the

At these words, all settled to work. La Fontaine placed himself at a table, and set his rapid pen running over

the vellum; Pellisson made a fair copy of his prologue; Moliere gave fifty fresh verses, with which his visit to

Percerin had inspired him; Loret, his article on the marvellous fetes he predicted; and Aramis, laden with

booty like the king of the bees, that great black drone, decked with purple and gold, reentered his

apartment, silent and busy. But before departing, "Remember, gentlemen," said he, "we all leave tomorrow

"'He loves,' yes," replied Moliere, with his sad, sweet smile. "'He loves,' that does not mean, they love him."

"As for me," said La Fontaine, "they love me at Chateau Thierry, I am very sure."

Aramis here reentered, after a brief disappearance. "Will any one go with me?" he asked. "I am going by

way of Paris, after having passed a quarter of an hour with M. Fouquet. I offer my carriage."

"I shall dine here," said Loret. "M. de Gourville has promised me some crawfish,

Aramis went out laughing, as only he could laugh, and Moliere followed him. They were at the bottom of the

The shouts of laughter reached the ears of Fouquet at the moment Aramis opened the door of the study. As to

Moliere, he had undertaken to order the horses, while Aramis went to exchange a parting word with the

"I laugh no longer now, M. d'Herblay. The fete is approaching; money is departing."

Fouquet looked closely at Aramis, and passed his icy hand across his moistened brow. Aramis perceived that

the superintendent either doubted him, or felt that he was powerless to obtain the money. How could Fouquet

"I shall at least fall from such a height that I shall shatter myself in falling." Then giving himself a shake, as

"And what have you been doing at Percerin's, for I suppose you attach no great importance to our poets'

"I will tell you. Then at the same time, whatever you may say of it, I went to see the dresses for our poets."

"Splendid! There will be few great monseigneurs with dresses so good. People will see the difference

"A poor devil, a youth, a lad who has been imprisoned these ten years, for two Latin verses he made against

"'Two Latin verses!' and for 'two Latin verses' the miserable being has been in prison for ten years?"

"Oh, God!" said Fouquet, "thou dost sometimes bear with such injustice on earth that I understand why there

are wretches who doubt thy existence! Stay, M. d'Herblay!" and Fouquet, taking his pen, wrote a few rapid

"Wait!" said Fouquet. He opened his drawer, and took out ten government notes which were there, each for a

thousand livres. "Stay!" he said. "Set the son at liberty, and give this to the mother; but, above all, tell her

"That she is ten thousand livres richer than I. She would say I am but a poor superintendent! Go; and I hope

"So also do I hope," replied Aramis, kissing Fouquet's hand. And he went out quickly, carrying off the letter

for Lyonne and the notes for Seldon's mother, and taking up Moliere, who was beginning to lose patience.

SEVEN o'clock sounded from the great clock of the Bastille, that famous clock which, like all the

accessories of the State prison, the very use of which is a torture, brought to the prisoners' notice the lapse of

every hour of their suffering. The timepiece of the Bastille, adorned with figures, like most of the clocks of

It was the supper hour of the unfortunate captives. The doors, grating on their enormous hinges, opened for

the passage of the baskets and trays of provisions, the delicacy of which, as M. de Baisemeaux has himself

taught us, was regulated by the condition in life of the prisoner. We understand on this head the theories of

M. de Baisemeaux, sovereign dispenser of gastronomic delicacies, head cook of the royal fortress, whose

trays, full laden, were ascending the steep staircases, carrying some consolation to the prisoners in the bottom

of honestly filled bottles. This same hour was that of the governor's supper also. He had a guest today, and

the spit turned more heavily than usual. Roast partridges flanked with quails, and flanking a larded leveret;

boiled fowls; ham, fried and sprinkled with white wine; cardons of Guipuzcoa and la bisque d'ecrevisses,

these, together with the soups and hors d'oeuvres, constituted the governor's bill of fare.

Baisemeaux, seated at table, was rubbing his hands and looking at the Bishop of Vannes, who, booted like a

cavalier, dressed in gray, with a sword at his side' kept talking of his hunger and testifying the liveliest

impatience. M. de Baisemeaux de Montlezun was not accustomed to the unbending movements of his

Greatness my Lord of Vannes; and this evening Aramis, becoming quite sprightly, volunteered confidence on

confidence. The prelate had again a little touch of the musketeer about him. The bishop just trenched on the

borders only of license in his style of conversation. As for M. de Baisemeaux, with the facility of vulgar

people, he gave himself loose rein, on this touch of abandon on the part of his guest. "Monsieur," said he,

"No! faith," said Aramis, taking up his glass; "but I hope I remind you of a good companion."

"You remind me of two, Monsieur. Francois, shut the window; the wind may annoy his Greatness."

"And let him go," added Aramis. "The supper is completely served, and we shall eat it very well without

waiters. I like extremely to be teteatete when I am with a friend." Baisemeaux bowed respectfully. "I like

"Retire, Francois!" cried Baisemeaux. "I was saying that your Greatness puts me in mind of two persons,

one very illustrious, the late cardinal, the great cardinal of La Rochelle, who wore boots like you."

"The other was a certain musketeer, very handsome, very brave, very adventurous, very fortunate, who from

being abbe turned musketeer, and from musketeer turned abbe." Aramis condescended to smile. "From abbe,"

continued Baisemeaux, encouraged by Aramis's smile, "from abbe, bishop, and from bishop"

"Enough, dear M. Baisemeaux! As you said, I have on the boots of a cavalier; but I do not intend, for all that,

"Yes, I should think so; but only when I am compelled. Do me the pleasure to summon Francois."

"I shut the windows at suppertime so as not to hear the sounds or the arrival of couriers."

"Nevertheless, I am suffocated. Francois!" Francois entered. "Open the windows, I pray you, Francois! You

"Do you not think," said M. de Baisemeaux, "that you will find yourself very lonely, now that M. de la Fere

has returned to his household gods at Blois? He is a very old friend, is he not?"

"You know it as I do, Baisemeaux, seeing that you were in the musketeers with us."

"And you are right. But I do more than love M. de la Fere, dear Baisemeaux; I venerate him."

"Well, for my part, though 'tis singular," said the governor, "I prefer M. d'Artagnan to the count. There is a

man for you, who drinks long and well! That kind of people allow you at least to penetrate their thoughts."

"Baisemeaux, make me tipsy tonight! Let us have a debauch as of old; and if I have a trouble at the bottom of

my heart, I promise you, you shall see it as you would a diamond at the bottom of your glass."

"Bravo!" said Baisemeaux; and he poured out a great glass of wine and drank it off at a draught, trembling

with joy at the idea of being, by hook or by crook, in the secret of some high archiepiscopal misdemeanor.

While he was drinking he did not see with what attention Aramis was noting the sounds in the great court. A

courier arrived about eight o'clock, as Francois brought in the fifth bottle; and although the courier made a

"What? who?" asked Baisemeaux. "I hope 'tis neither the wine you drink nor he who causes you to drink it."

"No; it is a horse, who is making noise enough in the court for a whole squadron."

"Pooh! some courier or other," replied the governor, redoubling his numerous bumpers. "Yes, the devil take

"You forget me, Baisemeaux! my glass is empty," said Aramis, showing his dazzling goblet.

"Upon honor, you delight me. Francois, wine!" Francois entered. "Wine, fellow! and better."

"Let him leave his news at the office; we will see to it tomorrow. Tomorrow, there will be time

"The letter which the courier brings to the governor of a fortress is sometimes an order."

"Perhaps you are right. Nevertheless, 'tis very tiresome when you are sitting before a good table, teteatete

with a friend Ah! I beg your pardon, Monsieur; I forgot that it is I who invite you to supper, and that I speak

"Let us pass over that, dear Baisemeaux, and return to our soldier, to Francois."

"However, he has demurred, you see; 'tis because there is something extraordinary in this matter. It is very

possible that it was not Francois who was wrong in demurring, but you, who will be wrong in not listening to

"Pardon me, merely an irregularity. But I thought it my duty to make an observation which I deem

"Oh, perhaps you are right!" stammered Baisemeaux. "The King's order is sacred; but as to orders that arrive

"If you had said as much to the great cardinal, eh! my dear Baisemeaux, and if his order had been

"Do not forget, Baisemeaux, that I have worn the uniform, and am accustomed to see everywhere obedience."

"I wish that you should do your duty, my friend; yes, at least before this soldier."

"'Tis mathematically true," exclaimed Baisemeaux. Francois still waited. "Let them send this order of the

King up to me," he said, recovering himself. And he added in a low tone: "Do you know what it is? I will tell

you; it is something about as interesting as this: 'Beware of fire near the powdermagazine,' or 'Look close

after such a one, who is clever at escaping.' Ah! if you only knew, Monseigneur, how many times I have been

suddenly awakened from the very sweetest and deepest slumber by messengers arriving at full gallop to tell

me, or rather bring me a slip of paper containing these words: 'M. de Baisemeaux, what news?' 'Tis clear

enough that those who waste their time writing such orders have never slept in the Bastille. They would know

better the thickness of my walls, the vigilance of my officers, the number of my rounds. But, indeed, what

can you expect, Monseigneur? It is their business to write and torment me when I am at rest, and to trouble

me when I am happy," added Baisemeaux, bowing to Aramis. "Then let us leave them to their business."

"And do you do yours," added the bishop, smiling, but with command in his expression notwithstanding.

Francois reentered. Baisemeaux took from his hands the minister's order. He slowly undid it, and as slowly

read it. Aramis pretended to be drinking, so as to be able to watch his host through the glass. Then, having

"Excellent news for him whom it concerns, you will at least agree, my dear governor!"

"Oh! charity is all very well; but it is for that fellow who is lowspirited, and not for me who am amusing

"Will you lose by him, then? And is the prisoner who is to be set at liberty a high payer?"

"Oh, admirable! 'Urgent!' a man who has been there ten years! It is urgent to set him free today, this very

evening, at eight o'clock! urgent!" and Baisemeaux, shrugging his shoulders with an air of supreme disdain,

flung the order on the table and began eating again. "They are fond of these dodges," he said, with his mouth

full; "they seize a man, some fine day, maintain him for ten years, and write to you, 'Watch this fellow well,'

or 'Keep him very strictly.' And then, as soon as you are accustomed to look upon the prisoner as a dangerous

man, all of a sudden, without cause or precedent, they write, 'Set him at liberty'; and add to their missive,

"What do you expect? It is they who write," said Aramis, "and it is for you to execute the order."

"Gracious Heaven! my very good M. Baisemeaux, who ever said so? Your independence is known."

"And your obedience to your superiors. Once a soldier, you see, Baisemeaux, always a soldier."

"And so I shall strictly obey; and tomorrow morning, at daybreak, the prisoner referred to shall be set free."

"Why not this evening, seeing that the lettre de cachet bears, both on the direction and inside, 'Urgent'?"

"Dear Baisemeaux, booted though I be, I feel myself a priest; and charity has higher claims upon me than

hunger and thirst. This unfortunate man has suffered long enough, since you have just told me that lie has

been your prisoner these ten years. Abridge his suffering. His good time has come; give him the benefit

Baisemeaux leaned back to ring for Francois, and by a very natural motion turned round towards the door.

The order had remained on the table. Aramis seized the opportunity when Baisemeaux was not looking to

change the paper for another, folded in the same manner, which he took from his pocket. "Francois," said the

governor, "let the major come up here with the turnkeys of the Bertaudiere." Francois bowed and quitted the

THERE was now a brief silence, during which Aramis never removed his eyes from Baisemeaux for a

moment. The latter seemed only half decided to disturb himself thus in the middle of supper; and it was clear

that he was seeking some pretext, whether good or bad, for delay, at any rate till after dessert. And it

"'Tis impossible to set a prisoner at liberty at such an hour. Where can he go to, he, who is unacquainted

"You have an answer for everything. Francois, tell Monsieur the Major to go and open the cell of M. Seldon,

"And I saw 'Seldon' in letters as large as that"; and Baisemeaux held up his finger.

"And I read 'Marchiali,' in characters as large as this," said Aramis, holding up two fingers.

"To the proof; let us throw a light on the matter," said Baisemeaux, confident he was right. "There is the

Baisemeaux looked, and his arms dropped suddenly. "Yes, yes," he said, quite overwhelmed; "yes, Marchiali.

"How? The man of whom we have talked so much? The man whom they are every day telling me to take

"'Tis a wonder! I still see this order and the name of Seldon, Irishman. I see it. Ah! I even recollect that under

"Oh, but there was, though! I know it, because I rubbed the powder that was over the blot."

"In a word, be it how it may, dear M. Baisemeaux," said Aramis, "and whatever you may have seen, the order

"The order is signed to release Marchiali!" repeated Baisemeaux, mechanically endeavoring to regain his

"And you are going to release this prisoner. If your heart dictates to you to deliver Seldon also, I declare to

Aramis accompanied this remark with a smile, the irony of which effectually dispelled Baisemeaux's

"Monseigneur," said the governor, "this Marchiali is the very same prisoner whom the other day a priest,

"It is true. But with us, Monsieur, it is good that the man of today should no longer know what the man of

"In any case," said Baisemeaux, "the visit of the Jesuit confessor must have given happiness to this man."

Aramis made no reply, but recommenced eating and drinking. As for Baisemeaux, no longer touching

anything that was on the table, he again took up the order and examined it in every way. This investigation,

under ordinary circumstances, would have made the ears of the impatient Aramis burn with anger; but the

Bishop of Vannes did not become incensed for so little, especially when he had murmured to himself that to

do so was dangerous. "Are you going to release Marchiali?" he said. "What mellow and fragrant sherry this

"Monseigneur," replied Baisemeaux, "I shall release the prisoner Marchiali when I have summoned the

courier who brought the order, and above all, when by interrogating him I have satisfied myself."

"The order is sealed, and the courier is ignorant of the contents. What do you want to satisfy yourself about?"

"Be it so, Monseigneur; but I shall send to the ministry, and M. de Lyonne will either confirm or withdraw

"The object of never deceiving one's self, Monseigneur, of not failing in the respect which a subaltern owes

to his superior officers, nor neglecting the duties of that service which one has voluntarily accepted."

"Very good; you have just spoken so eloquently that I cannot but admire you. It is true that a subaltern owes

respect to his superiors; he is guilty when he deceives himself, and he should be punished if he disregard

"It follows," pursued Aramis, "that you are going to ask advice in order to put your conscience at ease?"

"I see it plain enough on the order; but just as the King's signature may have been forged, so also, even more

"Your logic has the stride of a giant, M. de Baisemeaux," said Aramis; "and your reasoning is irresistible. But

"On this: the absence of countersignatures. Nothing checks his Majesty's signature; and M. de Lyonne is not

"Well, M. de Baisemeaux," said Aramis, bending an eagle glance on the governor, "I adopt so frankly your

doubts, and your mode of clearing them up, that I will take a pen, if you will give me one."

"Now, I I, also I, here present incontestably, I am going to write an order to which I am certain you will

Baisemeaux turned pale at this icy assurance of manner. It seemed to him that that voice of Aramis, but just

now so playful and so gay, had become funereal and sinister; that the waxlights had changed into the tapers

"A. M. D. G." wrote the bishop; and he drew a cross under these four letters, which signify ad majorem Dei

"It is our pleasure that the order brought to M. de Baisemeaux de Montlezun, governor, for the King, of the

castle of the Bastille, be held by him good and effectual, and be immediately carried into operation.

Baisemeaux was so profoundly astonished that his features remained contracted, his lips parted, and his eyes

fixed. He did not move an inch, nor articulate a sound. Nothing could be heard in that large chamber but the

Aramis, without even deigning to look at the man whom he had reduced to so miserable a condition, drew

from his pocket a small case of black wax. He sealed the letter, and stamped it with a seal suspended at his

breast, beneath his doublet; and when the operation was concluded, presented still in silence the missive to

M. de Baisemeaux. The latter, whose hands trembled in a manner to excite pity, turned a dull and

meaningless gaze upon the letter. A last gleam of feeling played over his features, and he fell, as if

"Come, come," said Aramis, after a long silence, during which the governor of the Bastille had slowly

recovered his senses, "do not lead me to believe, dear Baisemeaux, that the presence of the general of the

order is as terrible as that of the Almighty, and that men die merely from seeing him! Take courage, rouse

Baisemeaux, reassured, if not satisfied, obeyed, kissed Aramis's hand, and rose from his chair.

"Oh, there is no pressing haste, my host; take your place again, and do the honors over this beautiful dessert."

"Monseigneur, I shall never recover such a shock as this, I who have laughed, who have jested with you! I

"Say nothing about it, old comrade," replied the bishop, who perceived how strained the cord was, and how

dangerous it might be to break it; "say nothing about it. Let us each live in our own way: to you, my

protection and my friendship; to me, your obedience. Exactly fulfilling these two requirements, let us live

Baisemeaux reflected. He perceived, at a glance, the consequences of this withdrawal of a prisoner by means

of a forged order; and putting in the scale the guarantee offered him by the official order of the general, did

Aramis divined this. "My dear Baisemeaux," said he, "you are a simpleton! Lose this habit of reflection when

At another gesture made by Aramis, Baisemeaux bowed again. "How shall I set about it?"

"I go with my major to the prisoner's room, and conduct him, if he is a personage of importance."

"I don't know," answered the governor; as if he would have said, "It is for you to instruct me."

"Then, if you don't know it, I am right; so act towards Marchiali as you act towards one of obscure station."

"Good; the regulations so provide. They are to the effect that the turnkey, or one of the lower officials, shall

"Then we return to the prisoner the valuables he wore at the time of his imprisonment, his clothes and papers,

"Nothing; for the unhappy man arrived here without jewels, without papers, and almost without clothes."

"See how simple it all is! Indeed, Baisemeaux, you make a mountain of everything. Remain here, and make

Baisemeaux obeyed. He summoned his lieutenant, and gave him an order, which the latter passed on, without

Half an hour afterwards they heard a gate shut in the court; it was the door to the dungeon which had just

rendered up its prey to the free air. Aramis blew out all the candles which lighted the room but one, which he

left burning behind the door. This flickering glare prevented the sight from resting steadily on any object. It

multiplied tenfold the changing forms and shadows of the place by its wavering uncertainty. Steps drew near.

The governor obeyed. The sergeant and turnkeys disappeared. Baisemeaux reentered, followed by a

prisoner. Aramis had placed himself in the shade; he saw without being seen. Baisemeaux, in an agitated tone

of voice, made the young man acquainted with the order which set him at liberty. The prisoner listened,

"You will swear, the regulation requires it," added the governor, "never to reveal anything that you have

The prisoner perceived a crucifix; he stretched out his hand, and swore with his lips. "And now, Monsieur,

The prisoner turned his head, as if looking behind him for some protection which he had expected. Then was

it that Aramis came out of the shadow. "I am here," he said, "to render the gentleman whatever service he

The prisoner slightly reddened, and without hesitation passed his arm through that of Aramis. "God have you

in his holy keeping!" he said, in a voice the firmness of which made the governor tremble as much as the

Aramis, on shaking hands with Baisemeaux, said to him: "Does my order trouble you? Do you fear their

"I desire to keep it, Monseigneur," said Baisemeaux. "If they found it here, it would be a certain indication of

"Being your accomplice, you mean?" answered Aramis, shrugging his shoulders. "Adieu, Baisemeaux!" said

The horses were in waiting, making the carriage shake with their impatience. Baisemeaux accompanied the

bishop to the bottom of the steps. Aramis caused his companion to enter before him, then followed, and

The carriage rattled over the pavement of the courtyard. An officer with a torch went before the horses, and

gave orders at every post to let them pass. During the time taken in opening all the barriers, Aramis barely

breathed, and you might have heard his heart beat against his ribs. The prisoner, buried in a corner of the

carriage, made no more sign of life than his companion. At length a jolt more severe than the others

announced to them that they had cleared the last watercourse. Behind the carriage closed the last gate, that

in the Rue St. Antoine. No more walls either on the right or left; heaven everywhere, liberty everywhere, life

everywhere! The horses, kept in check by a vigorous hand, went quietly as far as the middle of the faubourg.

There they began to trot. Little by little, whether they warmed over it or whether they were urged, they gained

in swiftness; and once past Bercy, the carriage seemed to fly. These horses ran thus as far as

VilleneuveSaintGeorges, where relays were waiting. Then four instead of two whirled the carriage away in

the direction of Melun, and pulled up for a moment in the middle of the forest of Senart. No doubt the order

had been given the postilion beforehand, for Aramis had no occasion even to make a sign.

"The matter is, Monseigneur," said Aramis, "that before going further, it is necessary that your royal

"We could not have a better, Monseigneur; we are in the middle of a forest, and no one can hear us."

"Yes; we are comfortably seated, and I like this carriage; it has restored me to liberty."

"We are here on the highway; cavaliers or carriages travelling like ourselves might pass, and seeing us

stopping deem us in some difficulty. Let us avoid offers of assistance, which would embarrass us."

Aramis made a sign to the deaf and dumb driver of the carriage, whom he touched on the arm. The latter

dismounted, took the leaders by the bridle, and led them over the velvet sward and the mossy grass of a

winding alley, at the bottom of which, on this moonless night, the deep shades formed a curtain blacker than

ink. This done, the man lay down on a slope near his horses, which on either side kept nibbling the young oak

"I am listening," said the young Prince to Aramis; "but what are you doing there?"

"I am disarming myself of my pistols, of which we have no further need, Monseigneur."

"AY PRINCE," said Aramis, turning in the carriage towards his companion, "weak creature as I am, so

unpretending in genius, so low in the scale of intelligent beings, it has never yet happened to me to converse

with a man without penetrating his thoughts through that living mask which has been thrown over our mind

in order to retain its expression. But tonight, in this darkness, in the reserve which you maintain, I can read

nothing on your features, and something tells me that I shall have great difficulty in wresting from you a

sincere declaration. I beseech you, then, not for love of me, for subjects should never weigh as anything in

the balance which princes hold, but for love of yourself, to attend to every syllable I may utter, and to every

tone of my voice, which under our present grave circumstances will all have a sense and value as important

"I listen," repeated the young Prince, decidedly, "without either eagerly seeking or fearing anything you are

about to say to me"; and he sank still deeper in the thick cushions of the carriage, trying to deprive his

companion not only of the sight of him, but even of the very idea of his presence.

Black was the darkness which fell wide and dense from the summits of the intertwining trees. The carriage,

covered in by this vast roof, would not have received a particle of light, not even if a ray could have struggled

"Monseigneur," resumed Aramis, "you know the history of the government which today controls France.

The King issued from an infancy imprisoned like yours, obscure as yours, and confined as yours; only,

instead of enduring, like yourself, this slavery in a prison, this obscurity in solitude, these straitened

circumstances in concealment, he has borne all these miseries, humiliations, and distresses in full daylight,

under the pitiless sun of royalty, on an elevation so flooded with light, where every stain appears a

miserable blemish, and every glory a stain. The King has suffered; it rankles in his mind, and he will avenge

himself. He will be a bad King. I say not that he will pour out blood, like Louis XI or Charles IX, for he has

no mortal injuries to avenge; but he will devour the means and substance of his people, for he has himself

suffered injuriously as to his own welfare and possessions. In the first place, then, I quite acquit my

conscience, when I consider openly the merits and faults of this Prince; and if I condemn him, my conscience

Aramis paused. It was not to ascertain if the silence of the forest remained undisturbed, but it was to gather

up his thoughts from the very bottom of his soul, and to leave the thoughts he had uttered sufficient time to

"All that God does, he does well," continued the Bishop of Vannes; "and I am so persuaded of it that I have

long been thankful to have been chosen depositary of the secret which I have aided you to discover. To a just

Providence was necessary an instrument, at once penetrating, persevering, and convinced, to accomplish a

great work. I am this instrument. I possess penetration, perseverance, conviction; I govern a mysterious

people, who has taken for its motto the motto of God, Patiens quia aeternus." The Prince moved. "I divine,

Monseigneur, why you raise your head, and that my having rule over a people astonishes you. You did not

know you were dealing with a king: oh, Monseigneur, king of a people very humble, very poor, humble,

because they have no force save when creeping; poor, because never, almost never in this world, do my

people reap the harvest they sow, or eat the fruit they cultivate. They labor for an abstract idea; they heap

together all the atoms of their power to form one man; and round this man, with the sweat of their labor, they

create a misty halo which his genius shall, in turn, render a glory gilded with the rays of all the crowns in

Christendom. Such is the man you have beside you, Monseigneur. He has drawn you from the abyss for a

great purpose, and he desires, in furtherance of this sublime purpose, to raise you above the powers of the

The Prince lightly touched Aramis's arm. "You speak to me," he said, "of that religious order whose chief you

are. For me the result of your words is, that the day you desire to hurl down the man you shall have raised,

the event will be accomplished; and that you will keep under your hand your creature of today."

"Undeceive yourself, Monseigneur," replied the bishop. "I should not take the trouble to play this terrible

game with your royal Highness, if I had not a double interest in winning. The day you are elevated, you are

elevated forever; you will overturn the footstool, as you rise, and will send it rolling so far that not even the

"Your movement, Monseigneur, arises from an excellent disposition. I thank you. Be well assured, I aspire to

more than gratitude! I am convinced that when arrived at the summit you will judge me still more worthy to

be your friend; and then, Monseigneur, we two will do such great deeds that ages hereafter shall speak of

"Tell me plainly, Monsieur, tell me without disguise, what I am today, and what you aim at my being

"You are the son of King Louis XIII, brother of Louis XIV; you are the natural and legitimate heir to the

throne of France. In keeping you near him, as Monsieur has been kept, Monsieur, your younger brother,

the King would reserve to himself the right of being legitimate sovereign. The doctors only and God could

dispute his legitimacy. But the doctors always prefer the King who is to the King who is not. God has

wrought against himself in wronging a Prince who is an honest man. But God has willed that you should be

persecuted; and this persecution today consecrates you King of France. You had then a right to reign, seeing

that it is disputed; you had a right to be proclaimed, seeing that you have been concealed; you are of kingly

blood, since no one has dared to shed your blood as your servants' has been shed. Now see what He has done

for you, this God whom you so often accused of having in every way thwarted you! He has given you the

features, figure, age, and voice of your brother; and the very causes of your persecution are about to become

those of your triumphant restoration. Tomorrow, after tomorrow, from the very first, regal phantom,

living shade of Louis XIV, you will sit upon his throne, whence the will of Heaven, confided in execution to

"You will employ it against him. What did he do to conceal it? He concealed you. Living image of himself,

you will defeat the conspiracy of Mazarin and Anne of Austria. You, my Prince, will have the same interest

in concealing him, who will as a prisoner resemble you, as you will resemble him as King."

"You know this secret, you have made use of it with regard to myself. Who else knows it?"

"I will cause Spain to consent to a divorce: it is in the interest of your new policy; it is human morality. All

that is really noble and really useful in this world will find its account therein."

"I was going to say, that the designs of Providence do not stop on such a fair road. Every scheme of this

calibre is completed by its results, like a geometrical calculation. The King in prison will not be for you the

cause of embarrassment that you have been for the King enthroned. His soul is naturally proud and impatient;

it is, moreover, disarmed and enfeebled by being accustomed to honors, and by the license of supreme power.

God, who has willed that the concluding step in the geometrical calculation I have had the honor of

describing to your royal Highness should be your accession to the throne and the destruction of him who is

hurtful to you, has also determined that the conquered one shall soon end both his own and your sufferings.

Therefore his soul and body have been adapted for but a brief agony. Put into prison as a private individual,

left alone with your doubts, deprived of everything, you have met all with the force of uninterrupted custom.

But your brother, a captive, forgotten, and in bonds, will not long endure the calamity, and Heaven will

At this point in Aramis's gloomy analysis a bird of night uttered from the depths of the forest that prolonged

"I will exile the deposed King," said Philippe, shuddering; "'twill be more humane."

"The King's good pleasure will decide the point," said Aramis. "But has the problem been well put? Have I

brought out the solution according to the wishes or the foresight of your royal Highness?"

"Let us speak of it at once, with the same frankness we have already used. Let us speak of the causes which

may bring about the ruin of all the hopes we have conceived. Let us speak of the dangers we incur."

"They would be immense, infinite, terrific, insurmountable, if, as I have said, all things did not concur in

rendering them absolutely of no account. There is no danger either for you or for me, if the constancy and

intrepidity of your royal Highness are equal to that perfection of resemblance to your brother which Nature

has bestowed upon you. I repeat it, there are no dangers, only obstacles; a word, indeed, which I find in all

languages, but have always ill understood, and, were I King, would have obliterated as useless and absurd."

"Yes, indeed, Monsieur; there is a very serious obstacle, an insurmountable danger, which you are

"Oh! that is true," said the bishop; "there is a weakness of heart of which you remind me. Oh! you are right;

that, indeed, is an immense obstacle. The horse afraid of the ditch leaps into the middle of it, and is killed!

The man who trembling crosses his sword with that of another leaves loopholes by which death enters!"

The young man sank into so profound a silence that the sound of his breathing seemed to Aramis like a

roaring tumult. "Monseigneur," he resumed, "I have not said all I had to say to your royal Highness; I have

not offered you all the salutary counsels and useful resources which I have at my disposal. It is useless to

flash bright visions before the eyes of one who loves darkness; useless, too, is it to let the grand roar of the

cannon sound in the ears of one who loves repose and the quiet of the country. Monseigneur, I have your

happiness spread out before me in my thoughts. I will let it fall from my lips; take it up carefully for yourself,

who look with such tender regard upon the bright heavens, the verdant meadows, the pure air. I know a

country full of delights, an unknown Paradise, a corner of the world where alone, unfettered, and unknown, in

the woods, amidst flowers, and streams of rippling water, you will forget all the misery that human folly has

so recently allotted you. Oh, listen to me, my Prince! I do not jest. I have a soul, and can read to the depths of

your own. I will not take you, unready for your task, in order to cast you into the crucible of my own desires

or my caprice or my ambition. Everything or nothing! You are chilled, sick at heart, almost overcome by the

excess of emotion which but one hour's liberty has produced in you. For me, that is a certain and

unmistakable sign that you do not wish for large and long respiration. Let us choose, then, a life more

humble, better suited to our strength. Heaven is my witness that I wish your happiness to be the result of the

"I know," resumed the prelate, "in the BasPoitou, a canton of which no one in France suspects the existence.

Twenty leagues of country, it is immense, is it not? Twenty leagues, Monseigneur, all covered with water

and herbage and reeds; the whole studded with islands covered with woods. These large marshes, covered

with reeds as with a thick mantle, sleep silently and calmly under the smiling sun. A few fishermen with their

families pass their lives away there, with their large rafts of poplars and alders, the flooring formed of reeds,

and the roof woven out of thick rushes. These barks, these floating houses, are wafted to and fro by the

changing winds. Whenever they touch a bank, it is but by chance; and so gently, too, that the sleeping

fisherman is not awakened by the shock. Should he wish to land, it is because he has seen a large flight of

landrails or plovers, of wild ducks, teal, widgeon, or W.s, which fall an easy prey to his nets or his

gun. Silver shad, eels, greedy pike, red and gray mullet, fall in masses into his nets; he has but to choose the

finest and largest, and return the others to the waters. Never yet has the foot of man, be he soldier or simple

citizen, never has any one, indeed, penetrated into that district. The sun's rays there are soft and tempered; in

plots of solid earth, whose soil is rich and fertile, grows the vine, which nourishes with its generous juice its

black and white grapes. Once a week a boat is sent to fetch the bread which has been baked at an oven, the

common property of all. There, like the seigneurs of early days, powerful because of your dogs, your

fishinglines, your guns, and your beautiful reedbuilt house, would you live, rich in the produce of the

chase, in the plenitude of security. There would years of your life roll away, at the end of which,

unrecognizable, transformed, you will have compelled Heaven to reshape your destiny. There are a thousand

pistoles in this bag, Monseigneur, more than sufficient to purchase the whole marsh of which I have spoken;

more than enough to live there as many years as you have days to live; more than enough to constitute you

the richest, the freest, and the happiest man in the country. Accept it, as I offer it to you, sincerely,

cheerfully. Forthwith, from the carriage here we will unharness two of the horses; the mute, my servant, shall

conduct you travelling by night, sleeping by day to the locality I have mentioned; and I shall at least have

the satisfaction of knowing that I have rendered to my Prince the service that he himself preferred. I shall

have made one man happy; and Heaven for that will hold me in better account than if I had made one man

powerful, for that is far more difficult. And now, Monseigneur, your answer to this proposition? Here is the

money. Nay, do not hesitate! At Poitou you can risk nothing, except the chance of catching the fevers

prevalent there; and even of them, the socalled wizards of the country may cure you for your pistoles. If you

play the other game, you run the chance of being assassinated on a throne or of being strangled in a prison.

Upon my soul, I assure you, now I compare them together, upon my life, I should hesitate."

"Monsieur," replied the young Prince, "before I determine, let me alight from this carriage, walk on the

ground, and consult that voice by which God speaks in unsullied Nature. Ten minutes, and I will answer."

"As you please, Monseigneur," said Aramis, bending before him with respect, so solemn and august in its

ARAMIS was the first to descend from the carriage; he held the door open for the young man. He saw him

place his foot on the mossy ground with a trembling of the whole body, and walk round the carriage with an

unsteady and almost tottering step. It seemed as if the poor prisoner were unaccustomed to walk on God's

earth. It was the 15th of August, about eleven o'clock at night; thick clouds, portending a tempest, overspread

the heavens, and shrouded all light and prospect beneath their heavy folds. The extremities of the avenues

were imperceptibly detached from the copse by a lighter shadow of opaque gray, which upon closer

examination became visible in the midst of the obscurity. But the fragrance which ascended from the grass,

fresher and more penetrating than that which exhaled from the trees around him; the warm and balmy air

which enveloped him for the first time in years; the ineffable enjoyment of liberty in an open country, spoke

to the Prince in a language so intoxicating that notwithstanding the great reserve, we should almost say the

dissimulation, of which we have tried to give an idea, he could not restrain his emotion, and breathed a sigh

of joy. Then, by degrees, he raised his aching head and inhaled the perfumed air, as it was wafted in gentle

gusts across his uplifted face. Crossing his arms on his chest as if to control this new sensation of delight, he

drank in delicious draughts of that mysterious air which penetrates at nighttime through lofty forests. The

sky he was contemplating, the murmuring waters, the moving creatures, were not these real? Was not

Aramis a madman to suppose that he had aught else to dream of in this world? Those exciting pictures of

country life, so free from cares, from fears and troubles; that ocean of happy days which glitters incessantly

before all youthful imaginations, those were real allurements wherewith to fascinate an unhappy prisoner,

worn out by prison life and emaciated by the close air of the Bastille. It was the picture, it will be

remembered, drawn by Aramis when he offered to the Prince a thousand pistoles which he had with him in

the carriage, the enchanted Eden which the deserts of BasPoitou hid from the eyes of the world.

Similar to these were the reflections of Aramis as he watched, with an anxiety impossible to describe, the

silent progress of the emotions of Philippe, whom he perceived gradually becoming more and more absorbed

in his meditations. The young Prince was offering up an inward prayer to Heaven for a ray of light upon that

perplexity whence would issue his death or his life. It was an anxious time for the Bishop of Vannes, who had

never before been so perplexed. Was his iron will, accustomed to overcome all obstacles, never finding itself

inferior or vanquished, to be foiled in so vast a project from not having foreseen the influence which a few

treeleaves and a few cubic feet of air might have on the human mind? Aramis, overwhelmed by anxiety,

contemplated the painful struggle which was taking place in Philippe's mind. This suspense lasted throughout

the ten minutes which the young man had requested. During that eternity Philippe continued gazing with an

imploring and sorrowful look towards the heavens. Aramis did not remove the piercing glance he had fixed

on Philippe. Suddenly the young man bowed his head. His thoughts returned to the earth, his looks

perceptibly hardened, his brow contracted, his mouth assumed an expression of fierce courage; and then

again his look became fixed, but now it reflected the flame of mundane splendors, now it was like the face

of Satan on the mountain when he brought into view the kingdoms and the powers of earth as temptations to

Philippe, seizing his hand in a quick, agitated manner, exclaimed: "Let us go where the crown of France is to

Philippe did not even deign to reply. He gazed earnestly at the bishop, as if to ask him if it were possible for a

"Those looks are flashes of fire which portray character," said Aramis, bowing over Philippe's hand. "You

"Let us resume our conversation. I wished to discuss two points with you: in the first place, the dangers or the

obstacles we may meet with. That point is decided. The other is the conditions you intend to impose on me. It

"Doubtless. You will not check me in my course for a trifle, and you will not do me the injustice to suppose

that I think you have no interest in this affair. Therefore, without subterfuge or hesitation, tell me the truth."

"I sent to your Highness a man in my confidence, with instructions to deliver some closely written notes,

carefully drawn up, which will thoroughly acquaint your Highness with the different persons who compose

"And understood them? Pardon me, but I may venture to ask that question of a poor, abandoned captive of

the Bastille. It will not be a requisite in a week's time to question further a mind like yours, when you will

"Interrogate me, then, and I will be a scholar repeating his lesson to his master."

"My mother, Anne of Austria? all her sorrows, her painful malady? Oh, I know her, I know her!"

"To these notes," replied the Prince, "you have added portraits so faithfully painted that I am able to

recognize the persons whose characters, manners, and history you have so carefully portrayed. Monsieur, my

brother, is a fine, dark young man, with a pale face; he does not love his wife, Henrietta, whom I, Louis XIV,

loved a little, and still flirt with, even although she made me weep on the day she wished to dismiss

"You will have to be careful with regard to watchfulness of the latter," said Aramis; "she is sincerely attached

"She is fair; has blue eyes, whose affectionate gaze will reveal her identity. She halts slightly in her gait. She

writes a letter every day, to which I shall have to send an answer by M. de SaintAignan."

"As if I saw him; and I know the last verses he composed for me, as well as those I composed in answer to

"Colbert, an ugly, darkbrowed man, but intelligent; his hair covering his forehead; a large, heavy, full head;

Aramis, struck with admiration at the remark, said, "You will become very great, Monseigneur."

"You see," added the Prince, "that I know my lesson by heart; and with Heaven's assistance, and yours

"He who escorted La Valliere to Chaillot; he who delivered up Monk, in a box, to Charles II; he who so

faithfully served my mother; he to whom the Crown of France owes so much that it owes everything. Do you

"Never, Sire! D'Artagnan is a man to whom at a certain given time I will undertake to reveal everything. Be

on your guard with him; for if he discovers our plot before it is revealed to him, you or I will certainly be

"I will consider. Now tell me about M. Fouquet; what do you wish to be done with regard to him?"

"One moment more, I entreat you, Monseigneur; and forgive me if I seem to fail in respect in questioning you

"Before we pass to M. Fouquet, I should very much regret forgetting another friend of mine."

"M. du Vallon, the Hercules of France, you mean. Oh! so far as he is concerned, his fortune is assured."

"The lad who is dying of love for La Valliere, of whom my brother so disloyally deprived him? Be easy on

that score! I shall know how to restore him. Tell me one thing, M. d'Herblay! Do men, when they love, forget

the treachery that has been shown them? Can a man ever forgive the woman who has betrayed him? Is that a

"A man who loves deeply, as deeply as Raoul loves Mademoiselle de la Valliere, finally forgets the fault of

"A King ignorant and embarrassed as I shall be, will, as a matter of course, require a first minister of State."

"You will have many others by and by, but none so devoted, none so zealous for your glory."

"Not immediately, Monseigneur; for that would give rise to too much suspicion and astonishment."

"M. de Richelieu, the first minister of my grandmother, Marie de Medicis, was simply Bishop of Lucon, as

"I perceive that your royal Highness has studied my notes to great advantage; your amazing perspicacity

"I know, indeed, that M. de Richelieu, by means of the Queen's protection, soon became cardinal."

"It would be better," said Aramis, bowing, "that I should not be appointed first minister until after your royal

"You shall be nominated before two months are past, M. d'Herblay. But that is a matter of very trifling

moment; you would not offend me if you were to ask more than that, and you would cause me serious regret

"M. Fouquet will not continue long at the head of affairs; he will soon get old. He is fond of pleasure, which

at present is compatible with his labors, thanks to the youthfulness which he still retains; but this youthfulness

will disappear at the approach of the first serious annoyance, or upon the first illness he may experience. We

will spare him the annoyance, because he is a brave and noblehearted man; but we cannot save him from

illhealth. So it is determined. When you shall have paid all M. Fouquet's debts, and restored the finances to

a sound condition, M. Fouquet will be able to remain the sovereign ruler in his little court of poets and

painters; we shall have made him rich. When that has been done, and I shall have become your royal

Highness's prime minister, I shall be able to think of my own interests and yours."

"M. de Richelieu, of whom we were speaking just now," said Aramis, "was very blamable in the fixed idea he

had of governing France unaided. He allowed two kings King Louis XIII and himself to be seated upon the

same throne, when he might have installed them more conveniently upon two separate thrones."

"In fact," pursued Aramis, quietly, "a cardinal, prime minister of France, assisted by the favor and by the

countenance of his Most Christian Majesty the King of France; a cardinal to whom the King his master lends

the treasures of the State, his army, his counsel, such a man would be acting with twofold injustice in

applying these mighty resources to France alone. Besides," added Aramis, with a searching look into the eyes

of Philippe, "you will not be a King such as your father was, delicate in health, slow in judgment, whom all

things wearied; you will be a King governing by your brain and by your sword. You would have in the

government of the State no more than you could manage unaided; I should only interfere with you. Besides,

our friendship ought never to be, I do not say impaired, but even grazed by a secret thought. I shall have

given you the throne of France; you will confer on me the throne of Saint Peter. Whenever your loyal, firm,

and mailed hand shall have for its mate the hand of a pope such as I shall be, neither Charles V, who owned

two thirds of the habitable globe, nor Charlemagne, who possessed it entirely, will reach to the height of your

waist. I have no alliances; I have no predilections. I will not throw you into persecutions of heretics, nor will I

cast you into the troubled waters of family dissension; I will simply say to you: The whole universe is for us

two, for me the minds of men, for you their bodies; and as I shall be the first to die, you will have my

"I say that you render me happy and proud, for no other reason than that of having comprehended you

thoroughly. M. d'Herblay, you shall be cardinal, and when cardinal, my prime minister; and then you will

point out to me the necessary steps to be taken to secure your election as pope, and I will take them. You can

"It is useless. I shall never act except in such a manner that you will be the gainer; I shall never mount until I

shall have first placed you upon the round of the ladder immediately above me; I shall always hold myself

sufficiently aloof from you to escape incurring your jealousy, sufficiently near to sustain your personal

advantage and to watch over your friendship. All the contracts in the world are easily violated because the

interest included in them inclines more to one side than to another. With us, however, it will never be the

"Simply. We will remove him from his bed by means of a plank which yields to the pressure of the finger.

Having retired to rest as a crowned sovereign, he will awaken in captivity. Alone, you will rule from that

moment, and you will have no interest more urgent than that of keeping me near you."

"Allow me to kneel before you, Sire, most respectfully. We will embrace each other on the day when we shall

"Embrace me this very day; and be more than great, more than skilful, more than sublime in genius, be good

Aramis was almost overcome as he listened to the voice of the Prince. He fancied he detected in his own

heart an emotion hitherto unknown to him; but this impression was speedily removed. "His father!" he

The two resumed their places in the carriage, which sped rapidly along the road leading to VauxleVicomte.

THE Chateau de VauxleVicomte, situated about a league from Melun, had been built by Fouquet in 1653.

There was then but little money in France; Mazarin had taken all that there was, and Fouquet had expended

the remainder. However, as certain men have fertile faults and useful vices, Fouquet, in scattering broadcast

millions of money in the construction of this palace, had found a means of bringing, as the result of his

generous profusion, three illustrious men together, Levau, the architect of the building; Lenotre, the

designer of the gardens; and Lebrun the decorator of the apartments. If the Chateau de Vaux possessed a

single fault with which it could be reproached, it was its grandiose, pretentious character. It is even at the

present day proverbial to calculate the number of acres of roofing, the reparation of which would, in our age,

be the ruin of fortunes cramped and narrowed as the epoch itself. VauxleVicomte, when its magnificent

gates, supported by caryatides, have been passed through, has the principal front of the main building opening

upon a vast court of honor, enclosed by deep ditches, bordered by a magnificent stone balustrade. Nothing

could be more noble in appearance than the forecourt of the middle, raised upon the flight of steps, like a king

upon his throne, having around it four pavilions forming the angles, the immense Ionic columns of which rise

majestically to the whole height of the building. The friezes ornamented with arabesques, and the pediments

which crown the pilasters, confer richness and grace upon every part of the building, while the domes which

surmount the whole add proportion and majesty. This mansion, built by a subject, bore a far greater

resemblance to a royal residence than those that Wolsey fancied he must present to his master for fear of

rendering him jealous. But if magnificence and splendor were displayed in any one particular part of this

palace more than in another, if anything could be preferred to the wonderful arrangement of the interior, to

the sumptuousness of the gilding, and to the profusion of the paintings and statues, it would be the park and

gardens of Vaux. The fountains, which were regarded as wonderful in 1653, are still so at the present time;

the cascades awakened the admiration of kings and princes; and as for the famous grotto, the theme of so

many poetical effusions, the residence of that illustrious nymph of Vaux, whom Pellisson made converse

with La Fontaine, we must be spared the description of all its beauties. We will do as Despreaux did, we

will enter the park, the trees of which are of eight years' growth only, and whose summits, already superb,

blushingly unfold their leaves to the earliest rays of the rising sun. Lenotre had accelerated the pleasure of

Maecenas; all the nurserygrounds had furnished trees whose growth had been promoted by careful culture

and fertilization. Every tree in the neighborhood which presented a fair appearance of beauty or stature, had

been taken up by its roots and transplanted in the park. Fouquet could well afford to purchase trees to

ornament his park, since he had bought up three villages and their appurtenances to increase its extent. M. de

Scudery said of this palace, that, for the purpose of keeping the grounds and gardens well watered, M.

Fouquet had divided a river into a thousand fountains, and gathered the waters of a thousand fountains into

torrents. This same M. de Scudery said a great many other things in his "Clelie," about this palace of Valterre,

the charms of which he describes most minutely. We should be far wiser to send our curious readers to Vaux

to judge for themselves than to refer them to the "Clelie"; and yet there are as many leagues from Paris to

This magnificent palace had been got ready for the reception of the greatest reigning sovereign of the time.

M. Fouquet's friends had transported thither, some their actors and their dresses, others their troops of

sculptors and artists; others still their readymended pens, floods of impromptus were contemplated. The

cascades, somewhat rebellious nymphs though they were, poured forth their waters brighter than crystal; they

scattered over the bronze tritons and nereids their waves of foam, which glistened in the rays of the sun. An

army of servants were hurrying to and fro in squadrons in the courtyard and corridors; while Fouquet, who

had only that morning arrived, moved about with a calm, observant glance, giving his last orders, after his

It was, as we have said, the 15th of August. The sun poured down its burning rays upon the heathen deities of

marble and bronze; it raised the temperature of the water in the conch shells, and ripened, on the walls, those

magnificent peaches of which the King, fifty years later, spoke so regretfully when, at Marly, on an occasion

of a scarcity of the finer sorts of peaches being complained of in the beautiful gardens there, gardens which

had cost France double the amount that had been expended on Vaux, the great King observed to some one,

Oh, fame! Oh the blazonry of renown! Oh the glory of the earth! That very man whose judgment was so

sound where merit was concerned, he who had swept into his coffers the inheritance of Nicholas Fouquet,

who had robbed him of Lenotre and Lebrun, and had sent him to rot for the remainder of his life in one of the

State prisons, remembered only the peaches of that vanquished, crushed, forgotten enemy! It was to little

purpose that Fouquet had squandered thirty million livres in the fountains of his gardens, in the crucibles of

his sculptors, in the writingdesks of his literary friends, in the portfolios of his painters; vainly had he

fancied that thereby he might be remembered. A peach a blushing, richflavored fruit, nestling in the

trelliswork on the gardenwall, hidden beneath its long green leaves, this small vegetable production, that

a dormouse would nibble up without a thought, was sufficient to recall to the memory of this great monarch

With a complete assurance that Aramis had made arrangements fairly to distribute the vast number of guests

throughout the palace, and that he had not omitted to attend to any of the internal regulations for their

comfort, Fouquet devoted his entire attentions to the ensemble. In one direction Gourville showed him the

preparations which had been made for the fireworks; in another, Moliere led him over the theatre; at last,

after he had visited the chapel, the salons, and the galleries, and was again going downstairs, exhausted with

fatigue, Fouquet saw Aramis on the staircase. The prelate beckoned to him. The superintendent joined his

friend, who paused before a large picture scarcely finished. Applying himself, heart and soul to his work, the

painter, Lebrun, covered with perspiration, stained with paint, pale from fatigue and inspiration, was putting

the last finishing touches with his rapid brush. It was the portrait of the King, whom they were expecting,

dressed in the court suit which Percerin had condescended to show beforehand to the Bishop of Vannes.

Fouquet placed himself before this portrait, which seemed to live, as one might say, in the cool freshness of

its flesh and in its warmth of color. He gazed upon it long and fixedly, estimated the prodigious labor that had

been bestowed upon it, and not being able to find any recompense sufficiently great for this herculean effort,

he passed his arm round the painter's neck, and embraced him. The superintendent, by this action, had ruined

a suit of clothes worth a thousand pistoles, but he had invigorated Lebrun. It was a happy moment for the

artist; it was an unhappy one for M. Percerin, who was walking behind Fouquet, and was engaged in

admiring, in Lebrun's painting, the suit that he had made for his Majesty, a perfect work of art, as he called

it, which was not to be matched except in the wardrobe of the superintendent. His distress and his

exclamations were interrupted by a signal which had been given from the summit of the mansion. In the

direction of Melun, in the still empty, open plain, the sentinels of Vaux had perceived the advancing

procession of the King and the Queens. His Majesty was entering into Melun with his long train of carriages

"And the people who ask one another what is the good of these royal fetes!" continued the Bishop of Vannes,

"I will answer you in fourandtwenty hours, Monseigneur. Assume a cheerful countenance, for it is a day of

"Well, believe me or not, as you like, d'Herblay," said the superintendent, with a swelling heart, pointing at

the cortege of Louis, visible in the horizon, "the King certainly loves me but very little, nor do I care much

"Well, then, since I know Louis is on his way hither, he is more sacred to me; he is my King, he is almost

"Dear! yes," said Aramis, playing upon the word, as the Abbe Terray did, at a later period, with Louis XV.

"Do not laugh, d'Herblay; I feel that if he were really to wish it, I could love that young man."

"Because he would allow you a pension out of the King's privy purse, as soon as he becomes superintendent,"

"You will be subject to very great restraint there. What an idea to condemn yourself to a room where you

"I have only one person with me. I find my reader quite sufficient. Adieu, Monseigneur! Do not overfatigue

Then Fouquet, bowing, with a smile passed on, like a commanderinchief who pays the different outposts a

THE King had, in point of fact, entered Melun with the intention of merely passing through the city. The

youthful monarch had an appetite for amusements. Only twice during the journey had he been able to catch a

glimpse of La Valliere; and suspecting that his only opportunity of speaking to her would be after nightfall, in

the gardens, and after the ceremonial of reception had been gone through, he had been very desirous to arrive

at Vaux as early as possible. But he reckoned without his captain of the Musketeers and without M. Colbert.

Like Calypso, who could not be consoled at the departure of Ulysses, our Gascon could not console himself

for not having guessed why Aramis had asked Percerin to show him the King's new costumes. "There is not a

doubt," he said to himself, "that my friend the Bishop of Vannes had some motive in that"; and then he began

to rack his brains most uselessly. D'Artagnan, so intimately acquainted with all the court intrigues, who knew

the position of Fouquet better even than Fouquet himself did, had conceived the strangest fancies and

suspicions at the announcement of the fete, which would have ruined a wealthy man, and which became

impossible, utter madness even, for a man so destitute as he was. And then, the presence of Aramis, who had

returned from BelleIsle, and been nominated by Fouquet inspectorgeneral of all the arrangements; his

perseverance in mixing himself up with all the superintendent's affairs; his visit to Baisemeaux, all this

suspicious singularity of conduct had profoundly perplexed d'Artagnan during the last few weeks.

"With men of Aramis's stamp," he said, "one is never the stronger except with sword in hand. So long as

Aramis continued a soldier, there was hope of getting the better of him; but since he has covered his cuirass

with a stole, we are lost. But what can Aramis's object be?" and d'Artagnan plunged again into deep thought.

"What does it matter to me, after all," he continued, "if his only object is to overthrow M. Colbert? And what

else can he be after?" and d'Artagnan rubbed his forehead, that fertile land, whence the ploughshare of his

nails had turned up so many and such admirable ideas. He at first thought of talking the matter over with

Colbert; but his friendship for Aramis, the oath of earlier days, bound him too strictly. He revolted at the bare

idea of such a thing; and, besides, he hated the financier. He wished to unburden his mind to the King; but the

King would not be able to understand the suspicions which had not even the solidity of a shadow. He

resolved to address himself to Aramis directly, the first time he met him. "I will take him," said the

musketeer, "between a couple of candles suddenly; I will place my hand upon his heart, and he will tell me

What will he tell me? Yes, he will tell me something; for, mordioux! there is something underneath."

Somewhat calmer, d'Artagnan made every preparation for the journey, and took the greatest care that the

military household of the King, as yet very inconsiderable in numbers, should be well officered and well

disciplined in its limited proportions. The result was that through the captain's arrangements, the King, on

arriving at Melun, saw himself at the head of the Musketeers, his Swiss Guards, and a picket of the French

Guards. It might almost have been called a small army. M. Colbert looked at the troops with great delight; he

When this little army appeared before Melun, the chief magistrates came out to meet the King and to present

him with the keys of the city, and invited him to enter the Hotel de Ville to partake of the wine of honor. The

King, who expected to pass through the city and to proceed to Vaux without delay, became quite red in the

"Who was fool enough to occasion this delay?" muttered the King, between his teeth, as the chief magistrate

Colbert, having heard his name pronounced, said, "What was M. d'Artagnan good enough to say?"

"I was good enough to remark that it was you who stopped the King's progress, so that he might taste the vin

"I hardly know; but wait a moment, 'idiot,' I think it was, no, no, it was 'fool,' 'fool,' 'stupid.' That is what his

D'Artagnan, after this broadside, quietly caressed his horse. M. Colbert's large head seemed to become larger

than ever. D'Artagnan, seeing how ugly anger made him, did not stop halfway. The orator still went on with

his speech, while the King's color was visibly increasing. "Mordioux!" said the musketeer, coolly, "the King

is going to have an attack of determination of blood to the head. Where the deuce did you get hold of that

"Monsieur," said the financier, drawing himself up, "my zeal for the King's service inspired me with the

"Monsieur, Melun is a city, an excellent city, which pays well, and which it would be imprudent to

"There now! I, who do not pretend to be a financier, saw only one idea in your idea."

"That of causing a little annoyance to M. Fouquet, who is making himself quite giddy on his donjons yonder,

This was a homestroke, and a hard one. Colbert was confounded by it, and retired, thoroughly discomfited.

Fortunately, the speech was now at an end. The King drank the wine which was presented to him, and then all

resumed their course through the city. The King bit his lips in anger; for the evening was closing in, and all

hope of a walk with La Valliere was over. In order that the whole of the King's household should enter Vaux,

four hours at least were necessary, owing to the different arrangements. The King, therefore, who was boiling

with impatience, hurried forward as much as possible, in order to arrive before nightfall. But at the moment

"Is not the King going to sleep at Melun?" said Colbert, in a low tone of voice, to d'Artagnan.

M. Colbert must have been badly inspired that day, to address himself in that manner to the chief of the

Musketeers; for the latter guessed that the King's intention was very far from that of remaining where he was.

D'Artagnan would not allow him to enter Vaux except he were well and strongly accompanied, and desired

that his Majesty should not enter except with all the escort. On the other hand, he felt that these delays would

irritate that impatient character beyond measure. In what way could he possibly reconcile these two

difficulties? D'Artagnan took up Colbert's remark, and determined to repeat it to the King.

"Sire," he said, "M. Colbert has been asking me if your Majesty does not intend to sleep at Melun."

"Sleep at Melun! What for?" exclaimed Louis XIV. "Sleep at Melun! Who, in Heaven's name, can have

"It was simply," returned Colbert, quickly, "the fear of causing your Majesty any delay; for, according to

established etiquette, you cannot enter any place, with the exception of your own royal residences, until the

soldiers' quarters have been marked out by the quartermaster, and the garrison has been properly distributed."

D'Artagnan listened with the greatest attention, biting his mustache; and the Queens listened attentively also.

They were fatigued, and would have liked to go to rest without proceeding any farther, and especially to

prevent the King from walking about in the evening with M. de SaintAignan and the ladies of the court; for

if etiquette required the Princesses to remain within their own rooms, the ladies of honor, as soon as they had

performed the services required of them, had no restrictions placed upon them, but were at liberty to walk

about as they pleased. It will easily be conjectured that all these rival interests, gathering together in vapors,

must necessarily produce clouds, and that the clouds would be followed by a tempest. The King had no

mustache to gnaw, and therefore kept biting the handle of his whip instead, with illconcealed impatience.

How could he get out of it? D'Artagnan looked as agreeable as possible, and Colbert as sulky as he could.

This kindness of consideration softened Maria Theresa's heart, who was of a kind and generous disposition,

and who, left to her own free will, replied: "I shall be delighted to do whatever your Majesty wishes."

"How long will it take us to get to Vaux?" inquired Anne of Austria, in slow and measured accents, placing

"An hour for your Majesties' carriages," said d'Artagnan; "the roads are tolerably good."

The King looked at him. "And a quarter of an hour for the King," he hastened to add.

"But the billeting of the King's military escort," objected Colbert, softly, "will make his Majesty lose all the

"Double ass that you are!" thought d'Artagnan; "if I had any interest or motive in demolishing your credit, I

could do it in ten minutes. If I were in the King's place," he added, aloud, "I should, in going to M. Fouquet,

leave my escort behind me. I should go to him as a friend; I should enter accompanied only by my captain of

the Guards. I should consider that I was acting more nobly, and should be invested with a still more sacred

Delight sparkled in the King's eyes. "That is, indeed, a very good suggestion. We will go to see a friend as

friends. Those gentlemen who are with the carriages can go slowly; but we who are mounted Forward!" and

"I shall be quits," said d'Artagnan, as he galloped along, "by getting a little talk with Aramis this evening.

And then, M. Fouquet is a man of honor. Mordioux! I have said so, and it must be so."

In this way, towards seven o'clock in the evening, without trumpets, without advanced guard, without

outriders or musketeers, the King presented himself before the gate of Vaux, where Fouquet, who had been

informed of his royal guest's approach, had been waiting for the last halfhour, with his head uncovered,

FOUQUET held the stirrup of the King, who having dismounted bowed graciously, and more graciously still

held out his hand to him, which Fouquet, in spite of a slight resistance on the King's part, carried respectfully

to his lips. The King wished to wait in the first courtyard for the arrival of the carriages; nor had he long to

wait. For the roads had been put into excellent order by the superintendent, and a stone would hardly have

been found the size of an egg the whole way from Melun to Vaux; so that the carriages, rolling along as

though on a carpet, brought the ladies to Vaux, without jolting or fatigue, by eight o'clock. They were

received by Madame Fouquet; and at the moment when they made their appearance, a light as bright as day

burst forth from all the trees and vases and marble statues. This species of enchantment lasted until their

Majesties had retired into the palace. All these wonders and magical effects, which the chronicler has

heaped up, or rather preserved, in his recital at the risk of rivalling the creations of a romancist, these

splendors whereby night seemed conquered and Nature corrected, together with every delight and luxury

combined for the satisfaction of all the senses as well as of the mind, Fouquet really offered to his sovereign

in that enchanting retreat, to which no monarch could at that time boast of possessing an equal.

We do not intend to describe the grand banquet, at which all the royal guests were present, nor the concerts,

nor the fairylike and magical transformations and metamorphoses. It will be enough for our purpose to

depict the countenance which the King assumed, and which, from being gay, soon wore a gloomy,

constrained, and irritated expression. He remembered his own residence, and the mean style of luxury which

prevailed there, which comprised only that which was merely useful for the royal wants, without being his

own personal property. The large vases of the Louvre, the old furniture and plate of Henry II, of Francis I, of

Louis XI, were merely historical monuments, they were nothing but specimens of art, relics left by his

predecessors; while with Fouquet the value of the article was as much in the workmanship as in the article

itself. Fouquet ate from a gold service, which artists in his own employ had modelled and cast for him.

Fouquet drank wines of which the King of France did not even know the name, and drank them out of goblets

What, too, could be said of the apartments, the hangings, the pictures, the servants and officers of every

description, in Fouquet's household? What could be said of the mode of service in which etiquette was

replaced by order, stiff formality by personal unrestrained comfort, and the happiness and contentment of the

guest became the supreme law of all who obeyed the host? The swarm of busily engaged persons moving

about noiselessly; the multitude of guests, who were, however, even less numerous than the servants who

waited on them; the myriads of exquisitely prepared dishes, of gold and silver vases; the floods of dazzling

light; the masses of unknown flowers, of which the hothouses had been despoiled, redundant with the

luxuriance of unequalled beauty, the harmony of all, which indeed was no more than the prelude of the

promised fete, charmed all the guests, who testified their admiration over and over again, not by voice or

gesture, but by deep silence and rapt attention, those two languages of the courtier which acknowledge the

As for the King, his eyes filled with tears; he dared not look at the Queen. Anne of Austria, whose pride, as it

ever had been, was superior to that of any creature breathing, overwhelmed her host by the contempt with

which she treated everything handed to her. The young Queen, kindhearted by nature and curious by

disposition, praised Fouquet, ate with an exceedingly good appetite, and asked the names of the different

fruits which were placed upon the table. Fouquet replied that he did not know their names. The fruits came

from his own stores; he had often cultivated them himself, having an intimate acquaintance with the

cultivation of exotic fruits and plants. The King felt and appreciated the delicacy of the reply, but was only

more humiliated at it; he thought that the Queen was a little too familiar in her manners, and that Anne of

Austria resembled Juno a little too much; his chief anxiety, however, was that he might remain cold and

distant in his behavior, bordering slightly on the limits of extreme disdain or of simple admiration.

Fouquet had foreseen all that; he was, in fact, one of those men who foresee everything. The King had

expressly declared that so long as he remained under Fouquet's roof he did not wish his own different repasts

to be served in accordance with the usual etiquette, and that he would consequently dine with the rest of the

company; but by the thoughtful attention of the superintendent the King's dinner was served up separately, if

one may so express it, in the middle of the general table. The dinner, wonderful in every respect, from the

dishes of which it was composed, comprised everything the King liked, and which he generally preferred to

anything else. Louis had no excuse he, indeed, who had the keenest appetite in his kingdom for saying that

he was not hungry. Fouquet even did better still: he indeed, in obedience to the King's expressed desire,

seated himself at the table, but as soon as the soups were served, he rose and personally waited on the King,

while Madame Fouquet stood behind the QueenMother's armchair. The disdain of Juno and the sulky fits

of temper of Jupiter could not resist this exhibition of kindly feeling and polite attention. The Queen ate a

biscuit dipped in a glass of SanLucar wine; and the King ate of everything, saying to Fouquet, "It is

impossible, Monsieur the Superintendent, to dine better anywhere." Whereupon the whole court began, on all

sides, to devour the dishes spread before them, with such enthusiasm that it looked like a cloud of Egyptian

As soon, however, as his hunger was appeased, the King became dull and gloomy again; the more so in

proportion to the satisfaction he fancied he had manifested, and particularly on account of the deferential

manner which his courtiers had shown towards Fouquet. D'Artagnan, who ate a good deal and drank but

little, without allowing it to be noticed, did not lose a single opportunity, but made a great number of

When the supper was finished, the King expressed a wish not to lose the promenade. The park was

illuminated; the moon, too, as if she had placed herself at the orders of the Lord of Vaux, silvered the trees

and lakes with her bright phosphoric light. The air was soft and balmy; the gravelled walks through the

thickly set avenues yielded luxuriously to the feet. The fete was complete in every respect; for the King,

having met La Valliere in one of the winding paths of the wood, was able to press her by the hand and say, "I

love you," without any one overhearing him, except M. d'Artagnan who followed, and M. Fouquet who

The night of enchantments stole on. The King having requested to be shown to his room, there was

immediately a movement in every direction. The Queens passed to their own apartments, accompanied by the

music of theorbos and flutes. The King found his musketeers awaiting him on the grand flight of steps; for

Fouquet had brought them on from Melun, and had invited them to supper. D'Artagnan's suspicions at once

disappeared. He was weary; he had supped well, and wished, for once in his life, thoroughly to enjoy a fete

given by a man who was in every sense of the word a king. "M. Fouquet," he said, "is the man for me.

The King was conducted with the greatest ceremony to the chamber of Morpheus, of which we owe some

slight description to our readers. It was the handsomest and the largest in the palace. Lebrun had painted on

the vaulted ceiling the happy as well as disagreeable dreams with which Morpheus affects kings as well as

other men: with everything lovely to which sleep gives birth, its perfumes, its flowers and nectar, the wild

voluptuousness or deep repose of the senses, had the painter enriched his frescos. It was a composition as

soft and pleasing in one part as dark and terrible in another. The poisoned chalice; the glittering dagger

suspended over the head of the sleeper; wizards and phantoms with hideous masks, those dim shadows more

terrific than the brightness of flame or the blackness of night, these he had made the companions of his more

No sooner had the King entered the room than a cold shiver seemed to pass through him; and when Fouquet

"No; I have to talk with a few persons first," said the King. "Will you have the goodness to summon M.

D'ARTAGNAN had lost no time; in fact, he was not in the habit of doing so. After having inquired for

Aramis, he had looked for him in every direction until he had succeeded in finding him. Now, no sooner had

the King entered Vaux than Aramis had retired to his own room, meditating doubtless some new piece of

gallant attention for his Majesty's amusement. D'Artagnan desired the servants to announce him, and found

on the second story, in a beautiful room called the blue room on account of the color of its hangings, the

Bishop of Vannes in company with Porthos and several of the modern Epicureans. Aramis came forward to

embrace his friend, and offered him the best seat. As it was after a while generally remarked among those

present that the musketeer was reserved, apparently wishing for an opportunity to converse privately with

Aramis, the Epicureans took their leave. Porthos, however, did not stir; having dined exceedingly well, he

was fast asleep in his armchair, and the freedom of conversation therefore was not interrupted by a third

person. Porthos had a deep, harmonious snore; and people might talk in the midst of its loud bass without fear

D'Artagnan felt that he was called upon to open the conversation. The encounter he had come to seek would

be rough; so he delicately approached the subject. "Well, and so we have come to Vaux," he said.

"I am told that the King began by being very distant in his manner toward M. Fouquet, but that his Majesty

"No; I was engaged with those gentlemen who have just left the room about the theatrical performances and

"You know I am a friend of all kinds of amusement where the exercise of the imagination is required; I have

"I have forgotten them; but I am delighted to read the verses of others, when those others are known by the

"No; tell me what it was, for I should never be able to guess it, you have so many."

Aramis breathed again, and smiled. "Ah! you are like all the rest, jealous," he said. "I would wager that it

D'Artagnan, in order to throw Aramis off his guard, related Colbert's misadventures with regard to the vin de

"When I think, too," added the bishop, "that that fellow will be your minister within four months, and that

"True, true," said d'Artagnan, as he pretended to become sad and full of reflection; and then, a moment after,

"Why does he give these fetes, then?" said the musketeer, in a tone so full of thoughtful consideration, so

natural, that the bishop was for the moment deceived by it. "Why did you not dissuade him from it?"

The latter part of the sentence was just a little too much, and Aramis's former suspicions were again aroused.

"Do you not? Have you not remarked M. Colbert's daily increasing antagonism, and that he is doing his

"What likelihood is there that the King would join a party formed against a man who will have spent

"True, true," said d'Artagnan slowly, hardly convinced, yet curious to broach another phase of the

conversation. "There are follies and follies," he resumed; "and I do not like those you are committing."

"As for the banquet, the ball, the concert, the theatricals, the tournaments, the cascades, the fireworks, the

illuminations, and the presents, these are all well and good, I grant; but why were not these expenses

"You are quite right. I told M. Fouquet that myself. He replied, that if he were rich enough he would offer the

King a chateau new from the vanes at the top of the house to the very cellar, completely new inside and out;

and that as soon as the King had left, he would burn the whole building and its contents, in order that it might

"I told him so, and he then added this: 'Whoever advises me to spare expense, I shall look upon as my

"Yes, for which you procured some samples at Percerin's." D'Artagnan paused. The shaft was discharged, and

D'Artagnan went up to his friend, took hold of both his hands, and looking him full in the eyes said, "Aramis,

"Very good. One favor, then. Why did you take some samples of the King's costumes at Percerin's?"

"Come with me and ask poor Lebrun, who has been working upon them for the last two days and two nights."

"Be a little considerate for me. Tell me the exact truth; you would not like anything disagreeable to happen to

"My dear friend, you are becoming quite incomprehensible. What devil of a suspicion have you, then?"

"Do you believe in my instincts? Formerly you had faith in them. Well, then, an instinct tells me that you

"Indeed, d'Artagnan, you cause me the greatest pain. Is it likely, if I have any project in hand that I ought to

keep secret from you, I shall tell you about it? If I had one that I ought to reveal to you, I should have already

"No, Aramis, no. There are certain projects which are never revealed until the favorable opportunity arrives."

"In that case, my dear fellow," returned the bishop, laughing, "the only thing now is, that the 'opportunity' has

D'Artagnan shook his head with a sorrowful expression. "Oh, friendship, friendship!" he said, "what an idle

word! Here is a man who, if I were but to ask it, would suffer himself to be cut in pieces for my sake."

"And this man, who would shed every drop of blood in his veins for me, will not open the smallest corner of

his heart. Friendship, I repeat, is nothing but a shadow and a delusion, like everything else that shines in this

"It is not thus you should speak of our friendship," replied the bishop, in a firm, assured voice; "for ours is not

"Look at us, Aramis! We are three out of the four. You are deceiving me, I suspect you, and Porthos sleeps;

"I can only tell you one thing, d'Artagnan, and I swear it on the Bible: I love you just as much as formerly. If

I ever distrust you, it is on account of others, and not on account of either of us. In everything I may do and

"If I am not mistaken, Aramis, these words of yours, at the moment you pronounce them, are full of generous

"You are conspiring against M. Colbert. If that be all, mordioux! tell me so at once. I have the instrument,

Aramis could not restrain a smile of disdain which passed across his noble features. "And supposing that I

"No, no; that would be too trifling a matter for you to take in hand, and it was not on that account you asked

Percerin for those samples of the King's costumes. Oh, Aramis, we are not enemies, we are brothers! Tell me

what you wish to undertake, and, upon the word of d'Artagnan, if I cannot help you, I will swear to remain

"Aramis, a voice speaks within me, and seems to enlighten my darkness; it is a voice which has never yet

"Aramis, I will do more than help you, I will do more than remain neutral, I will save you."

"Well, let us understand each other. I do not see what any one can do to a legitimate king as ours is, if he does

not assassinate him." D'Artagnan did not say a word. "Besides, you have your guards and your musketeers

"You are not in M. Fouquet's house, but in your own. You have at the present moment M. Colbert, who

counsels the King against M. Fouquet all which perhaps you would wish to advise if I were not on his side."

"A friend's word is the truth itself. If I think of touching, even with one finger, the son of Anne of Austria, the

true King of this realm of France; if I have not the firm intention of prostrating myself before his throne; if,

according to my wishes, tomorrow here at Vaux will not be the most glorious day my King ever enjoyed,

may Heaven's lightning blast me where I stand!" Aramis had pronounced these words with his face turned

towards the alcove of his bedroom, where d'Artagnan, seated with his back towards the alcove, could not

suspect that any one was lying concealed. The earnestness of his words, the studied slowness with which he

pronounced them, the solemnity of his oath, gave the musketeer the most complete satisfaction. He took hold

of both Aramis's hands, and shook them cordially. Aramis had endured reproaches without turning pale; he

blushed as he listened to words of praise. D'Artagnan, deceived, did him honor; but d'Artagnan, trustful and

reliant, made him feel ashamed. "Are you going away?" he said, as he embraced his friend in order to conceal

"Very good!" said the musketeer, from whom this separation of the two associates removed his last suspicion;

and he touched Porthos roughly on the shoulder. The latter replied by a yawn. "Come!" said d'Artagnan.

"What! d'Artagnan, my dear fellow, is that you? What a lucky chance! Oh, yes, true; I am at the fete at

"Hush!" said Aramis. "You are walking so heavily that you will make the flooring give way."

"And I did not choose it for a fencingroom, I assure you," added the bishop. "The ceiling of the King's room

has all the sweetness and calm delights of sleep. Do not forget, therefore, that my flooring is merely the

covering of his ceiling. Goodnight, my friends! In ten minutes I shall be fast asleep"; and Aramis

As soon as they were outside, Aramis bolted the door hurriedly, closed up the chinks of the windows, and

Philippe made his appearance from the alcove, pushing aside a sliding panel placed behind the bed. "M.

"He is very devoted to me," replied Philippe, laying a stress upon the personal pronoun.

"As faithful as a dog; but he bites sometimes. If d'Artagnan does not recognize you before the other has

disappeared, rely upon d'Artagnan to the end of the world; for in that case, if he has seen nothing, he will

keep his fidelity. If he sees, when it is too late, he is a Gascon, and will never admit that he has been

"You will go and take up your post at our place of observation, and watch the moment of the King's retiring

"Sit down on this foldingchair! I am going to push aside a portion of the flooring; you will look through the

opening, which answers to one of the false windows made in the dome of the King's apartment. Can you

"Colbert sit down in the King's presence!" exclaimed Aramis; "it is impossible."

Aramis looked through the opening in the flooring. "Yes," he said, "Colbert himself! Oh, Monseigneur! what

We have seen that Louis XIV had sent for Colbert, and that Colbert had arrived. The conversation began

between them by the King's according to him one of the highest favors that he had ever given, it is true that

The intendant, overcome with delight, for he had feared he should be dismissed, refused this unprecedented

"Let us listen, then"; and the future King and the future pope listened eagerly to the simple mortals whom

"Very good; I like that answer. Yes, you knew it, and there was courage in doing it."

"I ran the risk of displeasing your Majesty, but I risked also concealing what were your true interests from

"I was, Sire, even if it were of nothing more than an indigestion," said Colbert; "for one does not give his

King such banquets as that of today, except it be to stifle him under the weight of good living."

Colbert awaited the effect of this coarse jest upon the King; and Louis XIV, who was the vainest and the most

fastidiously delicate man in his kingdom, forgave Colbert his pleasantry. "The truth is," he said, "that M.

Fouquet has given me too good a meal. Tell me, Colbert, where does he get all the money required for this

"The living are witnesses of M. Fouquet's wealth, they admire and applaud the result produced; but the

"You have something to say to me more confidentially, I perceive; do not be afraid, we are quite alone."

"I am never afraid of anything under the shelter of my own conscience and under the protection of your

"Ah!" murmured Aramis in the Prince's ear, who close beside him listened without losing a syllable, "since

you are placed here, Monseigneur, in order to learn the vocation of a king, listen to a piece of infamy truly

royal. You are about to be a witness of one of these scenes which God alone, or rather which the devil alone,

can conceive and execute. Listen attentively, you will find your advantage in it."

The Prince redoubled his attention, and saw Louis XIV take from Colbert's hand a letter which the latter held

"Your Majesty has an excellent memory," replied Colbert, bowing; "it is an immense advantage for a king

The King read Mazarin's letter; but as its contents are already known to the reader, in consequence of the

misunderstanding between Madame de Chevreuse and Aramis, nothing further would be learned if we stated

"Your Majesty has not yet acquired the habit of going through the public accounts."

"Yes. Well, and these thirteen millions are wanting to balance the total of the accounts? That is what I do not

"And this letter of M. Mazarin indicates the employment of that sum, and the name of the person with whom

"Yes; and the result is, then, that M. Fouquet has not yet restored the thirteen millions."

"Well, Sire, consequently, inasmuch as M. Fouquet has not given back the thirteen millions, he must have

appropriated them to his own purposes; and with those thirteen millions one could incur four times and a

fraction as much expense and display as your Majesty was able to do at Fontainebleau, where we spent only

For a blunderer, the souvenir he had evoked was a very skilfully contrived piece of baseness, for in

remembering his own fete the King, thanks to a word of Fouquet, had for the first time perceived its

inferiority. Colbert received at Vaux what Fouquet had given him at Fontainebleau; and as a good financier,

he returned it with the best possible interest. Having once disposed the King's mind in that way, Colbert had

nothing further to accomplish. He perceived it; the King had become gloomy. Colbert awaited the first word

from the King's lips with as much impatience as Philippe and Aramis did from their place of observation.

"Are you aware what is the natural consequence of all this, M. Colbert?" said the King, after a few moments'

"Well, then, the fact of the appropriation of the thirteen millions, if it can be proved"

"Were we not under M. Fouquet's roof, you were going to say, perhaps," replied the King, with something of

"The King is in his own palace wherever he may be, and especially in houses for which his own money has

"I think," said Philippe, in a low tone to Aramis, "that the architect who constructed this dome ought,

anticipating what use could be made of it, so to have contrived that it might easily be made to fall on the

"I thought so, too," replied Aramis; "but M. Colbert is so very near the King at this moment."

"Of which your younger brother would reap all the advantage, Monseigneur. But, stay! let us keep quiet and

Louis XIV at last raised his eyes, and finding Colbert attentively waiting for his next remark, said, hastily

changing the conversation, "M. Colbert, I perceive it is getting very late, and I shall now retire to bed."

"Very good, Sire," returned Colbert, greatly incensed, although he restrained himself in the presence of the

The King made a gesture of adieu, and Colbert withdrew with a respectful bow. "My attendants!" cried the

"A moment longer," said Aramis to him, with his accustomed gentleness of manner. "What has just now

taken place is only a detail, and tomorrow we shall have no occasion to think anything more about it; but the

ceremony of the King's retiring to rest, the etiquette observed in undressing the King, that, indeed, is

HISTORY Will tell us, or rather history has told us, of the various events of the following day, of the

splendid fetes given by the superintendent to his sovereign. There was nothing but amusement and delight

throughout the whole of the following day: there was a promenade, a banquet, a comedy, in which to his

great amazement Porthos recognized "M. Coquelin de Voliere" as one of the actors, in the piece called "Les

Full of preoccupation after the scene of the previous evening, and hardly recovered from the effects of the

poison which Colbert had then administered to him, the King during the whole of the day, so brilliant in its

effects, so full of unexpected and startling novelties, in which all the wonders of the "Arabian Nights'

Entertainments" seemed to be reproduced for his especial amusement, the King, we say, showed himself

cold, reserved, and taciturn. Nothing could smooth the frowns upon his face; every one who observed him

noticed that a deep feeling of resentment, of remote origin, increased by slow degrees, as the source becomes

a river, thanks to the thousand threads of water which increase its body, was keenly alive in the depths of the

King's heart. Towards the middle of the day only did he begin to resume a little serenity of manner, by that

time he had, in all probability, made up his mind. Aramis, who followed him step by step in his thoughts as in

This time Colbert seemed to walk in concert with the Bishop of Vannes; and had he received for every

annoyance which he inflicted on the King a word of direction from Aramis, he could not have done better.

During the whole of the day the King, who in all probability wished to free himself from some of the

thoughts which disturbed his mind, seemed to seek La Valliere's society as actively as he sought to avoid that

The evening came. The King had expressed a wish not to walk in the park until after cards in the evening. In

the interval between supper and the promenade, cards and dice were introduced. The King won a thousand

pistoles, and having won them put them in his pocket, and then rose, saying, "And now, gentlemen, to the

park." He found the ladies of the court already there. The King, we have before observed, had won a

thousand pistoles, and had put them in his pocket. But M. Fouquet had somehow contrived to lose ten

thousand; so that among the courtiers there was still left a hundred and ninety thousand livres' profit to

divide, a circumstance which made the countenances of the courtiers and the officers of the King's

household the most joyous in the world. It was not the same, however, with the King's face; for

notwithstanding his success at play, to which he was by no means insensible, there still remained a slight

Colbert was waiting for him at the corner of one of the avenues; he was most probably waiting there by

appointment, as Louis XIV, who had avoided him or who had seemed to avoid him, suddenly made him a

But La Valliere, too, had observed the King's gloomy aspect and kindling glances. She had remarked this:

and as nothing which lay hidden or smouldering in his heart was impenetrable to her affection, she

understood that this repressed wrath menaced some one. She put herself upon the road of vengeance, like an

angel of mercy. Overcome by sadness, nervously agitated, deeply distressed at having been so long separated

from her lover, disturbed at the sight of that emotion which she had divined, she presented herself to the King

with an embarrassed aspect, which in his evil mood the King interpreted unfavorably. Then, as they were

alone, or nearly alone, inasmuch as Colbert, as soon as he perceived the young girl approaching, had

stopped and drawn back a dozen paces, the King advanced towards La Valliere and took her by the hand.

"Mademoiselle," he said to her, "should I be guilty of an indiscretion if I were to inquire if you are

indisposed? You seem to breathe as if you were distressed, and your eyes are filled with tears."

"Oh, Sire, if I am distressed, and if my eyes are full of tears, it is for the sadness of your Majesty."

"My sadness? You are mistaken, Mademoiselle; no, it is not sadness I experience."

"I mean, Mademoiselle, that wherever I may happen to be, no one else ought to be the master. Well, then,

look round you on every side, and judge whether I am not eclipsed I, the King of France before the king of

these wide domains. Oh!" he continued, clinching his hands and teeth, "when I think that this king"

"That this king is a faithless, unworthy servant, who becomes proud with my stolen property And therefore

am I about to change this impudent minister's fete into a sorrow and mourning of which the nymph of Vaux,

"Well, Mademoiselle, are you about to take M. Fouquet's part?" said Louis, impatiently.

"No, Sire; I will only ask whether you are well informed. Your Majesty has more than once learned the value

Louis XIV made a sign for Colbert to approach. "Speak, M. Colbert," said the young King; "for I almost

believe that Mademoiselle de la Valliere has need of your assurance before she can put any faith in the King's

word. Tell Mademoiselle what M. Fouquet has done; and you, Mademoiselle, will perhaps have the kindness

Why did Louis XIV insist upon it in such a manner? For a very simple reason, his heart was not at rest; his

mind was not thoroughly convinced; he imagined there was some dark, hidden, tortuous intrigue concealed

beneath these thirteen million livres; and he wished that the pure heart of La Valliere, which had revolted at

the idea of a theft or robbery, should approve, even were it only by a single word, the resolution which he had

"Speak, Monsieur," said La Valliere to Colbert, who had advanced; "speak, since the King wishes me to

"Oh, not very heinous, Mademoiselle," he returned, "a simple abuse of confidence."

"Speak, speak, Colbert; and when you shall have related it, leave us, and go and inform M. d'Artagnan that I

"M. d'Artagnan, Sire!" exclaimed La Valliere; "but why send for M. d'Artagnan? I entreat you to tell me."

"Pardieu! in order to arrest this haughty Titan, who, true to his motto, threatens to scale my heaven."

Colbert began to chuckle silently. The King turned round at the sound of this suppressed mirth.

"Sire," said La Valliere, "it is not M. Fouquet I am defending; it is yourself."

"Dishonor myself?" murmured the King, turning pale with anger. "In truth, Mademoiselle, you put a strange

"I put eagerness not into what I say, but into serving your Majesty," replied the noblehearted girl; "in that I

Colbert seemed inclined to grumble. La Valliere, that gentle lamb, turned round upon him, and with a glance

like lightning imposed silence upon him. "Monsieur," she said, "when the King acts well, if in doing so he

does either myself or those who belong to me an injury, I have nothing to say; but were the King to confer a

"But it appears to me, Mademoiselle," Colbert ventured to say, "that I too love the King."

"Yes, Monsieur, we both love him, but each in a different manner," replied La Valliere, with such an accent

that the heart of the young King was powerfully affected by it. "I love him so deeply that the whole world is

aware of it, so purely that the King himself does not doubt my love. He is my King and my master; I am the

humblest of his servants. But he who touches his honor touches my life. Now, I repeat that they dishonor the

Colbert hung down his head, for he felt that the King had abandoned him. However, as he bent his head, he

"Do not say it, then, Monsieur; for I would not listen to it. Besides, what could you have to tell me? That M.

Fouquet has been guilty of certain crimes? I know he has, because the King has said so; and from the moment

the King said, 'I believe,' I have no occasion for other lips to say, 'I affirm.' But were M. Fouquet the vilest of

men, I should say aloud, 'M. Fouquet's person is sacred to the King because he is the King's host. Were his

house a den of thieves, were Vaux a cave of coiners or robbers, his home is sacred, his palace is inviolable,

since his wife is living in it; and it is an asylum which even executioners would not dare to violate.'"

La Valliere paused, and was silent. In spite of himself, the King could not but admire her; he was

overpowered by the passionate energy of her voice, by the nobleness of the cause she advocated. Colbert

yielded, overcome by the inequality of the struggle. At last the King breathed again more freely, shook his

head, and held out his hand to La Valliere. "Mademoiselle," he said gently, "why do you decide against me?

Do you know what this wretched fellow will do, if I give him time to breathe again?"

"Well, Monsieur, it will always remain on record, to the King's eternal honor, that he allowed M. Fouquet to

flee; and the more guilty he may have been, the greater will the King's honor and glory appear, when

"I am lost!" thought Colbert; then suddenly his face brightened up again. "Oh, no, no, not yet!" he said to

And while the King, protected from observation by the thick covert of an enormous lime, pressed La Valliere

to his breast with all the ardor of ineffable affection, Colbert tranquilly looked among the papers in his

pocketbook, and drew out of it a paper folded in the form of a letter, slightly yellow, perhaps, but which must

have been very precious, since the intendant smiled as he looked at it; he then bent a look full of hatred upon

the charming group which the young girl and the King formed together, a group which was revealed for a

Louis noticed the light reflected upon La Valliere's white dress. "Leave me, Louise," he said, "some one is

"Mademoiselle, Mademoiselle, some one is coming," cried Colbert, to expedite the young girl's departure.

Louise disappeared rapidly among the trees; and then, as the King, who had been on his knees before the

young girl, was rising from his humble posture, Colbert exclaimed, "Ah! Mademoiselle de la Valliere has let

"The King stooped down immediately, and picked up the letter, crumpling it in his hand as he did so; and at

the same moment the torches arrived, inundating the darkness of the scene with a flood of light as bright as

THE torches to which we have just referred, the eager attention which every one displayed, and the new

ovation paid to the King by Fouquet arrived in time to suspend the effect of a resolution which La Valliere

had already considerably shaken in Louis XIV's heart. He looked at Fouquet with a feeling almost of

gratitude for having given La Valliere an opportunity of showing herself so generously disposed, so powerful

in the influence she exercised over his heart. The moment of the last and greatest display had arrived. Hardly

had Fouquet conducted the King towards the chateau, when a mass of fire burst from the dome of Vaux with

a prodigious uproar, pouring a flood of dazzling light on every side, and illumining the remotest corners of

the gardens. The fireworks began. Colbert, at twenty paces from the King, who was surrounded and feted by

the masters of Vaux, seemed, by the obstinate persistence of his gloomy thoughts, to do his utmost to recall

Louis's attention, which the magnificence of the spectacle was already, in his opinion, too easily diverting.

Suddenly, just as Louis was on the point of holding his hand out to Fouquet, he perceived in it the paper

which, as he believed, La Valliere had dropped at his feet as she hurried away. The still stronger magnet of

love drew the young King's attention to the souvenir of his idol; and by the brilliant light, which increased

momentarily in beauty, and drew forth from the neighboring villages loud exclamations of admiration, the

King read the letter, which he supposed was a loving and tender epistle that La Valliere had destined for him.

But as he read it, a deathlike pallor stole over his face, and an expression of deepseated wrath, illumined by

the manycolored fires, produced a terrible spectacle, which every one would have shuddered at, could they

only have read his heart, which was torn by the most stormy passions. For him there was no more truce with

jealousy and rage. From the moment when the dark truth was revealed to him, every gentler feeling

disappeared, piety, kindness, the religion of hospitality. In the bitter pang which wrung his heart, still too

weak to hide his sufferings, he was almost on the point of uttering a cry of alarm, and calling his guards to

gather round him. This letter which Colbert had thrown down at the King's feet, the reader has doubtless

guessed, was the same that had disappeared with the porter Toby, at Fontainebleau, after the attempt which

Fouquet had made upon La Valliere's heart. Fouquet saw the King's pallor, and was far from guessing the

evil. Colbert saw the King's anger, and rejoiced inwardly at the approach of the storm.

Fouquet's voice drew the young King from his wrathful reverie. "What is the matter, Sire?" inquired the

"I am suffering, and have already told you so, Monsieur; but it is nothing." The King, without waiting for the

termination of the fireworks, turned towards the chateau. Fouquet accompanied him; and the whole court

followed them, leaving the remains of the fireworks burning for their own amusement. The superintendent

endeavored again to question Louis XIV, but obtained no reply. He imagined that there had been some

misunderstanding between Louis and La Valliere in the park, which had resulted in a slight quarrel; and that

the King, who was not ordinarily sulky by disposition, but completely absorbed by his passion for La

Valliere, had taken a dislike to every one because his mistress had shown herself offended with him. This

idea was sufficient to reassure him; he had even a friendly and kindly smile for the young King, when the

latter wished him goodnight. This, however, was not all the King had to submit to; he was obliged to

undergo the usual ceremony, which on that evening was marked by the closest adherence to the strictest

etiquette. The next day was the one fixed for the departure; it was but proper that the guests should thank

their host, and should show him a little attention in return for the expenditure of his twelve millions. The only

remark approaching to amiability which the King could find to say to Fouquet, as he took leave of him, was

in these words: "M. Fouquet, you shall hear from me. Be good enough to desire M. d'Artagnan to come

The blood of Louis XIV, who had so profoundly dissimulated his feelings, boiled in his veins; he was

perfectly ready to get Fouquet's throat cut, as his predecessor had caused the assassination of the Marechal

d'Ancre. He concealed, beneath one of those royal smiles which are the lightning flashes to the thunderbolts

of the State, the terrible resolution he had formed. Fouquet took the King's hand, and kissed it. Louis

shuddered throughout his whole frame, but allowed Fouquet to touch his hand with his lips.

Five minutes afterwards, d'Artagnan, to whom the royal order had been communicated, entered Louis XIV's

apartment. Aramis and Philippe were in theirs, still eagerly attentive and still listening. The King did not even

give the captain of the Musketeers time to approach his armchair, but ran forward to meet him. "Take care,"

"Very good, Sire," replied the captain, whose glance had for a long time past analyzed the ravages on the

King's countenance. He gave the necessary order at the door; but returning to the King he said, "Is there some

"How many men have you here?" said the King, without making other reply to the question addressed to him.

"How many men have you, I say?" repeated the King, stamping upon the ground with his foot.

"Are you going to tell me that it is impossible?" exclaimed the King, with cold and vindictive passion.

"I never said that anything is impossible," replied d'Artagnan, wounded to the quick.

D'Artagnan turned on his heel, and made his way towards the door, it was but a short distance, and he

cleared it in half a dozen paces. When he reached it he suddenly paused, and said, "Your Majesty will forgive

"For what purpose? and since when has the King's word been insufficient for you?"

"Because the word of a King when it springs from a feeling of anger may possibly change when the feeling

"Oh, I always have thoughts; and thoughts which, unfortunately, others have not!" d'Artagnan replied

The King, in the tempest of his wrath, hesitated, and drew back in the face of that man, just as a horse

crouches on his haunches under the strong hand of a rider. "What is your thought?" he exclaimed.

"This, Sire," replied d'Artagnan: you cause a man to be arrested when you are still under his roof; and passion

is alone the cause of that. When your anger shall have passed away you will regret what you have done; and

then I wish to be in a position to show you your signature. If that mends nothing, it will at least show us that

"Wrong to lose his temper!" shouted the King, with frenzy. "Did not my father, my grandfather too, before

"The King your father and the King your grandfather never lost their temper except in the privacy of their

"That is a flattering phrase which cannot proceed from any one but M. Colbert; but it happens not to be the

truth. The King is at home in every man's house when he has driven its owner out of it."

"Can it be possible?" said d'Artagnan. "Here is a man who is ruining himself in order to please you, and you

wish to have him arrested! Mordioux! Sire, if my name were Fouquet, and any one treated me in that manner,

I would swallow at a single gulp ten pieces of fireworks, and I would set fire to them and blow myself and

everybody else up to the sky. But it is all the same; it is your wish, and it shall be done."

"Do you suppose I am going to take a whole host to help me? To arrest M. Fouquet is so easy that a child

might do it! It is like drinking a glass of bitters: one makes an ugly face, and that is all."

"He! not at all likely. Defend himself when such extreme harshness as you are going to practise makes him

king and martyr! Nay, I am sure that if he has a million livres left, which I very much doubt, he would be

willing enough to give it in order to have such a termination as this. But what does that matter? It shall be

"Because nothing is easier than to go up to M. Fouquet in the midst of a thousand enthusiastic guests who

surround him, and say 'In the King's name, I arrest you.' But to go up to him, to turn him first one way and

then another, to drive him up into one of the corners of the chessboard in such a way that he cannot escape, to

take him away from his guests and keep him a prisoner for you without one of them, alas! having heard

anything about it, that, indeed, is a real difficulty, the greatest of all, in truth; and I hardly see how it is to

"You had better say it is impossible, and you will have finished much sooner. Mon Dieu! I seem to be

"Take care of M. Fouquet until I shall have made up my mind by tomorrow morning."

"And return, when I rise in the morning, for further orders; and now leave me to myself."

"You do not even want M. Colbert, then?" said the musketeer, firing this last shot as he was leaving the room.

The King started. With his whole mind fixed on the thought of revenge, he had forgotten the cause and

D'Artagnan quitted the room. The King closed the door with his own hands, and began to walk up and down

his apartment at a furious pace, like a wounded bull in an arena who drags after him the colored streamers

and iron darts. At last he began to take comfort in the expression of his violent feelings.

"Miserable wretch that he is! not only does he squander my finances, but with his illgotten plunder he

corrupts secretaries, friends, generals, artists, and all; he even takes from me my mistress. Ah, that is the

reason why that perfidious girl so boldly took his part! Gratitude! and who can tell whether it was not a

He gave himself up for a moment to his bitter reflections. "A satyr!" he thought, with that abhorrent hate with

which young men regard those more advanced in life, who still think of love. "A faun who pursues a course

of gallantry and has never met resistance; a man for silly women, who lavishes his gold and jewels in every

direction, and who retains his staff of painters in order to take the portraits of his mistresses in the costume of

goddesses!" The King trembled with passion as he continued: "He pollutes and profanes everything that

belongs to me; he destroys everything that is mine; he will be my death at last! That man is too much for me;

he is my mortal enemy, and he shall fall! I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!" and as he pronounced these

words, he struck the arm of the chair in which he was sitting, violently over and over again, and then rose,

like one in an epileptic fit. "Tomorrow! tomorrow! oh, happy day!" he murmured; "when the sun rises, no

other rival will that bright orb have but me. That man shall fall so low that when people look at the utter ruin

which my anger shall have wrought, they will be forced to confess, at least, that I am indeed greater than he."

The King, who was incapable of mastering his emotions any longer, knocked over with a blow of his fist a

small table placed close to his bedside, and in the bitterness of feeling from which he was suffering, almost

weeping, and half suffocated by his passion, threw himself on his bed, dressed as he was, and bit the sheets in

the extremity of his emotion, trying there to find at least repose of body. The bed creaked beneath his weight;

and with the exception of a few broken sounds which escaped from his overburdened chest, absolute silence

THE ungovernable fury which took possession of the King at the sight and at the perusal of Fouquet's letter

to La Valliere by degrees subsided into a feeling of painful weariness. Youth, full of health and life, and

requiring that what it loses should be immediately restored, youth knows not those endless, sleepless nights

which realize to the unhappy the fable of the liver of Prometheus, unceasingly renewed. In instances where

the man of middle life in his acquired strength of will and purpose, and the old man in his state of exhaustion

find an incessant renewal of their sorrow, a young man, surprised by the sudden appearance of a misfortune,

weakens himself in sighs and groans and tears, in direct struggles with it, and is thereby far sooner

overthrown by the inflexible enemy with whom he is engaged. Once overthrown, his sufferings cease. Louis

was conquered in a quarter of an hour. Then he ceased to clinch his hands, and to burn with his looks the

invisible objects of his hatred; he ceased to attack with violent imprecations M. Fouquet and La Valliere:

from fury he subsided into despair, and from despair to prostration. After he had thrown himself for a few

minutes to and fro convulsively on his bed, his nerveless arms fell quietly down, his head lay languidly on his

pillow; his limbs, exhausted by his excessive emotions, still trembled occasionally, agitated by slight

muscular contractions; and from his breast only faint and unfrequent sighs still issued.

Morpheus, the tutelary deity of the apartment which bore his name, towards whom Louis raised his eyes,

wearied by his anger and reddened by his tears, showered down upon him copiously the sleepinducing

poppies, so that the King gently closed his eyes and fell asleep. Then it seemed to him, as it often happens in

that first sleep, so light and gentle, which raises the body above the couch, the soul above the earth, it

seemed to him as if the god Morpheus, painted on the ceiling, looked at him with eyes quite human; that

something shone brightly, and moved to and fro in the dome above the sleeper; that the crowd of terrible

dreams, moving off for an instant, left uncovered a human face, with a hand resting against the mouth, and in

an attitude of deep and absorbed meditation. And strange enough, too, this man bore so wonderful a

resemblance to the King himself, that Louis fancied he was looking at his own face reflected in a mirror;

only, that face was saddened by a feeling of the profoundest pity. Then it seemed to him as if the dome

gradually retired, escaping from his gaze, and that the figures and attributes painted by Lebrun became darker

and darker as the distance became more and more remote. A gentle, easy movement, as regular as that by

which a vessel plunges beneath the waves, had succeeded to the immovableness of the bed. Doubtless the

King was dreaming; and in this dream the crown of gold which fastened the curtains together seemed to

recede from his vision, just as the dome, to which it remained suspended, had done; so that the winged genius

which with both its hands supported the crown seemed, though vainly so, to call upon the King, who was fast

The bed still sank. Louis, with his eyes open, could not resist the deception of this cruel hallucination. At last,

as the light of the royal chamber faded away into darkness and gloom, something cold, gloomy, and

inexplicable seemed to infect the air. No paintings, nor gold, nor velvet hangings were visible any longer,

nothing but walls of a dull gray color, which the increasing gloom made darker every moment. And yet the

bed still continued to descend; and after a minute, which seemed in its duration almost an age to the King, it

reached a stratum of air black and still as death, and then it stopped. The King could no longer see the light in

his room, except as from the bottom of a well we can see the light of day. "I am under the influence of a

terrible dream," he thought. "It is time to arouse myself. Come, let us wake up!"

Every one has experienced what the above remark conveys; there is no one who in the midst of a suffocating

nightmare has not said to himself, by the help of that light which still burns in the brain when every human

light is extinguished, "It is nothing but a dream, after all." This was precisely what Louis XIV said to himself.

But when he said, "Let us wake up," he perceived that not only was he already awake, but still more, that he

had his eyes open also. He then looked around him. On his right hand and on his left two armed men stood

silently, each wrapped in a huge cloak, and the face covered with a mask; one of them held a small lamp in

his hand, whose glimmering light revealed the saddest picture a king could look upon.

Louis said to himself that his dream still lasted, and that all he had to do to cause it to disappear was to move

his arms or to say something aloud. He darted from his bed, and found himself upon the damp ground. Then,

addressing himself to the man who held the lamp in his hand, he said, "What is this, Monsieur, and what is

"It is no jest," replied, in a deep voice, the masked figure that held the lantern.

"Do you belong to M. Fouquet?" inquired the King, greatly astonished at his situation.

"It matters very little to whom we belong," said the phantom. "We are your masters; that is sufficient."

The King, more impatient than intimidated, turned to the other masked figure. "If this is a comedy," he said,

"you will tell M. Fouquet that I find it unseemly, and that I desire it should cease."

The second masked person to whom the King had addressed himself was a man of huge stature and vast

"We do not answer you, my good monsieur," said the giant, in a stentorian voice, "because there is nothing to

answer, except that you are the chief facheux, and that M. Coquelin de Voliere forgot to include you in the

"At least, tell me what you want!" exclaimed Louis, folding his arms with a passionate gesture.

Louis looked all round him; but by the light of the lamp which the masked figure raised for the purpose, he

could perceive nothing but the damp walls, which glistened here and there with the slimy traces of the snail.

"If you are obstinate, my dear young friend," replied the taller and stouter of the two, "I will lift you up in my

arms, will roll you up in a cloak, and if you are stifled there, why, so much the worse for you!" and as he said

this he disengaged from beneath the cloak with which he had threatened the King a hand of which Milo of

Crotona would have envied him the possession on the day when he had that unhappy idea of rending his last

The King dreaded violence; for he could well believe that the two men into whose power he had fallen had

not gone so far with any idea of drawing back, and that they would consequently be ready to proceed to

extremities if necessary. He shook his head, and said: "It seems I have fallen into the hands of a couple of

Neither of the men answered a word to this remark. The one who carried the lantern walked first, the King

followed him, while the second masked figure closed the procession. In this manner they passed along a

winding gallery of some length, with as many staircases leading out of it as are to be found in the mysterious

and gloomy palace of Ann Radcliffe. All these windings, throughout which the King heard the sound of

falling water over his head, ended at last in a long corridor closed by an iron door. The figure with the lamp

opened the door with one of the keys he wore suspended at his girdle, where during the whole of the time the

King had heard them rattle. As soon as the door was opened and admitted the air, Louis recognized the balmy

odors which the trees exhale after a hot summer's day. He paused hesitatingly for a moment or two; but his

"Another blow!" said the King, turning towards the one who had just had the audacity to touch his sovereign;

"Try to forget that word," replied the man with the lamp, in a tone which as little admitted of reply as one of

"You deserve to be broken on the wheel for the word you have just made use of," said the giant, as he

extinguished the lamp his companion handed to him; "but the King is too kindhearted."

Louis, at that threat, made so sudden a movement that it seemed as if he meditated flight; but the giant's hand

was placed on his shoulder, and fixed him motionless where he stood. "But tell me, at least, where we are

"Come!" replied the former of the two men, with a kind of respect in his manner, and leading his prisoner

The carriage was completely concealed amid the trees. Two horses, with their feet fettered, were fastened by

"Get in," said the same man, opening the carriage door and letting down the step. The King obeyed, seated

himself at the back of the carriage, the padded door of which was shut and locked immediately upon him and

his guide. As for the giant, he cut the fastenings by which the horses were bound, harnessed them himself,

and mounted on the box of the carriage, which was unoccupied. The carriage set off immediately at a quick

trot, turned into the road to Paris, and in the forest of Senart found a relay of horses fastened to the trees in the

same manner in which the first horses had been, and without a postilion. The man on the box changed the

horses, and continued to follow the road towards Paris with the same rapidity, and entered the city about three

o'clock in the morning. The carriage proceeded along the Faubourg St. Antoine, and after having called out to

the sentinel, "By the King's order!" the driver conducted the horses into the circular enclosure of the Bastille,

looking out upon the courtyard called La Cour du Gouvernement. There the horses drew up, reeking with

With the exception of this voice, which might have been heard at the entrance of the Faubourg St. Antoine,

everything remained as calm in the carriage as in the prison. Ten minutes afterwards, M. de Baisemeaux

appeared in his dressinggown on the threshold of the door. "What is the matter now?" he asked; "and whom

The man with the lantern opened the carriage door, and said two or three words to the one who acted as

driver, who immediately got down from his seat, took up a short musket which he kept under his feet, and

"Fire at once if he speaks!" added, aloud, the man who alighted from the carriage.

With this recommendation, the person who had accompanied the King in the carriage ascended the flight of

steps, at the top of which the governor was awaiting him. "M. d'Herblay!" said the latter.

"A mistake, my dear M. de Baisemeaux," Aramis replied quietly. "It appears that you were right the other

"Tell me what you mean, Monsieur, no, Monseigneur," said the governor, almost suffocated by surprise and

"It is a very simple affair. You remember, dear M. de Baisemeaux, that an order of release was sent to you?"

"Certainly. You will recollect, however, that I did not believe it; that I was unwilling; that you compelled

"Oh, Baisemeaux, my good fellow, what a word to make use of! advised, that was all."

"Advised, yes, advised me to give him up to you; and that you carried him off with you in your carriage."

"Well, my dear M. de Baisemeaux, it was a mistake. It was discovered at the Ministry; so that I now bring

you an order from the King to set at liberty Seldon, that poor devil of a Scotchman, you know."

"Why," said Baisemeaux, "this order is the very same that has already passed through my hands."

"It is the very one I assured you I saw the other evening. Parbleu! I recognize it by the blot of ink."

"I do not know whether it is that; but, at any rate, it is the one I bring you."

"Don't talk such nonsense, my dear Baisemeaux; you talk like a child! Where is the order you received

Baisemeaux ran to his iron chest and took it out. Aramis seized hold of it, coolly tore it in four pieces, held

"Good heavens! what are you doing?" exclaimed Baisemeaux, in an extremity of terror.

"Look at your position a little, my dear governor," said Aramis, with his imperturbable selfpossession, "and

you will see that it is very simple. You no longer possess any order justifying Marchiali's release."

"Far from it, my good fellow, since I have brought Marchiali back to you, and it is just the same as if he had

"And you will hand over to me this Seldon, whose liberation is authorized by this order. In this way you

"But why, at all events, after having taken Marchiali away from me, do you bring him back again?" cried the

"For a friend such as you are," said Aramis, "for so devoted a servant, I have no secrets"; and he put his

mouth close to Baisemeaux's ear, as he said in a low tone of voice, "you know the resemblance between that

"Very good; the very first use that Marchiali made of his liberty was to pretend Can you guess what?"

"To dress himself up in clothes like those of the King, and attempt to play the role of usurper."

"That is the reason why I have brought him back again, my dear friend. He is mad, and lets every one see

"That is very simple; let no one hold any communication with him. You understand that when his peculiar

style of madness came to the King's ears, the King, who had pitied his terrible affliction, and saw how his

kindness of heart had been repaid by such black ingratitude, became perfectly furious; so that now, and

remember this very distinctly, dear M. de Baisemeaux, for it concerns you most closely, so that there is

now, I repeat, sentence of death pronounced against all those who may allow him to communicate with any

one else save me or the King himself. You understand, Baisemeaux, sentence of death!"

"And now go down and conduct this poor devil back to his dungeon again, unless you prefer he should come

Baisemeaux ordered the drums to be beaten and the bell to be rung, as a warning to every one to retire in

order to avoid meeting a mysterious prisoner. Then, when the passages were free, he went to take the prisoner

from the carriage, at whose breast Porthos, faithful to the directions which had been given him, still kept his

musket levelled. "Ah! is that you, miserable wretch?" cried the governor, as soon as he perceived the King.

"Very good, very good!" and immediately, making the King get out of the carriage, he led him, still

accompanied by Porthos, who had not taken off his mask, and Aramis, who again resumed his, up the stairs,

to the second Bertaudiere, and opened the door of the room in which Philippe for six long years had

bemoaned his existence. The King entered the cell without pronouncing a single word; he was pale and

Baisemeaux shut the door upon him, turned the key twice in the lock, and then returned to Aramis. "It is quite

true," he said in a low tone, "that he has a rather strong resemblance to the King, but still less so than you

"So that," said Aramis, "you would not have been deceived by the substitution of the one for the other."

"What a question!" "You are a most valuable fellow, Baisemeaux," said Aramis; "and now, set Seldon free!"

"Well, go off to your affairs! I shall go away to mine. But it is quite understood, is it not?"

"That no one is to enter the prisoner's cell, except with an order from the King, an order which I will myself

"That is understood. Adieu, Monseigneur!" Aramis returned to his companion. "Now, Porthos, my good

"A man is light when he has faithfully served his King, and in serving him saved his country," said Porthos.

"The horses will have nothing to draw. Let us be off!" and the carriage, lightened of a prisoner who in fact

seemed to Aramis very heavy, passed across the drawbridge of the Bastille, which was raised again

SUFFERING in human life is proportioned to human strength. We will not pretend to say that God always

apportions to a man's capability of endurance the anguish he permits him to suffer; such, indeed, would not

be exact, since God permits the existence of death, which is sometimes the only refuge open to those who are

too closely pressed, too bitterly afflicted, so far as the body is concerned. Suffering is proportioned to

strength in this sense, that the weak suffer more, where the trial is the same, than the strong. And what are

the elementary principles which compose human strength? Are they not more than anything else exercise,

habit, experience? We shall not even take the trouble to demonstrate that; it is an axiom in morals as in

When the young King, stupefied, crushed, found himself led to a cell in the Bastille, he fancied at first that

death is like sleep, and has its dreams; that the bed had broken through the flooring of his room at Vaux; that

death had resulted; and that, still carrying out his dream, Louis XIV, now dead, was dreaming of those

horrors, impossible to realize in life, which are termed dethronement, imprisonment, and degradation of a

King allpowerful but yesterday. To be a spectator, as palpable phantom, of his own wretched suffering; to

float in an incomprehensible mystery between resemblance and reality; to hear everything, to see everything,

without confusing the details of that agony, "was it not," said the King to himself, "a torture the more

"Is this what is termed eternity, hell?" Louis murmured at the moment the door closed upon him, shut by

Baisemeaux himself. He did not even look around him; and in that chamber, leaning with his back against the

wall, he allowed himself to be carried away by the terrible supposition that he was already dead, as he closed

his eyes in order to avoid looking upon something even worse. "How can I have died?" he said to himself,

almost insensible. "Could that bed have been let down by some artificial means? But, no! I do not remember

to have received any contusion or any shock. Would they not rather have poisoned me at one of my meals, or

Suddenly the chill of the dungeon seemed to fall like a cloak upon Louis's shoulders. "I have seen," he said,

"My father lying dead upon his funeral couch, in his regal robes. That pale face, so calm and worn; those

hands, once so skilful, lying nerveless by his side; those limbs stiffened by the icy grasp of death, nothing

there betokened a sleep disturbed by dreams. And yet what dreams God might have sent to him, to him

whom so many others had preceded, hurried away by him into eternal death! No, that King was still the King;

he was enthroned still upon that funereal couch, as upon a velvet armchair; he had not abdicated aught of his

majesty. God, who had not punished him, cannot punish me, who have done nothing."

A strange sound attracted the young man's attention. He looked round him, and saw on the mantelshelf, just

below an enormous crucifix coarsely painted in fresco on the wall, a rat of enormous size engaged in nibbling

a piece of dry bread, but fixing all the time an intelligent and inquiring look upon the new occupant of the

cell. The King could not resist a sudden impulse of fear and disgust. He moved back towards the door,

uttering a loud cry; and as if he but needed this cry, which escaped from his breast almost unconsciously, to

recognize himself, Louis knew that he was alive and in full possession of his natural senses. "A prisoner!" he

cried. "I a prisoner!" He looked round him for a bell to summon some one to him. "There are no bells in the

Bastille," he said, "and it is in the Bastille I am imprisoned. In what way can I have been made a prisoner? It

is, of course, a conspiracy of M. Fouquet. I have been drawn into a snare at Vaux. M. Fouquet cannot be

acting alone in this affair. His agent, that voice I but just now heard was M. d'Herblay's; I recognized it.

Colbert was right, then. But what is Fouquet's object? To reign in my place and stead? Impossible! Yet, who

knows?" thought the King, relapsing into gloom. "Perhaps my brother the Duc d'Orleans is doing against me

what my uncle, all through his life, wished to do against my father. But the Queen? My mother too? And La

Valliere? Oh! La Valliere, she will have been abandoned to Madame. Dear child! yes, it is so; they have

shut her up, as they have me. We are separated forever!" and at this idea of separation the lover burst into

"There is a governor in this place," the King continued, in a fury of passion. "I will speak to him; I will

He called; but no voice replied to his. He seized his chair, and hurled it against the massive oaken door. The

wood resounded against the door, and awakened many a mournful echo in the profound depths of the

This was for the King a fresh proof of the slight regard in which he was held in the Bastille. Therefore, when

his first fit of anger had passed away, having noticed a barred window, through which there passed a stream

of light, lozengeshaped, which must be the luminous dawn, Louis began to call out, at first gently, then

louder and louder still; but no one replied to him. Twenty other attempts which he made, one after another,

obtained no better success. His blood began to boil within him, and mount to his head. His nature was such

that, accustomed to command, he trembled at the idea of disobedience. By degrees his anger increased. The

prisoner broke the chair, which was too heavy for him to lift, and made use of it as a batteringram to strike

against the door. He struck with such force and rapidity that the perspiration soon began to pour down his

face. The sound became tremendous and continuous; stifled cries replied in different directions.

This sound produced a strange effect upon the King; he paused to listen to it. It was the voices of the

prisoners, formerly his victims, now his companions. The voices ascended like vapors through the thick

ceilings and the massive walls; they complained against the author of this noise, as doubtless their sighs and

tears accused, in whispered tones, the author of their captivity. After having deprived so many persons of

their liberty, the King had come among them to rob them of their sleep. This idea almost drove him mad; it

redoubled his strength, or rather his will, bent upon obtaining some information or some result. With a

portion of the broken chair he recommenced the noise. At the end of an hour Louis heard something in the

corridor behind the door of his cell; and a violent blow which was returned upon the door itself made him

"Ah, there! are you mad?" said a rude, brutal voice. "What is the matter with you this morning?"

"This morning!" thought the King, surprised; but he said aloud, politely, "Monsieur, are you the governor of

"My good fellow, your head is out of sorts," replied the voice; "but that is no reason why you should make

He heard a door on the corridor close; the jailer had left without condescending to reply. When the King had

assured himself of his departure, his fury knew no longer any bounds. As agile as a tiger, he leaped from the

table to the window, and shook the iron bars. He broke a pane of glass, the pieces of which fell clanking into

the courtyard below. He shouted with increasing hoarseness, "The governor, the governor!" This excess

lasted fully an hour, during which time he was in a burning fever. With his hair in disorder and matted on his

forehead, his dress torn and whitened, his linen in shreds, the King never rested until his strength was utterly

exhausted; and it was not until then that he clearly understood the pitiless thickness of the walls, the

impenetrable nature of the cement, invincible to all other influence save that of time, and that he possessed no

other weapon but despair. He leaned his forehead against the door, and let the feverish throbbings of his heart

"A moment will come when the food which is given to the prisoners will be brought to me. I shall then see

Then the King tried to remember at what hour the first repast of the prisoners was served in the Bastille; he

was ignorant even of this detail. The feeling of remorse at this remembrance smote him like the keen thrust of

a dagger, that he should have lived for fiveandtwenty years a King, and in the enjoyment of every

happiness, without having bestowed a moment's thought on the misery of those who had been unjustly

deprived of their liberty. The King blushed from shame. He felt that Heaven, in permitting this fearful

humiliation, did no more than render to the man the same torture which was inflicted by that man upon so

many others. Nothing could be more efficacious toward awakening religious feeling in that soul prostrated by

the sense of suffering. But Louis dared not even kneel in prayer to God to entreat him to terminate his bitter

"Heaven is right," he said; "Heaven acts wisely. It would be cowardly to pray to Heaven for that which I have

He had reached this stage of his reflections, that is, of his agony of mind, when the same noise was again

heard behind his door, followed this time by the sound of the key in the lock, and of the bolts withdrawn from

their staples. The King bounded forward to be nearer to the person who was about to enter; but suddenly

reflecting that it was a movement unworthy of a sovereign, he paused, assumed a noble and calm expression,

which for him was easy enough, and waited with his back turned towards the window, in order to some extent

to conceal his agitation from the eyes of the person who was about entering. It was only a jailer with a basket

of provisions. The King looked at the man with anxiety, and waited for him to speak.

"Ah!" said the latter, "you have broken your chair, I should say! Why, you must have become quite mad."

"Monsieur," said the King, "be careful what you say; it will be a very serious affair for you."

The jailer placed the basket on the table, and looked at his prisoner steadily. "What do you say?" he said with

"Come, my boy," said the turnkey, "you have always been very quiet and reasonable; but you are getting

vicious, it seems, and I wish to give you warning. You have broken your chair, and made a great disturbance;

that is an offence punishable by imprisonment in one of the lower dungeons. Promise me not to begin over

"Ah! ah! your eyes are becoming wild again. Very good! I shall take away your knife."

The jailer did as he had said, closed the door and departed, leaving the King more astounded, more wretched,

and more alone than ever. In vain he began again to pound the door; in vain he threw the plates and dishes out

of the window; not a sound was heard in answer. Two hours later he could not be recognized as a King, a

gentleman, a man, a human being; he might rather be called a madman, tearing the door with his nails, trying

to tear up the flooring of his cell, and uttering such wild and fearful cries that the old Bastille seemed to

tremble to its very foundations for having revolted against its master. As for the governor, the jailer did not

even think of disturbing him; the turnkeys and the sentinels had made their report, but what was the good of

it? Were not these madmen common enough in the fortress, and were not the walls still stronger than they?

M. de Baisemeaux, thoroughly impressed with what Aramis had told him, and in perfect conformity with the

King's order, hoped only that one thing might happen; namely, that the madman Marchiali might be mad

enough to hang himself to the canopy of his bed or to one of the bars of the window. In fact, the prisoner was

anything but a profitable investment for M. Baisemeaux, and became more annoying than agreeable to him.

These complications of Seldon and Marchiali, these complications of deliverance and reincarceration, these

complications of personal resemblance, would have found a very proper denouement. Baisemeaux even

thought he had remarked that d'Herblay himself would not be altogether dissatisfied with it.

"And then, really," said Baisemeaux to his next in command, "an ordinary prisoner is already unhappy

enough in being a prisoner; he suffers quite enough indeed to induce one to hope, in charity, that his death

may not be far distant. With still greater reason, then, when the prisoner has gone mad, and may bite and

make a disturbance in the Bastille, why, in that case it is not simply an act of mere charity to wish him dead;

it would be almost a commendable action quietly to put him out of his misery." And the goodnatured

D'ARTAGNAN, still confused and oppressed by the conversation he had just had with the King, asked

himself if he were really in possession of his senses; if the scene had occurred at Vaux; if he, d'Artagnan,

were really the captain of the Musketeers and Fouquet the owner of the chateau in which Louis XIV was at

that moment partaking of his hospitality. These reflections were not those of a drunken man, although

everything was in prodigal profusion at Vaux, and the superintendent's wines had met with a distinguished

The Gascon, however, was a man of calm selfpossession; and when he touched his steel blade he was able

to assume, figuratively, the coolness of that steel for his great occasions. "Well," he said, as he quitted the

royal apartment, "I seem now to be mixed up historically with the destinies of the King and of the minister; it

will be written that M. d'Artagnan, a younger son of a Gascon family, placed his hand on the shoulder of M.

Nicholas Fouquet, the superintendent of the finances of France. My descendants, if I have any, will flatter

themselves with the distinction which this arrest will confer, just as the members of the De Luynes family

have done with regard to the estates of the poor Marechal d'Ancre. But now the thing to be done is to execute

the King's directions in a proper manner. Any man would know how to say to M. Fouquet, 'Your sword,

monsieur!' But it is not every one who would be able to take care of M. Fouquet without others knowing

anything about it. How am I to manage, then, so that Monsieur the Superintendent may pass from the height

of favor to the direst disgrace; so that he may exchange Vaux for a dungeon; so that after having been steeped

to his lips, as it were, in all the perfumes and incense of Ahasuerus, he may be transferred to the gallows of

Haman, in other words, of Enguerrand de Marigny?" And at this reflection d'Artagnan's brow became

clouded with perplexity. The musketeer had scruples. To deliver thus to death (for not a doubt existed that

Louis hated Fouquet mortally) the man who had just shown himself so delightful and charming a host in

every way, was a real case of conscience. "It seems to me," said d'Artagnan to himself, "that if I am not a

wretch, I shall let M. Fouquet know the purpose of the King in regard to him. Yet if I betray my master's

secret, I shall be a falsehearted knave and a traitor, a crime provided for and punishable by military laws,

as proved by the fact that twenty times in the wars I have seen miserable fellows strung up for doing in little

degree what my scruples counsel me to do on a larger scale. No, I think that a man of intelligence ought to

get out of this difficulty with more skill than that. And now shall we admit that I have intelligence? It is

doubtful; having drawn on it for forty years, I shall be lucky if there be a pistole's worth left."

D'Artagnan buried his head in his hands, tore his mustache in sheer vexation, and added, "For what reason is

M. Fouquet disgraced? For three reasons: the first, because M. Colbert doesn't like him; the second, because

he wished to fall in love with Mademoiselle de la Valliere; and, lastly, because the King likes M. Colbert and

loves Mademoiselle de la Valliere. Oh, he is a lost man! But shall I put my foot on his neck, I, a man, when

he is falling a prey to the intrigues of a set of women and clerks? For shame! If he be dangerous, I will lay

him low enough; if, however, he be only persecuted, I will look on. I have come to such a decisive

determination that neither King nor living man shall change my opinion. If Athos were here, he would do as I

have done. Therefore, instead of going coldbloodedly up to M. Fouquet and arresting him offhand and

shutting him up, I will try to conduct myself like a man who understands what good manners are. People will

talk about it, of course; but they shall talk well of it, I am determined." And d'Artagnan, drawing by a gesture

peculiar to himself his shoulderbelt over his shoulder, went straight off to Fouquet, who having taken leave

The air was still perfumed or infected, whichever way it may be considered, with the odor of the fireworks;

the waxlights were dying away in their sockets; the flowers fell unfastened from the garlands; the groups of

dancers and courtiers were separating in the salons. Surrounded by his friends, who were complimenting him

and receiving his flattering remarks in return, the superintendent half closed his wearied eyes. He longed for

rest and quiet; he sank upon the bed of laurels which had been heaped up for him for so many days past, it

might almost have been said that he was bowed beneath the weight of the new debts which he had incurred

Fouquet had just retired to his room, still smiling, but more than half dead. He could listen to nothing more;

he could hardly keep his eyes open; his bed seemed to possess a fascinating and irresistible attraction for him.

The god Morpheus the presiding deity of the dome painted by Lebrun had extended his influence over the

adjoining rooms, and showered down his most sleepinducing poppies upon the master of the house.

Fouquet, almost entirely alone, was being assisted by his valetdechambre to undress, when M. d'Artagnan

D'Artagnan had never been able to succeed in making himself common at the court; and notwithstanding he

was seen everywhere and on all occasions, he never failed to produce an effect wherever and whenever he

made his appearance. Such is the happy privilege of certain natures, which in that respect resemble the

lightning or the thunder: every one recognizes them; but their appearance never fails to arouse surprise and

astonishment, and whenever it occurs the impression is always left that the last visitation was the loudest or

brightest and most violent. "What! M. d'Artagnan?" said Fouquet, who had already taken his right arm out of

"In that case, I have to thank you for being so amiably disposed, and I must not fail to express my obligations

These words were as much as to say, "My dear d'Artagnan, pray go to bed, since you have a bed to lie down

D'Artagnan did not seem to understand. "Are you going to bed already?" he said to the superintendent.

Fouquet looked at the musketeer fixedly. "Ah! ah!" he said, "you have just left the King?"

Fouquet turned to his valet, and said, "Leave us!" When the man had left, he said to d'Artagnan, "You have

"A man of your superior intelligence cannot have come to talk with a man like myself, at such an hour as the

"Come into the garden, then," said the superintendent, suddenly, "or into the park."

"Come, admit at once that you arrest me," said the superintendent to the captain.

"Upon your honor! ah, that is quite another thing! So I am to be arrested in my own house?"

"We do not seem to understand each other at all. Stay a moment! There is a chessboard there; we will have a

"I do not understand a word you are saying, Monseigneur; and if you wish me to withdraw, tell me so."

"My dear M. d'Artagnan, your mode of action is enough to drive me mad. I was almost sinking for want of

"I shall never forgive myself, I am sure; and if you wish to reconcile me with myself, why, go to sleep in your

Fouquet ran after him. "I will not lie down," he said. "Seriously, and since you refuse to treat me as a man,

and since you finesse with me, I will try to set you at bay, as a hunter does a wild boar."

"I shall order my horses and set off for Paris," said Fouquet, sounding the heart of the captain of the

"That is quite sufficient, M. d'Artagnan," returned Fouquet, in a cold tone of voice. "It is not idly that you

have acquired your reputation as a man of intelligence and full of resources; but with me that is quite

superfluous. Let us two come to the point. Grant me a service. Why do you arrest me? What have I done?"

"Oh, I know nothing about what you may have done; but I do not arrest you this evening."

"Alas! that is quite impossible, Monseigneur. I have strict orders to see that you hold no communication with

"Monseigneur, is M. d'Herblay the only person with whom you ought to be prevented from holding any

Fouquet colored, and then assuming an air of resignation, said: "You are right, Monsieur; you have taught me

a lesson that I ought not to have provoked. A fallen man cannot assert his right to anything, even to those

whose fortunes he may have made; for a still greater reason he cannot claim anything from those to whom he

"It is true, M. d'Artagnan; you have always acted in the most admirable manner towards me, in such a

manner, indeed, as most becomes the man who is destined to arrest me. You, at least, have never asked me

"Monseigneur," replied the Gascon, touched by his eloquent and noble tone of grief, "will you I ask it as a

"What is the use of it, dear M. d'Artagnan, since you keep watch and ward over me? Do you suppose that I

"It is not that at all, Monseigneur, but that I am going to look for M. d'Herblay, and consequently to leave you

"To look for M. d'Herblay, to leave me alone!" he exclaimed, clasping his hands together.

"Your friend! thank you for that word, Monseigneur; you confer it upon me today, at least, even if you have

"It will take me a good ten minutes to go from hence to the blue room, and to return?" said d'Artagnan.

"And then to wake Aramis, who sleeps soundly when he sleeps at all, I put that down at another five minutes;

making a total of fifteen minutes' absence. And now, Monseigneur, give me your word that you will not in

any way attempt to make your escape, and that when I return I shall find you here again."

"I give it to you, Monsieur," replied Fouquet, with an expression of the warmest and deepest gratitude.

D'Artagnan disappeared. Fouquet looked at him as he quitted the room, waited with feverish impatience until

the door was closed behind him, and as soon as it was shut, flew to his keys, opened two or three secret doors

concealed in various articles of furniture in the room, looked vainly for certain papers, which doubtless he

had left at St. Mande, and which he seemed to regret not finding; then hurriedly seizing hold of letters,

contracts, writings, he heaped them up into a pile, which he burned in the extremest haste upon the marble

hearth of the fireplace, not even taking time to draw from the interior of it the vases and pots of flowers with

which it was filled. As soon as he had finished, like a man who had just escaped an imminent danger, and

whose strength abandons him as soon as the danger is past, he sank down, completely overcome, on a couch.

When d'Artagnan returned, he found Fouquet in the same position. The worthy musketeer had not the

slightest doubt that Fouquet, having given his word, would not even think of failing to keep it; but he had

thought it most likely that Fouquet would turn his (d'Artagnan's) absence to the best advantage in getting rid

of all the papers, memorandums, and contracts which might possibly render his position, which was even

now serious enough, still more dangerous. And so, lifting up his head like a dog who gains the scent,

d'Artagnan perceived a certain odor resembling smoke, which he had fully expected to find in the

atmosphere; having found it, he made a movement of his head in token of satisfaction.

When d'Artagnan entered, Fouquet had, on his side, raised his head, and not one of d'Artagnan's movements

The looks of the two men met, and they both saw that they had understood each other without exchanging a

"Upon my word, Monseigneur," replied d'Artagnan, "M. d'Herblay must be desperately fond of walks by

night, and composing verses by moonlight in the park of Vaux with some of your poets in all probability; for

"What! not in his room?" cried Fouquet, whose last hope had thus escaped him; for without knowing in what

way the Bishop of Vannes could assist him, he well knew that he could not expect assistance from any one

"Or, indeed," continued d'Artagnan, "if he is in his own room, he has very good reasons for not answering."

"But surely you did not call him in such a manner that he could have heard you?"

"You can hardly suppose, Monseigneur, that having already exceeded my orders, which forbade my leaving

you a single moment, you can hardly suppose, I say, that I should have been mad enough to rouse the whole

house and allow myself to be seen in the corridor of the Bishop of Vannes, in order that M. Colbert might

"Of course; at least, that is what I should have done in your place. When any one opens a door for me, I

"And you have done right, morbleu! Every man has his own peculiar secrets, with which others have nothing

"Well, then, I tell you, you could not have called loudly enough, or he would have heard you."

"However softly any one may call Aramis, Monseigneur, he always hears when he has an interest in hearing.

I repeat what I said before, Aramis was not in his own room, or he had certain reasons for not recognizing

my voice, of which I am ignorant, and of which you even may be ignorant yourself, notwithstanding your

Fouquet drew a deep sigh, rose from his seat, made three or four turns in his room, and finished by seating

himself, with an expression of extreme dejection, upon his magnificent bed with velvet hangings and

"I have seen a good many men arrested in my life," said the musketeer, sadly, "I have seen both M. de

CinqMars and M. de Chalais arrested, though I was very young then; I have seen M. de Conde arrested with

the Princes; I have seen M. de Retz arrested; I have seen M. Broussel arrested. Stay a moment, Monseigneur!

It is disagreeable to have to say it; but the very one of all those whom you most resemble at this moment was

that poor fellow Broussel. You were very near doing as he did, putting your dinner napkin in your portfolio,

and wiping your mouth with your papers. Mordioux! Monseigneur Fouquet, a man like you ought not to be

"M. d'Artagnan," returned the superintendent, with a smile full of gentleness, "you do not understand me. It is

precisely because my friends do not see me, that I am such as you see me now. I do not live isolated from

others; I am nothing when left to myself. Understand that throughout my whole life I have passed every

moment of my time in making friends whom I hoped to render my stay and support. In times of prosperity all

these happy voices and rendered so by me formed in my honor a concert of praises and kindly actions. In

the least disfavor, these humbler voices accompanied in harmonious accents the murmur of my own heart.

Isolation I have never yet known. Poverty a phantom I have. sometimes beheld, clad in rags, awaiting me at

the end of my journey through life poverty is the spectre with which many of my own friends have trifled

for years past, which they poetize and caress, and to which they have attracted me. Poverty! I accept it,

acknowledge it, receive it as a disinherited sister; for poverty is not solitude, nor exile, nor imprisonment. Is it

likely I shall ever be poor, with such friends as Pellisson, as La Fontaine, as Moliere; with such a mistress as

Oh! solitude, to me, a man of society; to me, a man inclined to pleasure; to me, who exist only because others

exist Oh, if you knew how utterly lonely and desolate I feel at this moment, and how you, who separate me

from all I love, seem to be the image of solitude, of annihilation, and of death!"

"But I have already told you, M. Fouquet," replied d'Artagnan, moved to the depths of his soul, "that you

At this singular confession of the superintendent, d'Artagnan cast his glance all round the room; and although

"What can be done with these magnificent things when one is no longer magnificent? Do you know what

good the greater part of the wealth and the possessions which we rich enjoy, confer upon us? merely to

disgust us, by their very splendor even, with everything which does not equal this splendor. Vaux, you will

say, and the wonders of Vaux! What then? What boot these wonders? If I am ruined, how shall I fill with

water the urns which my Naiads bear in their arms, or force the air into the lungs of my Tritons? To be rich

"Oh, I know very well what you think," replied Fouquet, quickly. "If Vaux were yours, you would sell it, and

would purchase an estate in the country, an estate which should have woods, orchards, and fields, an estate

"Not a million, my dear captain! No one in France is rich enough to give two millions for Vaux, and to

continue to maintain it as I have done; no one could do it, no one would know how."

"It is not far from it, my dear monsieur. But you do not understand me. No; I will not sell my residence at

Vaux, I will give it to you, if you like"; and Fouquet accompanied these words with a movement of the

"The King does not require me to give it to him," said Fouquet. "He will take it away from me very readily if

it pleases him; and that is the reason why I should prefer to see it perish. Do you know, M. d'Artagnan, that if

the King were not under my roof, I would take this candle, go straight to the dome, set fire to a couple of

huge chests of fusees and fireworks which are in reserve there, and reduce my palace to ashes."

"Bah!" said the musketeer, negligently. "At all events, you would not be able to burn the gardens; and that is

"And yet," resumed Fouquet, thoughtfully, "what was I saying? Great heavens! burn Vaux, destroy my

palace! But Vaux is not mine. This wealth, these wonderful creations, are, it is true, the property, so far as

sense of enjoyment goes, of the man who has paid for them; but so far as duration is concerned, they belong

to those who created them. Vaux belongs to Lebrun, to Lenotre, to Pellisson, to Levau, to La Fontaine, to

Moliere; Vaux belongs to posterity, in fact. You see, M. d'Artagnan, that my very house ceases to be my

"That is good," said d'Artagnan; "I like that idea, and I recognize M. Fouquet himself in it. That idea, indeed,

makes me forget that poor fellow Broussel altogether; and I recall no longer the whining complaints of that

old Frondeur. If you are ruined, Monsieur, look at the affair manfully; for you too, mordioux! belong to

posterity, and have no right to lessen yourself in any way. Stay a moment! Look at me, I who seem to

exercise in a degree a kind of superiority over you because I arrest you. Fate, which distributes their different

parts to the comedians of this world, accorded to me a less agreeable and less advantageous part to fill than

yours has been. I am one of those who think that the parts which kings and powerful nobles are called upon to

act are of infinitely more worth than those of beggars or lackeys. It is better on the stage, on the stage, I

mean, of another theatre than that of this world, it is better to wear a fine coat and to talk fine language than

to walk the boards shod with a pair of old shoes, or to get one's backbone caressed by sticks well laid on. In

one word, you have been a prodigal with money, have ordered and been obeyed, have been steeped to the lips

in enjoyment; while I have dragged my tether after me, have been commanded and have obeyed, and have

drudged my life away. Well, although I may seem of such trifling importance beside you, Monseigneur, I do

declare to you that the recollection of what I have done serves me as a spur, and prevents me from bowing

my old head too soon. I shall remain until the very end a good trooper; and when my turn comes I shall fall

perfectly straight, all in a heap, still alive, after having selected my place beforehand. Do as I do, M.

Fouquet, you will not find yourself the worse for it; that happens only once in a lifetime to men like

yourself, and the chief thing is to do it well when the chance presents itself. There is a Latin proverb the

words have escaped me, but I remember the sense of it very well, for I have thought it over more than once

Fouquet rose from his seat, passed his arm round d'Artagnan's neck, and clasped him in a close embrace,

while with the other hand he pressed the captain's hand. "An excellent homily," he said after a moment's

"You would not ask me, because I would not do it, M. Fouquet. People would learn it; and Aramis, who is

not mixed up with the affair, might possibly be compromised and included in your disgrace."

"You guard me, I remain; you are acting in the full discharge of your duty, I suppose?"

"Very good, then; remain as close to me as my shadow, if you like, I prefer that shadow any other."

"But forget that you are M. d'Artagnan, Captain of the Musketeers; forget that I am M. Fouquet,

"Do you suppose that with any one else but yourself I should have shown so much frankness?"

"What! so much frankness, do you say, you who refuse to tell me the slightest thing?"

"One moment, Monseigneur! Let me tell you how I should have behaved towards any one else but yourself. I

should have arrived at your door just as your friends had left you, or if they had not yet gone I should have

waited until they were leaving, and should then have caught them one after the other like rabbits; I should

have locked them up quietly; I should have stolen softly along the carpet of your corridor, and with one hand

upon you, before you suspected the slightest thing about it, I should have kept you safely until my master's

breakfast in the morning. In this way I should have avoided all publicity, all disturbance, all opposition; but

there would also have been no warning for M. Fouquet, no consideration for his feelings, none of those

delicate concessions which are shown by persons who are essentially courteous in their natures whenever the

"I thought you would not like it. It would have been very disagreeable had I chosen to appear tomorrow

"Your gratitude is too eloquently expressed. I have not done enough to deserve it, I assure you."

"Well, then, Monseigneur, if you are satisfied with what I have done, and have somewhat recovered from the

shock which I prepared you for as much as I could, let us allow the few hours that remain to pass away

undisturbed. You are harassed, and require to arrange your thoughts; I beg you, therefore, to go to sleep, or

pretend to go to sleep, either on your bed or in your bed. I shall sleep in this armchair; and when I fall asleep

"I except, however," continued the musketeer, "the case where one opens a door, whether secret or visible,

whether to go out or to come in. Oh, for that my ear is sensitive to the last degree! Any creaking noise makes

me start, it is a matter of natural antipathy. Move about as much as you like; walk up and down in any part

of the room; write, efface, destroy, burn: but do not touch either the key or the handle of the door; for I should

"M. d'Artagnan," said Fouquet, "you are certainly the most witty and the most courteous man I ever met; and

you will leave me only one regret, that of having made your acquaintance so late."

D'Artagnan drew a deep sigh, which seemed to say, "Alas! you have perhaps made it too soon." He then

settled himself in his armchair; while Fouquet, half lying on his bed and leaning on his arm, meditated upon

his adventure. In this way both of them, leaving the candles burning, awaited the first dawn of day; and when

Fouquet happened to sigh too loudly, d'Artagnan only snored the louder. Not a single visit, not even from

Aramis, disturbed their quietude; not a sound, even, was heard throughout the vast palace. Outside, the guards

of honor and the patrols of the musketeers paced up and down; and the sound of their feet could be heard on

the gravel walks. It was an additional soporific for the sleepers; while the murmuring of the wind through the

trees and the unceasing music of the fountains still went on uninterruptedly, without being disturbed at the

IN CONTRAST with the sad and terrible destiny of the King imprisoned in the Bastille, and tearing, in sheer

despair, the bolts and bars of his dungeon, the rhetoric of the chroniclers of old would not fail to present the

antithesis of Philippe lying asleep beneath the royal canopy. We do not pretend to say that such rhetoric is

always bad, and always scatters in places it should not the flowers with which it embellishes history. But we

shall not dwell on the antithesis, but shall proceed to draw with interest another picture to serve as a

The young Prince descended from Aramis's room in the same way the King had descended from the

apartment dedicated to Morpheus. The dome gradually and slowly sank down under Aramis's pressure, and

Philippe stood beside the royal bed, which had ascended again, after having deposited its prisoner in the

secret depths of the subterranean passage. Alone, in the presence of all the luxury which surrounded him;

alone, in the presence of his power; alone, with the part he was about to be forced to act, Philippe's soul for

the first time opened to the thousand varied emotions which are the vital throbs of a royal heart. But he could

not help changing color when he looked upon the empty bed, still tumbled by his brother's body. This mute

accomplice had returned, after having served in the consummation of the enterprise, it returned with the

traces of the crime; it spoke to the guilty author of that crime, with the frank and unreserved language which

an accomplice never fears to use towards his companion in guilt, it spoke the truth. Philippe bent over the

bed, and perceived a pockethandkerchief lying on it which was still damp with the cold sweat that had

poured from Louis XIV's face. This sweatbestained handkerchief terrified Philippe, as the blood of Abel

"I am now face to face with my destiny," said Philippe, with his eyes on fire and his face livid. "Will it be

more terrifying than my captivity has been sad and gloomy? Forced to pursue at every moment the

usurpations of thought, shall I never cease to listen to the scruples of my heart? Yes; the King has lain on this

bed. It is indeed his head that has left its impression on this pillow, his bitter tears that have stained this

handkerchief; and yet I hesitate to throw myself on the bed, or to press in my hand the handkerchief which is

embroidered with my brother's arms. Away with this weakness! Let me imitate M. d'Herblay, who asserts

that a man's actions should be always one degree above his thought; let me imitate M. d'Herblay, whose

thoughts are of and for himself alone, who regards himself as a man of honor, so long as he injures or betrays

his enemies only. I, I alone should have occupied this bed, if Louis XIV had not, owing to my mother's

criminal abandonment of me, stood in my way; and this handkerchief, embroidered with the arms of France,

would, in right and justice, belong to me alone, if, as M. d'Herblay observes, I had been left in my place in the

royal cradle! Philippe, son of France, take your place on that bed; Philippe, sole King of France, resume the

blazonry which is yours! Philippe, sole heir presumptive to Louis XIII, your father, show yourself without

pity or mercy for the usurper who at this moment has no remorse for all that you have suffered!"

With these words, Philippe, notwithstanding an instinctive repugnance of feeling, and in spite of the shudder

of terror which mastered his will, threw himself on the royal bed, and forced his muscles to press the still

warm place where Louis XIV had lain, while he buried his burning face in the handkerchief still moistened

by his brother's tears. With his head thrown back and buried in the soft down of his pillow, Philippe

perceived above him the crown of France, held, as we have stated, by the angel with the golden wings.

Imagine, then, the royal intruder, his eyes gloomy, his body trembling. He is like a tiger led out of his way by

a night of storm, who comes through the reeds by way of a ravine unknown to him, to lie down in the cave of

an absent lion. The feline odor has attracted him, that warm, moist atmosphere of his ordinary habitation.

He has found a bed of dry herbs, and bones pulverized and pasty like marrow. He arrives; he turns about his

flaming eyes, piercing the gloom; he shakes his streaming limbs and his body, covered with mire, and lies

down heavily, his large nose resting on his enormous paws, ready to sleep, but ready also to fight. From

time to time the lightning blazing in the recesses of the cave, the noise of clashing branches, the sound of

falling stones, the vague apprehension of danger, draw him from the lethargy occasioned by fatigue.

A man may be ambitious of lying in a lion's den, but can hardly hope to sleep there quietly. Philippe listened

attentively to every sound, his heart almost stifled by all his fears; but confident in his own strength, which

was increased by the force of an overpowering resolute determination, he waited until some decisive

circumstance should permit him to judge for himself. He hoped that some great danger would show him the

way, like those phosphoric lights of the tempest which show the sailors the height of the waves against which

they have to struggle. But nothing happened. Silence, the mortal enemy of restless hearts, the mortal enemy

of ambitious minds, shrouded in the thickness of its gloom during the remainder of the night the future King

of France, who lay there sheltered beneath his stolen crown. Towards the morning a shadow, rather than a

body, glided into the royal chamber; Philippe expected his approach, and neither expressed nor exhibited any

"But the prisoner cannot fail to explain himself. Think well of that. I have myself been able to do that, I,

"I have already provided for everything. In a few days, sooner perhaps, we will take the captive out of his

"To a place of exile so distant, I was going to say, that human strength and the duration of human life would

And once more a cold look of intelligence passed between Aramis and the young King.

"He will be presented to you today, and confidentially will congratulate you on your escape from the danger

"Your Majesty is doubtless afraid that that poor Porthos may probably become a troublesome witness; and

"Certainly; you would assuredly kill him, for he would die from joy, and the secret would die with him."

At this moment, and in the middle of this idle conversation, under the light tone of which the two

conspirators concealed their joy and pride at their mutual success, Aramis heard something which made him

"Well, before you retired to bed last night, you probably decided to do something this morning at the break of

"Yes; I told my captain of the Musketeers," replied the young man, hurriedly, "that I should expect him."

"If you told him that, he will certainly be here, for he is a most punctual man."

"Be cautious, for heaven's sake; to begin the attack, and with d'Artagnan, would be madness. D'Artagnan

knows nothing, he has seen nothing. He is a hundred leagues from suspecting our mystery; but if he comes

into this room the first this morning, he will be sure to detect that something has taken place which he will

think his business to occupy himself about. Before we allow d'Artagnan to penetrate into this room, we must

air the room thoroughly, or introduce so many people into it that the keenest scent in the whole kingdom may

"But how can I send him away, since I have given him a rendezvous?" observed the Prince, impatient to

"I will take care of that," replied the bishop; "and in order to begin, I am going to strike a blow which will

"He too is striking a blow, for I hear him at the door," added the Prince, hurriedly.

And, in fact, a knock at the door was heard at that moment. Aramis was not mistaken; for it was indeed

We have seen how he passed the night in philosophizing with M. Fouquet, but the musketeer was very

wearied even of feigning to fall asleep, and as soon as the dawn illumined with its pale blue light the

sumptuous cornices of the superintendent's room, d'Artagnan rose from his armchair, arranged his sword,

brushed his coat and hat with his sleeve, like a private soldier getting ready for inspection.

"Very good. Besides, my only reason for going out is to try and get that reply: you know what I mean?"

"Stay, I have something of the old Roman in me. This morning, when I got up, I remarked that my sword had

not caught in one of the aigulets, and that my shoulderbelt had slipped quite off. That is an infallible sign."

"Yes; be sure of it, for every time that that confounded belt of mine stuck fast to my back, it always

signified a punishment from M. de Treville, or a refusal of money by M. de Mazarin. Every time my sword

hung fast to my shoulderbelt, it always predicted some disagreeable commission or other for me to execute;

and I have had showers of them all my life through. Every time, too, my sword danced about in its sheath, a

duel, fortunate in its result, was sure to follow; whenever it dangled about the calves of my legs, it was a

slight wound; every time it fell completely out of the scabbard, I was booked, and made up my mind that I

should have to remain on the field of battle, with two or three months under the surgeon's care into the

"I never knew your sword kept you so well informed," said Fouquet, with a faint smile, which showed how

he was struggling against his own weaknesses. "Is your sword bewitched, or under the influence of some

"Why, you must know that my sword may almost be regarded as part of my own body. I have heard that

certain men seem to have warnings given them by feeling something the matter with their legs, or by a

throbbing of their temples. With me, it is my sword that warns me. Well, it told me of nothing this morning.

But stay a moment; look here, it has just fallen of its own accord into the last hole of the belt. Do you know

"Well," said the superintendent, more astonished than annoyed by this frankness, "if there is nothing

disagreeable predicted to you by your sword, I am to conclude that it is not disagreeable for you to arrest me."

"Does not concern you, since you have been arrested ever since yesterday. It is not you I shall have to arrest,

be assured of that. That is the reason why I am delighted, and also the reason why I said that my day will be a

And with these words, pronounced with the most affectionate graciousness of manner, the captain took leave

of Fouquet in order to wait upon the King. He was on the point of leaving the room when Fouquet said to

D'Artagnan did not think himself so good a prophet. It was written that the day would pass away and realize

all the predictions that had been made in the morning. He had accordingly knocked, as we have seen, at the

King's door. The door opened. The captain thought that it was the King who had just opened it himself; and

this supposition was not altogether inadmissible, considering the state of agitation in which he had left Louis

XIV on the previous evening. But instead of his royal master, whom he was on the point of saluting with the

greatest respect, he perceived the long, calm features of Aramis. So extreme was his surprise that he could

"His Majesty desires you to report that he is still sleeping, after having been greatly fatigued during the whole

"Ah!" said d'Artagnan, who could not understand how the Bishop of Vannes, who had been so indifferent a

favorite the previous evening, had become in halfadozen hours the largest mushroom of fortune which had

ever sprung up in a sovereign's bedroom. In fact, to transmit the orders of the King even to the mere threshold

of that monarch's room, to serve as an intermediary of Louis XIV so as to be able to give a single order in his

name at a couple of paces from him, he must be greater than Richelieu had ever been to Louis XIII.

D'Artagnan's expressive eye, his halfopened lips, his curling mustache, said as much, indeed, in the plainest

"Moreover," continued the bishop, "you will be good enough, Monsieur the Captain of the Musketeers, to

allow those only to pass into the King's room this morning who have special permission. His Majesty does

"But," objected d'Artagnan, on the point of refusing to obey this order, and particularly of giving unrestrained

passage to the suspicions which the King's silence had aroused, "but, Monsieur the Bishop, his Majesty gave

"Later, later," said the King's voice from the bottom of the alcove, a voice which made a cold shudder pass

through the musketeer's veins. He bowed, amazed, confused, and stupefied by the smile with which Aramis

"And then," continued the bishop, "as an answer to what you were coming to ask the King, my dear

d'Artagnan, here is an order of his Majesty, which you will be good enough to attend to forthwith, for it

"To be set at liberty!" he murmured. "Ah!" and he uttered a second "ah!" still more full of intelligence than

the former, for this order explained Aramis's presence with the King. Aramis, in order to have obtained

Fouquet's pardon, must have made considerable progress in the royal flavor; and this favor explained, in its

tenor, the hardly conceivable assurance with which M. d'Herblay issued the orders in the King's name. For

d'Artagnan it was quite sufficient to have understood something in order to understand everything. He bowed,

"Of course I understand," he said aloud; but then he added in a low tone to himself, almost hissing the words

through his teeth, "No, no! I do not understand yet. But it is all the same, here is the order"; and then he

added, "I will lead the way, Monseigneur," and he conducted Aramis to Fouquet's apartments.

FOUQUET was waiting with anxiety; he had already sent away many of his servants and his friends, who,

anticipating the usual hour of his ordinary receptions, had called at his door to inquire after him. Preserving

the utmost silence respecting the danger suspended over his head, he only asked them as he did every one,

indeed, who came to the door where Aramis was. When he saw d'Artagnan return, and when he perceived

the Bishop of Vannes behind him, he could hardly restrain his delight; it was fully equal to his previous

uneasiness. The mere sight of Aramis was a complete compensation to the superintendent for the unhappiness

he had undergone in being arrested. The prelate was silent and grave, d'Artagnan completely bewildered by

Fouquet resumed his usual serenity that he might interrogate Aramis with his look.

"Oh, yes; you can thank M. the Bishop of Vannes," pursued d'Artagnan, "for it is indeed to him that you owe

"Oh!" said Fouquet, more humiliated at the service than grateful at its success.

"But you," continued d'Artagnan, addressing Aramis, "you who have become M. Fouquet's protector and

"One thing only, then, and I shall be perfectly satisfied. How have you managed to become the favorite of the

"Very well. You think that I have seen the King only twice, while the fact is I have seen him more than a

hundred times; only we have kept it very secret, that is all." And without trying to remove the color which at

this revelation made d'Artagnan's face flush scarlet, Aramis turned towards M. Fouquet, who was as much

surprised as the musketeer. "Monseigneur," he resumed, "the King desires me to inform you that he is more

than ever your friend, and that the beautiful fete so generously offered by you on his behalf has touched him

And thereupon he saluted M. Fouquet with so much reverence of manner that the latter, unable to understand

a man whose diplomacy was of so prodigious a character, remained incapable of uttering a single syllable,

and equally incapable of thought or movement. D'Artagnan fancied that these two men had something to say

to each other, and he was about to yield to that feeling of instinctive politeness which hurries a man towards

the door when he feels his presence is an inconvenience for others; but his eager curiosity, spurred on by so

Aramis thereupon turned towards him, and said in a quiet tone, "You will not forget, my friend, the King's

order respecting those whom he intends to receive this morning on rising." These words were clear enough,

and the musketeer understood them; he therefore bowed to Fouquet, and then to Aramis, to the latter with a

No sooner had he left than Fouquet, whose impatience had hardly been able to wait for that moment, darted

towards the door to close it; and then returning to the bishop, he said, "My dear d'Herblay, I think it now high

time you should explain to me what has passed, for, in plain and honest truth, I do not understand anything."

"We will explain all that to you," said Aramis, sitting down, and making Fouquet sit down also. "Where shall

"Since my arrest I have had time to think it over, and my idea is that it arises out of some slight feeling of

jealousy. My fete put M. Colbert out of temper, and M. Colbert discovered some cause of complaint against

"Do you remember those receipts for thirteen millions which M. de Mazarin contrived to get stolen from

"Oh, that is not all. Do you also remember that letter you wrote to La Valliere?"

"We have not yet arrived at that part of our argument. I wish you to be quite convinced of the fact itself.

Observe this well: the King knows you to be guilty of an appropriation of public funds. Oh, of course I know

that you have done nothing of the kind; but at all events the King has not seen the receipts, and he cannot do

"You will see presently, though. The King, moreover, having read your loveletter to La Valliere, and the

offers you there made her, cannot retain any doubt of your intention with regard to that young lady; you will

"In a few words. The King is, therefore, a powerful, implacable, and eternal enemy for you."

"Agreed. But am I, then, so powerful that he has not dared to sacrifice me, notwithstanding his hatred, with

all the means which my weakness or my misfortunes may have given him as a hold upon me?"

"It is clear, beyond all doubt," pursued Aramis, coldly, "that the King has quarrelled irreconcilably with you."

"Without believing in his sincerity of heart, I believe in the truth of the fact."

"But why, then, should Louis XIV have commissioned you to tell me what you have just stated?"

"Oh, yes! you are quite right. There is an order, certainly"; and these words were pronounced by Aramis in so

"Do not act as if you were playing at the game at which children play when they guess where a thing has been

hidden, and are informed by a bell being rung when they are approaching near to it, or going away from it."

"What did the King say to you? In the name of our friendship, do not deceive me!"

"But what extraordinary empire have you so suddenly acquired over his Majesty's mind?"

"D'Herblay, by our alliance, by our friendship, by everything you hold the dearest in the world, speak openly,

I implore you. By what means have you succeeded in overcoming Louis XIV's prejudices? He did not like

"You are indeed a man of superior intelligence, Monseigneur, and have made a very accurate guess. I have, in

fact, discovered a secret of a nature to change the interests of the King of France."

"Ah!" said Fouquet, with the reserve of a man who does not wish to ask questions.

"And you shall judge of it yourself," pursued Aramis; "and you shall tell me if I am mistaken with regard to

"I am listening, since you are good enough to unbosom yourself to me; only do not forget that I have asked

"Do you remember," said the bishop, casting down his eyes, "the birth of Louis XIV?"

"That does not matter to us, or the kingdom either; he is the son of his father, says the French law, whose

"True; but it is a grave matter when the quality of races is called into question."

"A merely secondary question, after all. So that, in fact, you have never learned or heard anything in

"That is where my secret begins. The Queen, you must know, instead of being delivered of one son, was

"You will see. These twins seemed likely to be regarded as the pride of their mother and the hope of France;

but the weak nature of the King, his superstitious feelings, made him apprehend a series of conflicts between

"Listen. Both the children grew up, the one on the throne, whose minister you are; the other, who is my

"Good heavens! What are you saying, M. d'Herblay? And what is this poor Prince doing?"

"He was brought up in the country, and then thrown into a fortress which goes by the name of the Bastille."

"The one was the most fortunate of men; the other the most unhappy of miserable beings."

This remark seemed to make a great impression on Aramis; he looked at Fouquet with an anxious expression.

"I was saying," resumed Aramis, "that this poor Prince was the unhappiest of men, when God, whose

"You will see. The reigning King, I say the reigning King: you can guess very well why?"

"Because being alike legitimately entitled from their birth, both ought to have been kings. Is not that your

"I am pleased that a legist of your learning and authority should have pronounced such an opinion. It is

"God wished to raise up for that oppressed child an avenger, or a supporter, if you prefer it. It happened that

the reigning King, the usurper you are quite of my opinion, are you not, that it is an act of usurpation for one

quietly to enjoy, and selfishly to assume the right over, an inheritance of which at most only a half belongs to

"I continue, then. It was God's will that the usurper should possess, in the person of his first minister, a man

"Well, well," said Fouquet, "I understand; you have relied upon me to repair the wrong which has been done

to this unhappy brother of Louis XIV. You have thought well; I will help you. I thank you, d'Herblay, I thank

"Oh, no, it is not that at all; you have not allowed me to finish," said Aramis, unmoved.

"M. Fouquet, I was observing that the minister of the reigning sovereign was suddenly regarded with the

greatest aversion, and menaced with the ruin of his fortune, with loss of liberty, with loss of life even, by

intrigue and personal hatred, to which the King gave too readily an attentive ear. But Heaven permits still,

however, out of consideration for the unhappy Prince who had been sacrificed that M. Fouquet should in his

turn have a devoted friend who knew this state secret, and felt that he possessed strength and courage enough

to divulge it, after having had the strength to carry it locked up in his own heart for twenty years."

"Do not go on any farther," said Fouquet, full of generous feelings. "I understand you, and can guess

everything now. You went to see the King when the intelligence of my arrest reached you. You implored

him; he refused to listen to you. Then you threatened him with the revelation of that secret; and Louis XIV,

alarmed, granted to the fear of your indiscretion what he refused to your generous intercession. I understand,

"You understand nothing as yet," replied Aramis, "and again you have interrupted me. And then, too, allow

me to observe that you pay no attention to logical reasoning, and seem to forget what you ought most to

"You know upon what I laid the greatest stress at the beginning of our conversation?"

"Yes, his Majesty's hate, invincible hate, for me; yes, but what feeling of hate could resist the threat of such a

"Such a revelation, do you say? that is the very point where your logic fails you. What! do you suppose that if

"That may be. He might not have had the time to get me killed outright, but he would have had the time to get

me gagged and thrown into a dungeon. Come, come! show a little consistency in your reasoning, mordieu!"

And by the mere use of this word of the Musketeers, an oversight of one who never seemed to forget

anything, Fouquet could not but understand to what a pitch of exaltation the calm, impenetrable Bishop of

"And then," replied the latter, after having mastered his feelings, "should I be the man I really am, should I be

the true friend you consider me, if I were to expose you you whom the King hates already bitterly enough

to a feeling still more than ever to be dreaded in that young man? To have robbed him is nothing; to have

addressed the woman he loves is not much; but to hold in your keeping both his crown and his honor, why,

"I would sooner, far sooner, have swallowed at one draught all the poisons that Mithridates drank in twenty

"Ah, now we are coming to the point, Monseigneur! I think I shall not fail to excite a little interest in you.

Aramis walked softly all round the room, satisfied himself that they were alone and that all was silent, and

then returned, and placed himself close to the armchair in which Fouquet awaited with the deepest anxiety

"I forgot to tell you," resumed Aramis, addressing himself to Fouquet, who listened to him with the most

absorbed attention, "I forgot to mention a most remarkable circumstance respecting these twins; namely,

that God had formed them so like each other that he alone, if he should summon them to his tribunal, could

"The same noble character in their features, the same carriage, the same stature, the same voice."

"There is inequality there, I admit, Monseigneur. Yes, for the prisoner of the Bastille is most incontestably

superior in every way to his brother; and if from his prison this unhappy victim were to pass to the throne,

France would not from the earliest period of its history, perhaps, have had a master more powerful by his

Fouquet buried his face in his hands, as if he were overwhelmed by the weight of this immense secret.

Aramis approached him. "There is a further inequality," he said, continuing his work of temptation, "an

inequality which concerns yourself, Monseigneur, between the twins, sons of Louis XIII; namely, the last

Fouquet raised his head immediately; his features were pale and distorted. The bolt had hit its mark not his

"One of those attempts which, as you said at the beginning of this conversation, alter the fate of empires?"

"In a word, you propose to me that I should assist in the substitution of the son of Louis XIII who is now a

prisoner in the Bastille for the son of Louis XIII who is now at this moment asleep in the Chamber of

Aramis smiled with the sinister expression of his sinister thought. "Perhaps," he said.

"But," said Fouquet, after a painful silence, "you have not reflected that such a political enterprise must

overturn the entire kingdom; and that after pulling up that widelyrooted tree that is called a King, to replace

it by another, the earth around will never again become so firm that the new King may be secure against the

wind that remains of the former tempest, and against the oscillations of his own bulk."

"Have you thought," continued Fouquet, becoming animated with that power of genius which in a few

seconds originates and matures the conception of a plan, and with that largeness of view which foresees all its

consequences and embraces all its results, "have you thought that we must assemble the nobility, the clergy,

and the third estate of the realm; that we shall have to depose the reigning sovereign, to disturb by a frightful

scandal the tomb of their dead father, to sacrifice the life, the honor, of a woman (Anne of Austria), the life

and peace of another woman (Maria Theresa)? And suppose that all were done, if we were to succeed in

"I do not understand you," continued Aramis, coldly. "There is not a single word of the slightest use in what

"What!" said the superintendent, surprised; "a man like you refuse to view the practical bearings of the case?

Do you confine yourself to the childish delight of a political illusion, and neglect the chances of fulfilment,

"My friend," said Aramis, emphasizing the word with a kind of disdainful familiarity, "what does God do in

"God!" exclaimed Fouquet, "God gives directions to his agent, who seizes upon the doomed victim, hurries

him away, and seats the triumphant rival on the empty throne. But you forget that this agent is called death.

"There is no question of that, Monseigneur, you are going beyond the object in view. Who spoke of Louis

XIV's death; who spoke of adopting the example of God in the strict method of his works? No; I wish you to

understand that God effects his purposes without confusion, without scandal, without effort, and that men

inspired by God succeed like him in all their undertakings, in all they attempt, in all they do."

"I mean, my friend," returned Aramis, with the same intonation on the word "friend" that he had applied to it

the first time, "I mean that if there has been any confusion, scandal, and even effort in the substitution of the

"What!" cried Fouquet, whiter than the handkerchief with which he wiped his temples; "what do you say?"

"Go to the King's apartment," continued Aramis, tranquilly; "and you who know the mystery, I defy even you

"What King?" said Aramis, in his gentlest tone; "the one who hates you, or the one who likes you?"

"The King of yesterday! Be quite easy on that score; he has gone to take the place in the Bastille which his

"Yes, and in the simplest way. I carried him away last night; and while he was descending into gloom, the

other was ascending into light. I do not think there has been any disturbance created in any way. A flash of

Fouquet uttered a thick, smothered cry, as if he had been struck by some invisible blow, and clasping his head

"Yes; here at Vaux, in the Chamber of Morpheus. It would almost seem that it had been built in anticipation

Fouquet made a movement as if he were on the point of springing upon Aramis; he restrained himself. "At

"I believe so; for it is still your house, and is likely to continue so, since M. Colbert cannot rob you of it

"This abominable crime!" pursued Fouquet, becoming more and more excited; "this crime more execrable

than an assassination; this crime which dishonors my name forever, and entails upon me the horror of

"You are not in your senses, Monsieur," replied Aramis, in an irresolute tone of voice; "you are speaking too

Fouquet turned towards the prelate, whom he looked full in the face. "You have dishonored me," he said, "in

committing so foul an act of treason, so heinous a crime upon my guest, upon one who was peacefully

"Woe to the man, rather, who beneath your roof meditated the ruin of your fortune, your life. Do you forget

Aramis rose, his eyes literally bloodshot, his mouth trembling convulsively. "Have I a man out of his senses

"A man who would sooner die, who would kill you even, rather than allow you to complete his dishonor."

And Fouquet snatched up his sword, which d'Artagnan had placed at the head of his bed, and clinched it

resolutely in his hand. Aramis frowned, and thrust his hand into his breast, as if in search of a weapon. This

movement did not escape Fouquet, who, noble and grand in his magnanimity, threw his sword to a distance

from him, and approached Aramis so close as to touch his shoulder with his disarmed hand. "Monsieur," he

said, "I would sooner die here on the spot than survive my disgrace; and if you have any pity left for me, I

Aramis raised his head gently, and a glimmer of hope might be seen once more to animate his eyes. "Reflect,

Monseigneur," he said, "upon everything we have to expect. As the matter now stands, the King is still alive,

"Yes," replied Fouquet, "you may have been acting on my behalf; but I do not accept your service. At the

"I am hospitable towards all who are dwellers beneath my roof," continued Fouquet, with an air of

inexpressible majesty; "you will not be more fatally lost than he whose ruin you have consummated."

"You will be so," said Aramis, in a hoarse, prophetic, voice "you will be so, believe me."

"I accept the augury, M. d'Herblay; but nothing shall stop me. You will leave Vaux; you must leave France. I

"Upon the word of Fouquet, no one shall follow you before the expiration of that time. You will therefore

have four hours' advance of those whom the King may wish to despatch after you."

"It is more than you will need to get on board a vessel, and flee to BelleIsle, which I give you as a place of

"BelleIsle is as much mine for you as Vaux is mine for the King. Go, d'Herblay, go! as long as I live, not a

"Go at once, then, and give me your hand, before we both hasten away, you to save your life, I to save my

Aramis withdrew from his breast the hand he had concealed there; it was stained with his blood. He had dug

his nails into his flesh, as if in punishment for having nursed so many projects, more vain, insensate, and

fleeting than the life of man. Fouquet was horrorstricken, and then his heart smote him with pity. He opened

"I had no weapons," murmured Aramis, as wild and terrible as the shade of Dido. And then, without touching

Fouquet's hand, he turned his head aside, and stepped back a pace or two. His last word was an imprecation,

his last gesture a curse, which his bloodstained hand seemed to invoke, as it sprinkled on Fouquet's face a

few drops of his blood; and both of them darted out of the room by the secret staircase which led down to the

inner courtyard. Fouquet ordered his best horses, while Aramis paused at the foot of the staircase which led to

Porthos's apartment. He reflected for some time, while Fouquet's carriage left the stonepaved courtyard at

"Shall I go alone," said Aramis to himself, "or warn the Prince? Oh, fury! Warn the Prince, and then do

what? Take him with me? Carry this accusing witness about with me everywhere? War, too, would follow,

civil war, implacable in its nature! And without any resource alas, it is impossible! What will he do without

me? Without me he will be utterly destroyed! Yet who knows? let destiny be fulfilled! Condemned he was,

let him remain so, then! God! Demon! Gloomy and scornful Power, whom men call the Genius of man, thou

art only a breath, more uncertain, more useless, than the wind in the mountains! Chance thou term'st thyself,

but thou art nothing; thou inflamest everything with thy breath, crumblest mountains at thy approach, and

suddenly art thyself destroyed at the presence of the cross of dead wood, behind which stands another Power

invisible like thyself, whom thou deniest, perhaps, but whose avenging hand is on thee, and hurls thee in the

dust dishonored and unnamed! Lost! I am lost! What can be done? Flee to BellIsle? Yes, and leave Porthos

behind me, to talk and relate the whole affair to every one, Porthos, who will suffer, perhaps! I will not let

poor Porthos suffer. He is one of the members of my own frame; his grief is mine. Porthos shall leave with

And Aramis, apprehensive of meeting any one to whom his hurried movements might appear suspicious,

ascended the staircase without being perceived. Porthos, but just returned from Paris, slept already the sleep

of the just; his huge body forgot its fatigue as his mind forgot its thoughts. Aramis entered, light as a shadow,

and placed his nervous grasp on the giant's shoulder. "Come, Porthos," he cried, "come."

Porthos obeyed, rose from his bed, and opened his eyes, even before opening his mind.

And he helped the giant to dress himself, and thrust his gold and diamonds into his pocket. While he was thus

engaged, a slight noise attracted his attention, and he saw d'Artagnan looking at them from the open doorway.

"What the devil are you doing there in such an agitated manner?" said the musketeer.

"Oh, dear me!" said Porthos, "I feel so wearied; I would much prefer to sleep. But the service of the King"

"What else do you think he could say? Am I worth anything now, since you have all got into such high

"Listen," said Aramis, embracing the musketeer; "your good times are returning again. You will have no

"I predict that something will happen to you today which will increase your importance."

The two fugitives mounted their horses beneath the eyes of the captain of the Musketeers, who held Porthos's

"On any other occasion," thought the Gascon, "I should say that those gentlemen were making their escape;

but in these days politics seem so changed that this is called going on a mission. I have no objection. Let me

FOUQUET tore along as fast as his horses could drag him. On the way he trembled with horror at the idea of

what had just been revealed to him. "What must have been," he thought, "the youth of those extraordinary

men, who, even as age is stealing fast upon them, still are able to conceive such plans, and to carry them out

At one moment he asked himself whether all that Aramis had just been recounting to him was not a dream

only, and whether the fable itself was not the snare; so that when he should arrive at the Bastille he might find

an order of arrest, which would send him to join the dethroned King. Strongly impressed with this idea, he

gave certain sealed orders on his route, while fresh horses were harnessed to his carriage. These orders were

addressed to M. d'Artagnan and to certain others whose fidelity to the King was far above suspicion.

"In this way," said Fouquet to himself, "prisoner or not, I shall have performed the duty which I owe to my

honor. The orders will not reach them until after my return, if I should return free, and consequently they will

not have been unsealed. I shall then take them back again. If I am delayed, it will be because some misfortune

will have befallen me; and in that case assistance will be sent for me as well as for the King."

Prepared in this manner, the superintendent arrived at the Bastille; he had travelled at the rate of five leagues

and a half an hour. Every circumstance of delay which Aramis had escaped in his visit to the Bastille befell

Fouquet. It was in vain that he gave his name, in vain that he endeavored to be recognized; he could not

succeed in obtaining an entrance. By dint of entreaties, threats, and commands, he succeeded in inducing a

sentinel to speak to one of the subalterns, who went and told the major. As for the governor, they did not even

dare disturb him. Fouquet sat in his carriage, at the outer gate of the fortress, chafing with rage and

impatience, awaiting the return of the officer, who at last reappeared with a somewhat sulky air.

"Well, Monsieur," replied the soldier, "the major laughed in my face. He told me that M. Fouquet was at

Vaux, and that even were he at Paris, M. Fouquet would not rise at so early an hour as the present."

"Mordieu! you are a set of fools," cried the minister, darting out of the carriage; and before the subaltern had

had time to shut the gate, Fouquet sprang through it, and ran forward in spite of the soldier, who cried out for

assistance. Fouquet gained ground, regardless of the cries of the man, who however, having at last come up

with Fouquet, called out to the sentinel of the second gate, "Look out, look out, sentinel!" The man crossed

his pike before the minister; but the latter, robust and active, and carried away too by his passion, wrested the

pike from the soldier, and struck him a violent blow on the shoulder with it. The subaltern, who approached

too closely, received his part of the blows as well. Both of them uttered loud and furious cries, at the sound of

which the whole of the first body of the advanced guard poured out of the guardhouse. Among them there

was one, however, who recognized the superintendent, and who called out, "Monseigneur! ah, Monseigneur!

Stop, stop, you fellows!" and he effectually checked the soldiers, who were on the point of avenging their

companions. Fouquet desired them to open the gate; but they refused to do so without the countersign. He

desired them to inform the governor of his presence; but the latter had already heard the disturbance at the

gate. He ran forward, followed by his major, and accompanied by a picket of twenty men, persuaded that an

attack was being made on the Bastille. Baisemeaux also recognized Fouquet immediately, and dropped his

"Monsieur," said the superintendent, flushed with anger, and heated by his exertions, "I congratulate you.

Baisemeaux turned pale, thinking that this remark was said ironically, and portended a furious burst of anger.

But Fouquet had recovered his breath, and beckoning towards him the sentinel and the subaltern, who were

rubbing their shoulders, he said, "There are twenty pistoles for the sentinel, and fifty for the officer. Pray

receive my compliments, gentlemen. I will not fail to speak to his Majesty about you. And now, M.

And he followed the governor to his official residence, accompanied by a murmur of general satisfaction.

Baisemeaux was already trembling with shame and uneasiness. Aramis's early visit from that moment

seemed to involve consequences which a functionary was justified in apprehending. It was quite another

thing, however, when Fouquet, in a sharp tone of voice, and with an imperious look, said, "You have seen M.

"And are you not horrified at the crime of which you have made yourself an accomplice?"

"Well," thought Baisemeaux, "good so far"; and then he added aloud, "But what crime, Monseigneur, do you

"That for which you can be quartered alive, Monsieur, do not forget that! But this is not a time to show

"You pretend to be ignorant! Very good; it is the best thing for you to do, for if, in fact, you were to admit

your participation in it, it would be all over with you. I wish, therefore, to seem to believe in your assumption

"He is called Marchiali?" said the superintendent, his conviction some. what shaken by Baisemeaux's cool

Fouquet looked steadily at Baisemeaux, as if to read his very heart, and perceived, with that

clearsightedness which men possess who are accustomed to the exercise of power, that the man was

speaking with absolute sincerity. Besides, on observing his face for a moment, he could not believe that

"It is the prisoner," said the superintendent to Baisemeaux, "whom M. d'Herblay carried away the day before

"And whom he brought back this morning?" added Fouquet, quickly, for he understood immediately the

"Yes; Marchiali. If Monseigneur has come here to remove him, so much the better, for I was going to write

"Ever since this morning, he has annoyed me extremely. He has had such terrible fits of passion as almost to

Fouquet assumed an irritated expression. "As you are so scrupulous," he said, "with regard to allowing

"I have nothing to fear, Monseigneur; I am acting according to strict regulation."

"I would say so in the presence of an apostle. M. d'Herblay brought me an order to set Seldon at liberty; and

"You, Monseigneur, who govern in this kingdom, know very well that no one can see any of the prisoners

"M. de Baisemeaux, once more I warn you to pay particular attention to what you are saying."

"What influences me, Monseigneur, is the King's service. I am doing my duty. Give me an order from him,

"Stay, Monsieur the Governor! I give you my word that if you allow me to see the prisoner I will give you an

"And that if you refuse me I will have you and all your officers arrested on the spot."

"Before you commit such an act of violence, Monseigneur, you will reflect'" said Baisemeaux, who had

turned very pale, "that we will only obey an order signed by the King; and that it will be just as easy for you

to obtain one to see Marchiali as to obtain one to do so much injury to me, who am innocent."

"True, true!" cried Fouquet, furiously, "perfectly true! M. de Baisemeaux," he added in a sonorous voice,

drawing the unhappy governor towards him, "do you know why I am so anxious to speak to the prisoner?"

"No, Monseigneur; and please observe that you are terrifying me. I tremble, and feel as if I were going to

"You will faint outright, M. Baisemeaux, when I return here at the head of ten thousand men and thirty pieces

"When I have roused the whole population of Paris against you and your cursed towers, and have battered

open the gates of this place, and hanged you up to the bars of that tower in the corner there."

"I will give you ten minutes to make up your mind," added Fouquet, in a calm voice. "I will sit down here in

this armchair and wait for you. If in ten minutes' time you still persist, I will leave this place, and you may

Baisemeaux stamped his foot on the ground like a man in a state of despair, but he did not utter a word;

"Order for M. le Prevot des Marchands to assemble the municipal guard, and to march upon the Bastille for

"Order for M. le Duc de Bouillon and M. le Prince de Conde to assume the command of the Swiss and of the

"Order for every soldier, citizen, or gentleman to seize and apprehend, wherever he may be found, the

Chevalier d'Herblay, Eveque de Vannes, and his accomplices, who are first, M. de Baisemeaux, governor of

"Stop, Monseigneur!" cried Baisemeaux. "I understand absolutely nothing of the whole matter; but so many

misfortunes, even were it madness itself that had set them at work, might happen here in a couple of hours

that the King, by whom I shall be judged, will see whether I have been wrong in withdrawing the countersign

before so many imminent catastrophes. Come with me to the keep, Monseigneur; you shall see Marchiali."

Fouquet darted out of the room, followed by Baisemeaux wiping the perspiration from his face. "What a

Baisemeaux made a sign to the jailer to precede them. He was afraid of his companion, which the latter

"A truce to this child'splay!" said Fouquet, roughly. "Let the man remain here; take the keys yourself, and

show me the way. Not a single person, do you understand, must hear what is going to take place here."

"Again," cried Fouquet. "Ah! say 'No' at once, and I will leave the Bastille, and will myself carry my own

Baisemeaux bowed his head, took the keys, and unaccompanied except by the minister, ascended the

staircase. As they advanced up the spiral staircase, certain smothered murmurs became distinct cries and

"That is your Marchiali," said the governor; "that is the way madmen howl." And he accompanied that reply

with a glance more indicative of injurious allusions, as far as Fouquet was concerned, than of politeness.

The latter trembled; he had just recognized, in one cry more terrible than any that had preceded it, the King's

voice. He paused on the staircase, trying to snatch the bunch of keys from Baisemeaux, who thought this new

"Give me the keys at once!" cried Fouquet, tearing them from his hand. "Which is the key of the door I am to

A fearful cry, followed by a violent blow against the door, made the whole staircase resound with the echo.

"I ask nothing better," murmured the latter. "There will be a couple of madmen face to face; and the one will

"Go!" repeated Fouquet. "If you place your foot on this staircase before I call you, remember that you shall

"This job will kill me, I am sure!" muttered Baisemeaux, as he withdrew with tottering steps.

The prisoner's cries became more and more terrible. When Fouquet had satisfied himself that Baisemeaux

had reached the bottom of the staircase, he inserted the key in the first lock. It was then that he heard the

hoarse, choking voice of the King crying out in a frenzy of rage, "Help, help! I am the King!" The key of the

second door was not the same as the first, and Fouquet was obliged to look for it on the bunch. The King,

meanwhile, furious and almost mad with rage and passion, shouted at the top of his voice, "It was M. Fouquet

who brought me here! help me against M. Fouquet! I am the King! help the King against M. Fouquet!"

These cries tore the minister's heart with mingled emotions. They were followed by frightful blows levelled

against the door with a part of the broken chair with which the King had armed himself. Fouquet at last

succeeded in finding the key. The King was almost exhausted; he no longer articulated, he roared: "Death to

THE two men were on the point of darting towards each other, when they suddenly stopped, as a mutual

"Have you come to assassinate me, Monsieur?" said the King, when he recognized Fouquet.

Nothing could be more terrible, indeed, than the appearance of Louis at the moment Fouquet had surprised

him; his clothes were in tatters; his shirt, open and torn to rags, was stained with sweat, and with the blood

which streamed from his lacerated breast and arms. Haggard, pale, foaming, his hair dishevelled, Louis XIV

presented a vivid picture of despair, hunger, and fear, combined in one figure. Fouquet was so touched, so

affected and disturbed, that he ran to the King with his arms stretched out and his eyes filled with tears. Louis

"Sire," said Fouquet, in a voice trembling with emotion, "do you not recognize the most faithful of your

"A friend, you!" repeated Louis, gnashing his teeth in a manner which betrayed his hate and desire for

"The most respectful of your servants," added Fouquet, throwing himself on his knees. The King let the rude

weapon fall from his grasp. Fouquet approached him, kissed his knees, and took him tenderly in his arms.

Louis, recalled to himself by the change of situation, looked at himself, and ashamed of his disordered state,

ashamed of his conduct, ashamed of the protection he was receiving, drew back. Fouquet did not understand

this movement; he did not perceive that the King's pride would never forgive him for having been a witness

"Free?" repeated the King. "Oh! you set me at liberty, then, after having dared to lift up your hand against

"You do not believe that!" exclaimed Fouquet, indignantly; "you cannot believe me to be guilty of such an

And rapidly, warmly even, he related the whole particulars of the intrigue, the details of which are already

known to the reader. While the recital continued, Louis suffered the most horrible anguish of mind; and when

it was finished, the magnitude of the danger he had run struck him far more than the importance of the secret

relating to his twin brother. "Monsieur," he said suddenly to Fouquet, "this double birth is a falsehood; you

"It is impossible, I tell you, that the honor, the virtue of my mother can be suspected. And my first minister,

"Reflect, Sire, before you are carried away by your anger," replied Fouquet. "The birth of your brother"

"I have only one brother; and that is Monsieur. You know it as well as myself. There is a plot, I tell you,

"Be careful, Sire, for this man has been deceived as every one else has by the Prince's likeness to yourself."

"Likeness? absurd!" "This Marchiali must, however, be very like your Majesty to be able to deceive every

"Do not say so, Sire; those who had prepared everything in order to face and deceive your ministers, your

mother, your officers of state, the members of your family, must be quite confident of the resemblance

"There is truth in that," murmured the King; "but where are these persons, then?"

"My most pressing duty seemed to be your Majesty's release. I have accomplished that duty; and now

"For that purpose, yes, Sire! your Majesty will be at the head of ten thousand men in an hour."

The only reply the King made was to take hold of Fouquet's hand with such an expression of feeling that it

was very easy to perceive how strongly he had until that remark maintained his suspicions of the minister,

notwithstanding the latter's intervention. "And with these troops," he said, "we shall go at once and besiege in

your house the rebels who by this time will have established and intrenched themselves there."

"Because their chief, the very soul of the enterprise, having been unmasked by me, the whole plan seems

"The leader of the enterprise is not that unhappy young man; the latter is merely an instrument, destined

"An unfortunate circumstance for you," said the King, in a less generous tone of voice.

"Such friendship, Sire, had nothing dishonorable in it so long as I was ignorant of the crime."

"Ah, M. Fouquet, it was not that I meant," returned the King, sorry to have shown the bitterness of his

thought in such a manner. "Well; I assure you that notwithstanding the mask with which the villain covered

his face, I had something like a vague suspicion that it might be he. But with this chief of the enterprise there

was a man of prodigious strength; the one who menaced me with a force almost herculean, what is he?"

"The friend of d'Artagnan; the friend of the Comte de la Fere? Ah!" exclaimed the King, as he paused at the

name of the latter, "we must not forget that connection between the conspirators and M. de Bragelonne."

"Sire, Sire, do not go too far! M. de la Fere is the most honorable man in France. Be satisfied with those

"With those whom you deliver up to me, you say? Very good, for you will deliver up those who are guilty to

"I understand," replied the King, "that we shall soon arrive at Vaux with a large body of troops, that we will

"Let us understand each other, M. Fouquet," said the King, haughtily. "We no longer live in times when

assassination was the only, the last resource of kings. No, Heaven be praised! I have parliaments who judge

Fouquet turned pale. "I will take the liberty of observing to your Majesty that any proceedings instituted

respecting these matters would bring down the greatest scandal upon the dignity of the throne. The august

name of Anne of Austria must never be allowed to pass the lips of the people accompanied by a smile."

"The royal blood! you believe that?" cried the King, with fury in his voice, stamping on the ground. "This

double birth is an invention; and in that invention particularly do I see M. d'Herblay's crime. That is the crime

"Sire," said the superintendent, with firmness, as he raised his head proudly, "your Majesty will take the life,

if you please, of your brother Philippe of France; that concerns you alone, and you will doubtless consult the

QueenMother upon the subject. Whatever she may order will be ordered well. I do not wish to mix myself

up in it, not even for the honor of your crown; but I have a favor to ask of you, and I beg to submit to you."

"Speak," said the King, in no little degree agitated by his minister's last words. "What do you require?"

"Your friends, certainly; but the safety of the State requires that an exemplary punishment should be inflicted

"I will not permit myself to remind your Majesty that I have just restored you to liberty, and have saved your

"I will only remind your Majesty that had M. d'Herblay wished to play the part of an assassin, he could very

easily have assassinated your Majesty this morning in the forest of Senart, and all would have been over."

"A pistolbullet through the head," pursued Fouquet, "and the disfigured features of Louis XIV, which no

"If M. d'Herblay," continued Fouquet, "had been an assassin, he had no occasion to inform me of his plan in

order to succeed. Freed from the real King, it would have been impossible to guess the false one. And if the

usurper had been recognized by Anne of Austria, he would still have been a son for her. The usurper, so far

as M. d'Herblay's conscience was concerned, was still a King of the blood of Louis XIII. Moreover, the

conspirator in that course would have had security, secrecy, and impunity. A pistolbullet would have

The King, instead of being touched by that picture, so faithful in all its details, of Aramis's generosity, felt

himself painfully humiliated. His unconquerable pride revolted at the idea that a man had held suspended at

the end of his finger the thread of his royal life. Every word which Fouquet thought would be efficacious in

procuring his friend's pardon, carried another drop of poison to the already rankling heart of Louis XIV.

Nothing could bend him. Addressing himself to Fouquet, he said, "I really don't know, Monsieur, why you

should solicit the pardon of these men. What good is there in asking that which can be obtained without

"Well; change nothing in the position of affairs. Let the madman rot in the dungeon of the Bastille, and M.

d'Herblay and M. du Vallon will stand in no need of my forgiveness. Their new King will absolve them."

"Your Majesty does me a great injustice, Sire; and you are wrong," replied Fouquet, dryly. "I am not child

enough, nor is M. d'Herblay silly enough, to have omitted to make all these reflections; and if I had wished to

make a new King, as you say, I had no occasion to have come here to force open all the gates and doors of

the Bastille, to free you from this place. That would show a want of commonsense even. Your Majesty's

mind is disturbed by anger; otherwise you would be far from offending groundlessly the very one of your

Louis perceived that he had gone too far, that the gates of the Bastille were still closed upon him; while, by

degrees, the floodgates were gradually being opened behind which the generoushearted Fouquet had

restrained his anger. "I did not say that to humiliate you, Heaven knows, Monsieur," he replied. "Only you

are addressing yourself to me in order to obtain a pardon, and I answer you according as my conscience

dictates. And so, judging by my conscience, the criminals we speak of are not worthy of consideration of

"What I do is as generous," added the King, "as what you have done, for I am in your power. I will even say,

it is more generous, inasmuch as you place before me certain conditions upon which my liberty, my life, may

"I was wrong, certainly," replied Fouquet. "Yes; I had the appearance of extorting a favor. I regret it, and

"And you are forgiven, my dear M. Fouquet," said the King, with a smile which restored the serene

expression of his features, which so many circumstances had altered since the preceding evening.

"I have my own forgiveness," replied the minister, with some degree of persistence; "but M. d'Herblay and

"They will never obtain theirs as long as I live," replied the inflexible King. "Do me the kindness not to speak

"M. d'Herblay came, so to speak, to deliver himself into my hands. M. d'Herblay left to me the happiness of

saving my King and my country. I could not condemn M. d'Herblay to death; nor could I, on the other hand,

expose him to your Majesty's most justifiable wrath, it would have been just the same as if I had killed him

"Sire, I gave M. d'Herblay the best horses in my stables, and four hours' start over those your Majesty will

"Be it so!" murmured the King. "But still, the world is large enough for those whom I may send to overtake

your horses, notwithstanding the 'four hours' start' which you have given to M. d'Herblay."

"In giving him those four hours, Sire, I knew I was giving him his life; and he will save his life."

"After having galloped as hard as possible, with the four hours' start over your Musketeers, he will reach my

"Neither your Musketeers nor your whole army could take BelleIsle," said Fouquet, coldly. "BelleIsle is

The King became livid; a lightning flash darted from his eyes. Fouquet felt that he was lost, but he was not

one to shrink when the voice of honor spoke loudly within him. He bore the King's wrathful gaze; the latter

swallowed his rage, and after a few moments' silence, said, "Are we going to return to Vaux?"

"I am at your Majesty's orders," replied Fouquet, with a low bow; "but I think that your Majesty can hardly

"We shall pass by the Louvre," said the King. "Come." And they left the prison, passing before Baisemeaux,

who looked completely bewildered as he saw Marchiali once more leave, and in his helplessness tore out the

few remaining hairs he had left. It is true that Fouquet wrote and gave him an authority for the prisoner's

release, and that the King wrote beneath it, "Seen and approved, Louis," a piece of madness that

Baisemeaux, incapable of putting two ideas together, acknowledged by giving himself a terrible blow with

IN THE mean time, usurped royalty was playing out its part bravely at Vaux. Philippe gave orders that for his

petit lever, the grandes entrees, already prepared to appear before the King, should be introduced. He

determined to give this order notwithstanding the absence of M. d'Herblay, who did not return, and our

readers know for what reason. But the Prince, not believing that the absence could be prolonged, wished, as

all rash spirits do, to try his valor and his fortune independently of all protection and all counsel. Another

reason urged him to this, Anne of Austria was about to appear; the guilty mother was about to stand in the

presence of her sacrificed son. Philippe was not willing, if he should betray any weakness, to render the man

a witness of it before whom he was bound thenceforth to display so much strength.

Philippe opened his foldingdoors, and several persons entered silently. Philippe did not stir while his valets

de chambre dressed him. He had watched, the evening before, all the habits of his brother, and played the

King in such a manner as to awaken no suspicion. He was then completely dressed in his hunting costume

when he received his visitors. His own memory and the notes of Aramis announced everybody to him, first of

all Anne of Austria, to whom Monsieur gave his hand, and then Madame with M. de SaintAignan. He

smiled at seeing these countenances, but trembled on recognizing his mother. That figure so noble, so

imposing, ravaged by pain, pleaded in his heart the cause of that famous Queen who had immolated a child to

reasons of state. He found his mother still handsome. He knew that Louis XIV loved her; and he promised

himself to love her likewise, and not to prove a cruel chastisement for her old age. He contemplated his

brother with a tenderness easily to be understood. The latter had usurped nothing over him, had cast no shade

over his life; a separate branch, he allowed the stem to rise without heeding its elevation or the majesty of its

life. Philippe promised himself to be a kind brother to this Prince, who required nothing but gold to minister

to his pleasures. He bowed with a friendly air to De SaintAignan, who was all reverences and smiles, and

tremblingly held out his hand to Henrietta, his sisterinlaw, whose beauty struck him; but he saw in her eyes

an expression of coldness which would facilitate, as he thought, their future relations.

"How much more easy," thought he, "it will be to be the brother of that woman than her gallant, if she

evinces towards me a coldness that my brother could not have for her, and which is imposed upon me as a

duty." The only visit he dreaded at this moment was that of the Queen; his heart, his mind, had just been

shaken by so violent a trial that in spite of their firm temperament they would not, perhaps, support another

Then began, on the part of Anne of Austria, a political dissertation upon the welcome M. Fouquet had given

to the house of France. She mixed up hostilities with compliments addressed to the King, and questions as to

his health with little maternal flatteries and diplomatic artifices. "Well, my son," said she, "are you convinced

"SaintAignan," said Philippe, "have the goodness to go and inquire after the Queen."

At these words, the first which Philippe had pronounced aloud, the slight difference that there was between

his voice and that of the King was sensible to maternal ears, and Anne of Austria looked earnestly at her son.

De SaintAignan left the room, and Philippe continued, "Madame, I do not like to hear M. Fouquet

illspoken of, you know I do not; and you have even spoken well of him yourself."

"That is true; therefore I only question you on the state of your sentiments with respect to him."

"Sire," said Henrietta, "I, on my part, have always liked M. Fouquet. He is a man of good taste; he is a

"A superintendent who is never sordid or niggardly," added Monsieur, "and who pays in gold all the orders I

"Every one in this thinks too much of himself, and nobody for the State," said the old Queen. "M. Fouquet it

"Well, Mother," replied Philippe, in rather a lower key, "do you likewise constitute yourself the buckler of M.

"Why, in truth," replied Philippe, "you speak that just as your old friend Madame de Chevreuse would

At that name Anne of Austria turned pale and bit her lips. Philippe had irritated the lioness. "Why do you

mention Madame de Chevreuse to me?" said she; "and what sort of humor are you in today towards me?"

Philippe continued: "Is not Madame de Chevreuse always in league against somebody? Has not Madame de

"Monsieur, you speak to me now in such a manner that I can almost fancy I am listening to your father."

"My father did not like Madame de Chevreuse, and with good reason," said the Prince. "For my part, I like

her no better than he did; and if she thinks proper to come here as she formerly did, to sow divisions and

"Well," replied the young man, firmly, "I will drive Madame de Chevreuse out of my kingdom, and with her

He had not calculated the effect of this terrible speech, or perhaps he wished to judge of the effect of it, like

those who suffering from a chronic pain, and seeking to break the monotony of that suffering, touch their

wound to procure a sharper pang. Anne of Austria was near fainting. Her eyes, open but meaningless, ceased

to see for several seconds; she stretched out her arms towards her other son, who supported and embraced her

without fear of irritating the King. "Sire," murmured she, "you treat your mother cruelly."

"In what, Madame?" replied he. "I am only speaking of Madame de Chevreuse; does my mother prefer

Madame de Chevreuse to the security of the State and to the security of my person? Well, then, Madame, I

tell you Madame de Chevreuse is returned to France to borrow money, and that she addressed herself to M.

"Concerning pretended robberies that Monsieur the Superintendent had committed; which is false," added

Philippe. "M. Fouquet rejected her offers with indignation, preferring the esteem of the King to all complicity

with intriguers. Then Madame de Chevreuse sold the secret to M. Colbert; and as she is insatiable, and was

not satisfied with having extorted a hundred thousand crowns from that clerk, she has sought still higher, and

"Now," continued Philippe, "I have good reason to dislike this fury, who comes to my court to plan the

dishonor of some and the ruin of others. If God has suffered certain crimes to be committed, and has

concealed them in the shade of his clemency, I will not permit Madame de Chevreuse to have the power to

The latter part of this speech had so agitated the QueenMother that her son had pity on her. He took her

hand and kissed it tenderly; she did not perceive that in that kiss, given in spite of repulsions and bitternesses

of the heart, there was a pardon for eight years of horrible suffering. Philippe allowed the silence of a moment

to swallow the emotions that had just developed themselves. Then, with a cheerful smile, "We will not go

today," said he; "I have a plan." And turning towards the door, he hoped to see Aramis, whose absence

"We will put that to rights, and will take nothing of the superintendent but his good qualities."

"What is your Majesty looking for?" said Henrietta, seeing the Prince's eyes constantly turned towards the

door, and wishing to let fly a little poisoned arrow at his heart, for she supposed he was expecting La

"My sister," said the young man, who had divined her thought, thanks to that marvellous perspicuity of which

fortune was from that time about to allow him the exercise, "my sister, I am expecting a most distinguished

man, a most able counsellor, whom I wish to present to you all, recommending him to your good graces Ah!

D'Artagnan remained for an instant stupefied; but soon, reflecting that Aramis had left Vaux secretly with a

mission from the King, he concluded that the King wished to preserve the secret of it, "Sire," replied he,

"Absolutely is not the word," said Philippe, "I do not want him so particularly as that; but if he can be

The old Queen repented of having wished to bite; she broke off the conversation, in order to preserve the rest

of her teeth. "Whatever may be your choice, Sire," said she, "I have no doubt it will be excellent." All bowed

"You will find in him," continued Philippe, "the depth and penetration of M. de Richelieu, without the

"I will tell you all about that, Brother; but it is strange that M. d'Herblay is not here!" He called out, "Let M.

Fouquet be informed that I wish to speak to him Oh, before you, before you; do not retire!"

M. de SaintAignan returned, bringing satisfactory news of the Queen, who only kept her bed from

precaution, and to have strength to carry out all the King's wishes. While some were seeking M. Fouquet and

Aramis, Philippe quietly continued his experiments, and no one of the family, officers, or servants had the

least suspicion; his air, voice, and manners were so like the King's. On his side, Philippe, applying to all

countenances the faithful description furnished by his accomplice Aramis, conducted himself so as not to

Nothing from that time could disturb the usurper. With what strange facility had Providence just reversed the

most elevated fortune of the world to substitute the most humble in its stead! Philippe admired the goodness

of God with regard to himself, and seconded it with all the resources of his admirable nature. But he felt at

times something like a shadow gliding between him and the rays of his new glory. Aramis did not appear.

The conversation had languished in the royal family; Philippe, preoccupied, forgot to dismiss his brother and

Madame Henrietta. The latter were astonished, and began by degrees to lose all patience. Anne of Austria

stooped towards her son's ear, and addressed some word to him in Spanish. Philippe was completely ignorant

of that language, and grew pale at this unexpected obstacle. But as if the spirit of the imperturbable Aramis

had covered him with his infallibility, instead of appearing disconcerted, Philippe rose. "Well! what?" said

"What is all that noise?" said Philippe, turning round towards the door of the second staircase.

"The voice of M. Fouquet," said d'Artagnan, who was standing close to the QueenMother.

But he then saw what he little thought to see so near to him. All eyes were turned towards the door at which

M. Fouquet was expected to enter; but it was not M. Fouquet who entered. A terrible cry resounded from all

corners of the chamber. It is not given to men, even to those whose destiny contains the strangest elements

and accidents the most wonderful, to contemplate a spectacle similar to that which presented itself in the

royal chamber at that moment. The halfclosed shutters admitted the entrance of only an uncertain light,

passing through large velvet curtains lined with silk. In this soft shade the eyes were by degrees dilated, and

every one present saw others rather with faith than with positive sight. In these circumstances, however, not

one of the surrounding details could escape; and any new object which presented itself appeared as luminous

as if it had been enlightened by the sun. So it was with Louis XIV, when he showed himself pale and

frowning in the doorway of the secret stairs. The face of Fouquet appeared behind him, impressed with

sorrow and sternness. The QueenMother, who perceived Louis XIV, and who held the hand of Philippe,

uttered the cry of which we have spoken, as if she had beheld a phantom. Monsieur was bewildered, and kept

turning his head in astonishment from one to the other. Madame made a step forward, thinking she saw the

form of her brotherinlaw reflected in a glass; and, in fact, the illusion was possible.

The two Princes, both pale as death, for we renounce the hope of being able to describe the fearful state of

Philippe, both trembling, and clinching their hands convulsively, measured each other with their looks, and

darted their eyes, like poniards, into each other. Mute, panting, bending forward, they appeared as if about to

spring upon an enemy. The unheardof resemblance of countenance, gesture, shape, height, even of

costume, produced by chance, for Louis XIV had been to the Louvre and put on a violetcolored suit, the

perfect likeness of the two Princes completed the consternation of Anne of Austria. And yet she did not at

once guess the truth. There are misfortunes in life that no one will accept; people would rather believe in the

supernatural and the impossible. Louis had not reckoned upon these obstacles. He expected that he had only

to appear and be acknowledged. A living sun, he could not endure the suspicion of parity with any one. He

did not admit that every torch should not become darkness at the instant he shone out with his conquering

ray. At the aspect of Philippe, then, he was perhaps more terrified than any one round him, and his silence,

his immobility, were this time a concentration and a calm which precede violent explosions of passion.

But Fouquet! who could paint his emotion and stupor in presence of this living portrait of his master! Fouquet

thought Aramis was right, that this newcomer was a King as pure in his race as the other, and that for

having repudiated all participation in this coup d'etat, so skilfully got up by the General of the Jesuits, he

must be a mad enthusiast unworthy of ever again dipping his hands in a political work. And then it was the

blood of Louis XIII which Fouquet was sacrificing to the blood of Louis XIII; it was to a selfish ambition he

was sacrificing a noble ambition; it was to the right of keeping he sacrificed the right of having! The whole

extent of his fault was revealed to him by the simple sight of the pretender. All that passed in the mind of

Fouquet was lost upon the persons present. He had five minutes to concentrate his meditations upon this point

of the case of conscience; five minutes, that is to say, five ages, during which the two Kings and their

D'Artagnan, leaning against the wall in front of Fouquet, with his hand to his brow, asked himself the cause

of such a wonderful prodigy. He could not have said at once why he doubted, but he knew assuredly that he

had reason to doubt, and that in this meeting of the two Louis XIV's lay all the mystery which during late

days had rendered the conduct of Aramis so suspicious to the musketeer. These ideas were, however,

enveloped in thick veils. The actors in this assembly seemed to swim in the vapors of a confused waking.

Suddenly Louis XIV, more impatient and more accustomed to command, ran to one of the shutters, which he

opened, tearing the curtains in his eagerness. A flood of living light entered the chamber, and made Philippe

draw back to the alcove. Louis seized upon this movement with eagerness, and addressing himself to the

Queen, "My mother," said he, "do you not acknowledge your son, since every one here has forgotten his

King?" Anne of Austria started, and raised her arms towards Heaven, without being able to articulate a single

"My mother," said Philippe, with a calm voice, "do you not acknowledge your son?" And this time, in his

As to Anne of Austria, struck in both head and heart with remorse, she was no longer able to stand. No one

aiding her, for all were petrified, she sank back in her fauteuil, breathing a weak, trembling sigh. Louis could

not endure this spectacle and this affront. He bounded towards d'Artagnan, upon whom the vertigo was

beginning to gain, and who staggered as he caught at the door for support. "A moi, mousquestaire!" said he.

This cry roused d'Artagnan, and stirred in his heart the fibre of obedience. He shook his head, and without

more hesitation, he walked straight up to Philippe, upon whose shoulder he laid his hand, saying, "Monsieur,

you are my prisoner!" Philippe did not raise his eyes towards Heaven, nor stir from the spot, where he

seemed nailed to the floor, his eye intently fixed upon the King, his brother. He reproached him by a sublime

silence with all his misfortunes past, with all his tortures to come. Against this language of the soul Louis

XIV felt he had no power; he cast down his eyes, and led away precipitately his brother and sister, forgetting

his mother, sitting motionless within three paces of the son whom she left a second time to be condemned to

death. Philippe approached Anne of Austria, and said to her in a soft and nobly agitated voice, "If I were not

D'Artagnan felt a shudder pass through the marrow of his bones. He bowed respectfully to the young Prince,

and said as he bent, "Excuse me, Monseigneur; I am but a soldier, and my oaths are his who has just left the

"M. d'Herblay is in safety, Monseigneur," said a voice behind them; "and no one, while I live and am free,

"Pardon me, Monseigneur," said Fouquet, kneeling; "but he who is just gone out from hence was my guest."

"Here are," murmured Philippe, with a sigh, "brave friends and good hearts. They make me regret the world.

At the moment the captain of the Musketeers was about to leave the room with his prisoner, Colbert

appeared, and after delivering to d'Artagnan an order from the King, retired. D'Artagnan read the paper, and

"M. d'Artagnan will conduct the prisoner to the ile Ste. Marguerite. He will cover his face with an iron visor,

"Aramis was right," said Fouquet, in a low voice to the musketeer, "this one is quite as much of a King as the

ARAMIS and Porthos, having profited by the time granted them by Fouquet, did honor to the French cavalry

by their speed. Porthos did not clearly understand for what kind of mission he was forced to display so much

velocity; but as he saw Aramis spurring on furiously, he, Porthos, spurred on in the same manner. They had

soon, in this manner, placed twelve leagues between them and Vaux; they were then obliged to change

horses, and organize a sort of post arrangement. It was during a relay that Porthos ventured to interrogate

"Hush!" replied the latter; "know only that our fortune depends upon our speed."

As if Porthos had still been the musketeer of 1626, without a sou or a maille, he pushed forward. The magic

word "fortune" always means something in the human ear. It means enough for those who have nothing; it

"That is possible," replied Aramis, smiling after his own fashion, as the horse of Porthos passed him. The

head of Aramis was, notwithstanding, on fire; the activity of the body had not yet succeeded in subduing that

of the mind. All that there is in raging passions, in severe toothaches, or mortal threats twisted, gnawed, and

groaned in the thoughts of the vanquished prelate. His countenance exhibited very visible traces of this rude

combat. Free upon the highway to abandon himself to every impression of the moment, Aramis did not fail to

swear at every start of his horse, at every inequality in the road. Pale, at times inundated with boiling sweats,

then again dry and icy, he beat his horses and made the blood stream from their sides. Porthos, whose

dominant fault was not sensibility, groaned at this. Thus they travelled on for eight long hours, and then

arrived at Orleans. It was four o'clock in the afternoon. Aramis, searching his recollections, judged that

nothing demonstrated pursuit to be possible. It would be without example that a troop capable of taking him

and Porthos should be furnished with relays sufficient to perform forty leagues in eight hours. Thus,

admitting pursuit, which was not at all manifest, the fugitives were five hours in advance of their pursuers.

Aramis thought that there might be no imprudence in taking a little rest, but that to continue would make the

matter more certain. Twenty leagues more performed with the same rapidity, twenty more leagues devoured,

and no one, not even d'Artagnan, could overtake the enemies of the King. Aramis felt obliged, therefore, to

inflict upon Porthos the pain of mounting on horseback again. They rode on till seven o'clock in the evening,

and had only one post more between them and Blois. But here a diabolical accident alarmed Aramis greatly;

there were no horses at the post. The prelate asked himself by what infernal machination his enemies had

succeeded in depriving him of the means of going farther. He who never recognized chance as a deity, he

who found a cause for every result, he preferred believing that the refusal of the postmaster, at such an hour,

in such a country, was the consequence of an order emanating from above; an order given with a view of

stopping short the kingmaker in the midst of his flight. But at the moment he was about to fly into a passion,

so as to procure either a horse or an explanation, he suddenly recollected that the Comte de la Fere lived in

"I am not travelling," said he; "I do not want horses for a whole stage. Find me two horses to go and pay a

"Oh!" replied the postmaster, uncovering with respect, "a very worthy nobleman. But whatever may be my

desire to make myself agreeable to him, I cannot furnish you with horses, for all mine are engaged by M. le

"Only," continued the postmaster, "if you will put up with a little carriage I have, I will harness an old blind

horse, who has still his legs left, and who will draw you to the house of M. le Comte de la Fere."

"No, Monsieur, that is never worth more than a crown. That is what M. Grimaud, the count's intendant,

always pays me when he makes use of that carriage; and I should not wish the Comte de la Fere to have to

"As you please," said Aramis, "particularly as regards disobliging the Comte de la Fere; you will have your

"Oh, doubtless!" replied the postmaster, with delight; and he himself harnessed the old horse to the creaking

carriage. In the mean time Porthos was curious to behold. He imagined he had discovered the secret, and he

felt pleased, because a visit to Athos in the first place promised him much satisfaction, and in the next, gave

him the hopes of finding at the same time a good bed and a good supper. The master, having got the carriage

ready, ordered one of his men to drive the strangers to La Fere. Porthos took his seat by the side of Aramis,

"You need tell me nothing about it," added the worthy Porthos, endeavoring to place himself so as to avoid

They arrived at Athos's dwelling about nine o'clock in the evening, favored by a splendid moon. This cheerful

light rejoiced Porthos beyond expression; but Aramis appeared annoyed by it in an equal degree. He could

not help showing something of this to Porthos, who replied, "Ay, ay! I guess how it is! the mission is a

These were his last words in the carriage. The driver interrupted him by saying:

Porthos and his companion alighted before the gate of the little chateau, where we are about to meet again

with Athos and Bragelonne, both of whom had disappeared after the discovery of the infidelity of La

If there be one saying more true than another, it is this: great griefs contain within themselves the germ of

their consolation. This painful wound inflicted upon Raoul had drawn him nearer to his father; and God

knows how sweet were the consolations that flowed from the eloquent mouth and generous heart of Athos.

The wound was not healed, but Athos, by dint of conversing with his son and mingling a little of his life with

that of the young man, had brought him to understand that this pang of a first infidelity is necessary to every

Raoul listened often, but never understood. Nothing replaces in the deeply afflicted heart the remembrance

and thought of the beloved object. Raoul replied to the reasonings of his father, "Monsieur, all that you tell

me is true. I believe that no one has suffered in the affections of the heart so much as you have; but you are a

man too great in intelligence, and too severely tried by misfortunes, not to allow for the weakness of the

soldier who suffers for the first time. I am paying a tribute which I shall not pay a second time; permit me to

plunge myself so deeply in my grief that I may forget myself in it, that I may drown in it even my reason."

"Listen, Monsieur. Never shall I accustom myself to the idea that Louise, the most chaste and the most

innocent of women, has been able so basely to deceive a man so honest and so loving as I. Never can I

persuade myself that I see that sweet and good mask change into a hypocritical and lascivious face. Louise

lost! Louise infamous! Ah, Monseigneur, that idea is much more cruel to me than Raoul abandoned, Raoul

Athos then employed the heroic remedy. He defended Louise against Raoul, and justified her perfidy by her

love. "A woman who would have yielded to the King because he is the King," said he, "would deserve to be

styled infamous; but Louise loves Louis. Both young, they have forgotten, he his rank, she her vows. Love

absolves everything, Raoul. The two young people love each other with sincerity."

And when he had dealt this severe poniardthrust, Athos, with a sigh, saw Raoul bound away under the cruel

wound, and fly to the thickest recesses of the wood or the solitude of his chamber, whence, an hour after, he

would return, pale and trembling, but subdued. Then coming up to Athos with a smile he would kiss his hand,

like the dog who having been beaten caresses a good master to redeem his fault. Raoul listened only to his

Thus passed away the days that followed that scene in which Athos had so violently shaken the indomitable

pride of the King. Never, when conversing with his son, did he make any allusion to that scene; never did he

give him the details of that vigorous lecture, which might perhaps have consoled the young man, by showing

him his rival humbled. Athos did not wish that the offended lover should forget the respect due to the King.

And when Bragelonne, ardent, furious, and melancholy, spoke with contempt of royal words, of the

equivocal faith which certain madmen draw from promises falling from thrones; when, passing over two

centuries with the rapidity of a bird which traverses a narrow strait, to go from one world to the other, Raoul

ventured to predict the time in which kings would become less than other men, Athos said to him in his

serene, persuasive voice, "You are right, Raoul. All that you say will happen: kings will lose their privileges,

as stars which have completed their time lose their splendor. But when that moment shall come, Raoul, we

shall be dead. And remember well what I say to you. In this world, all men, women, and kings must live for

This was the manner in which Athos and Raoul were as usual conversing, as they walked backwards and

forwards in the long alley of limes in the park, when the bell which served to announce to the count either the

hour of dinner or the arrival of a visitor, was rung. Mechanically, without attaching any importance to the

summons, he turned towards the house with his son; and at the end of the alley they found themselves in the

RAOUL uttered a cry, and affectionately embraced Porthos. Aramis and Athos embraced like old men; and

this embrace itself was a question for Aramis, who immediately said, "My friend, we have not long to remain

Athos looked silently at Aramis, whose sombre air had already appeared to him very little in harmony with

"What is the good fortune that has happened to you? Let us hear it," said Raoul, with a smile.

"The King has made me a duke," said the worthy Porthos, with an air of mystery, in the ear of the young

But the asides of Porthos were always loud enough to be heard by everybody. His murmurs were in the

diapason of ordinary roaring. Athos heard him, and uttered an exclamation which made Aramis start. The

latter took Athos by the arm, and after having asked Porthos's permission to say a word to his friend in

"In two words. I have raised a conspiracy against the King; that conspiracy has failed, and at this moment I

"That is the subject of my severest pain; that is the deepest of my wounds. I have, believing in an infallible

success, drawn Porthos into my conspiracy. He has thrown himself into it as you know he would do, with all

his strength, without knowing what he was about; and now he is as much compromised as myself, as

"I must make you acquainted with the whole. Listen to me," continued Aramis; and he related the history as

we know it. Athos, during the recital, several times felt the sweat break from his forehead. "It was a great

"And I am a fool for having so ill judged him," said Aramis. "Oh, the wisdom of man! Oh, a vast millstone

which grinds a world, and which is one day stopped by a grain of sand which has fallen, no one knows how,

"I am taking away Porthos. The King will never believe that that worthy man has acted innocently. He never

can believe that Porthos has thought he was serving the King, while acting as he has done. His head would

"To BelleIsle, at first. That is an impregnable place of refuge. Then I have the sea, and a vessel to pass over

"But our excellent Porthos! you ruin him, for the King will confiscate all his property."

"All is provided for. I know how, when once in Spain, to reconcile myself with Louis XIV, and restore

"And while we are on that head," said Aramis, "you also are a malcontent; you also, Raoul, have griefs to lay

to the King. Follow our example; pass over into BelleIsle. Then we shall see. I guarantee upon my honor

that in a month there will be war between France and Spain on the subject of this son of Louis XIII, who is an

Infante likewise, and whom France detains inhumanly. Now, as Louis XIV would have no inclination for a

war on that subject, I will answer for a transaction, the result of which must bring greatness to Porthos and to

me, and a duchy in France to you, who are already a grandee of Spain. Will you join us?"

"No; for my part I prefer having something to reproach the King with. It is a pride natural to my race to

pretend to a superiority over royal races. Doing what you propose, I should become a dependent of the King;

I should certainly be the gainer on that ground, but I should be a loser in my conscience. No, thank you!"

"Oh! I give it you if you have really wished to avenge the weak and the oppressed against the oppressor."

"That is sufficient for me," said Aramis, with a blush which was lost in the obscurity of the night. "And now

give me your best two horses to gain the second post, as I have been refused any under the pretext of a

"You shall have two of my best horses, Aramis; and I again recommend Porthos strongly to you."

"Oh, have no fear on that head. One word more: do you think I am planning wisely for him?"

"The evil being committed, yes; for the King would not pardon him, and you have, whatever may be said,

always a supporter in M. Fouquet, who will not abandon you, being himself compromised, notwithstanding

"You are right. And that is why, instead of gaining the sea at once, which would proclaim my fear and guilt,

that is why I remain upon French ground. But BelleIsle will be for me whatever ground I wish it to be,

English, Spanish, or Roman; all depends on the standard I shall think proper to unfurl."

"It was I who fortified BelleIsle; and while I defend it, nobody can take BelleIsle from me. And then, as

you have said just now, M. Fouquet is there. BelleIsle will not be attacked without the signature of M.

"I again recommend Porthos to you," repeated the count, with a sort of cold persistence.

"Whatever becomes of me, Count," replied Aramis, in the same tone, "our brother Porthos will fare as I do."

Athos bowed while pressing the hand of Aramis, and turned to embrace Porthos with much emotion.

"I was born lucky, was I not?" murmured the latter, transported with happiness, as he folded his cloak round

Raoul had gone out to give orders for the saddling of the horses. The group was already divided. Athos saw

his two friends on the point of departure, and something like a mist passed before his eyes, and weighed upon

"It is strange," thought he, "whence comes the inclination I feel to embrace Porthos once more." At that

moment Porthos turned round, and came towards his old friend with open arms. This last endearment was

tender as in youth, as in times when the heart was warm and life happy; and then Porthos mounted his horse.

Aramis came back once more to throw his arms round the neck of Athos. The latter watched them along the

high road, elongated by the shade, in their white cloaks. Like two phantoms, they seemed to be enlarged on

departing from the earth; and it was not in the mist, but in the declivity of the ground that they disappeared.

At the end of the perspective, both seemed to have given a spring with their feet, which made them vanish as

Then Athos, with an oppressed heart, returned towards the house, saying to Bragelonne, "Raoul, I don't know

what it is that has just told me that I have seen these two men for the last time."

"It does not astonish me, Monsieur, that you should have such a thought," replied the young man, "for I have

at this moment the same, and I also think that I shall never see Messieurs du Vallon and d'Herblay again."

"Oh, you!" replied the count, "you speak like a man rendered sad by another cause, you see everything in

black; but you are young, and if you chance never to see those old friends again, it will be because they no

Raoul shook his head sadly, and leaned upon the shoulder of the count, neither of them finding another word

All at once a noise of horses and voices from the extremity of the road to Blois attracted their attention that

way. Mounted torchbearers shook their torches merrily among the trees of their route, and turned round

from time to time to avoid distancing the horsemen who followed them. These flames, this noise, this dust of

a dozen richly caparisoned horses, formed a strange contrast in the middle of the night with the melancholy,

funereal disappearance of the two shadows of Aramis and Porthos. Athos went towards the house; but he had

hardly reached the parterre when the entrance gate appeared in a blaze; all the flambeaux stopped and

appeared to inflame the road. A cry was heard of "M. le Duc de Beaufort!" and Athos sprang towards the

door of his house. But the duke had already alighted from his horse, and was looking around him.

"Ah, goodevening, dear count," said the Prince, with that frank cordiality which won him so many hearts.

And M. de Beaufort leaning on the arm of Athos, they entered the house, followed by Raoul, who walked

respectfully and modestly among the officers of the Prince, with several of whom he was acquainted.

THE Prince turned around at the moment when Raoul, in order to leave him alone with Athos, was shutting

the door, and preparing to go with the other officers into an adjoining apartment.

"Is that the young man I have heard Monsieur the Prince speak so highly of?" asked M. de Beaufort.

"Ma foi! he is tall and handsome!" continued the duke. "Will you give him to me, Monseigneur, if I ask him

"Why, what you have always been, Monseigneur, a valiant Prince and an excellent gentleman."

"I am going to be an African Prince, a Bedouin gentleman. The King is sending me to make conquests

"Strange, is it not? I, the Parisian par essence, I, who have reigned in the faubourgs, and have been called

King of the Halles, I am going to pass from the Place Maubert to the minarets of Djidgelli; I become from a

"It would not be credible, would it? Believe me, nevertheless, and let us bid each other farewell. This is what

"Yes. You smile? Ah, my dear count, do you know why I have accepted this enterprise; can you guess?"

"Oh, no; there is no glory in firing muskets at savages. I see no glory in that, for my part, and it is more

probable that I shall there meet with something else. But I have wished, and still wish earnestly, my dear

count, that my life should have this last facet, after all the whimsical exhibitions I have made in fifty years.

For, in short, you must admit that it is sufficiently strange to be born the grandson of a king, to have made

war against kings, to have reckoned among the powers of the age, to have maintained my rank, to feel Henry

IV within me, to be great Admiral of France, and then to go and get killed at Djidgelli among all those Turks,

"Monseigneur, you dwell strangely upon that subject," said Athos, in an agitated voice. "How can you

suppose that so brilliant a destiny will be extinguished in that miserable scene?"

"And can you believe, just and simple man as you are, that if I go into Africa for this ridiculous motive, I will

not endeavor to come out of it without ridicule? Will I not give the world cause to speak of me? and to be

spoken of nowadays, when there are Monsieur the Prince, M. de Turenne, and many others, my

contemporaries, I, Admiral of France, grandson of Henry IV, King of Paris, have I anything left but to get

myself killed? Cordieu! I will be talked of, I tell you; I will be killed, whether or not, if not there,

"Why, Monseigneur, this is only exaggeration; and hitherto you have demonstrated nothing of that kind but in

"Peste! my dear friend, there is bravery in facing scurvy, dysentery, locusts, and poisoned arrows, as my

ancestor Saint Louis did. Do you know those fellows still use poisoned arrows? And then, you know me of

old, I fancy; and you know that when I once make up my mind to a thing, I do it in earnest."

"Ay, but you aided me in that, my master; and, a propos, I turn this way and turn that without seeing my old

"M. Vaugrimaud is still your Highness's most respectful servant," said Athos, smiling.

"I have a hundred pistoles here for him, which I bring as a legacy. My will is made, Count."

"And you may understand that if Grimaud's name were to appear in my will" The duke began to laugh; then,

addressing Raoul, who from the beginning of this conversation had sunk into a profound revery, "Young

man," said he, "I know there is to be found here a certain De Vouvray wine, and I believe" Raoul left the

room precipitately to order the wine. In the mean time, M. de Beaufort took the hand of Athos.

"That is all true then, is it? I think I know her, that little Valliere. She is not particularly handsome, if I

"She reminds me of a very agreeable girl whose mother used to live in the Halles."

"Oh, the good old times!" added M. de Beaufort. "Yes, Valliere reminds me of that girl."

"I believe she had," replied the duke, with careless naivete and a complaisant forgetfulness of which no words

could translate the tone and the vocal expression. "Now, here is poor Raoul, who is your son, I believe."

"You are going to let the boy rust in idleness; you are wrong. Come, give him to me!"

"My wish is to keep him at home, Monseigneur. I have no longer anything in the world but him, and as long

"Well, well," replied the duke. "I could, nevertheless, have soon put matters to rights again. I assure you, I

think he has in him the stuff of which marshals of France are made; I have seen more than one produced from

"That is very possible, Monseigneur; but it is the King who makes marshals of France, and Raoul will never

Raoul interrupted this conversation by his return. He preceded Grimaud, whose still steady hands carried the

salver with one glass and a bottle of the duke's favorite wine. On seeing his old protege, the duke uttered an

"Two old friends!" said the duke, shaking honest Grimaud's shoulder after a vigorous fashion, which was

"I should not think of drinking with your Highness, unless your Highness invited me," replied Athos, with

"Cordieu! You were right to bring only one glass; we will both drink out of it, like two brothersinarms.

"You are a charming friend," replied the Duc de Beaufort, who drank and passed the goblet to his companion.

"But that is not all," continued he; "I am still thirsty, and I wish to do honor to this handsome young man who

stands here. I carry good luck with me, Viscount," said he to Raoul; "wish for something while drinking out

He held the goblet to Raoul, who hastily moistened his lips, and replied with the same promptitude, "I have

wished for something, Monseigneur." His eyes sparkled with a gloomy fire, and the blood mounted to his

"And what have you wished for?" replied the duke, sinking back into his armchair, while with one hand he

Athos became pale, and was unable to conceal his agitation. The duke looked at his friend, as if desirous to

"That is difficult, my dear viscount, very difficult," added he, in a lower tone of voice.

"Pardon me, Monseigneur, I have been indiscreet," replied Raoul, in a firm voice; "but as you yourself

"Well, mordieu!" cried the duke, "the young viscount is right! What can he do here? He will rot with grief."

Raoul blushed; and the Prince, excited, continued, "War is a distraction. We gain everything by it; we can

"That is to say, memory," said Raoul, eagerly; "and that is to say, so much the better!"

He repented of having spoken so warmly when he saw Athos rise and open the window, which was

doubtless to conceal his emotion. Raoul sprang towards the count, but the latter had already overcome his

"Well, come," said the duke, "let us see! Shall he go, or shall he not? If he goes, Count, he shall be my

"Monseigneur!" cried Athos, taking the hand of the duke; "Raoul shall do just as he likes."

"Par la corbleu!" said the Prince, in his turn, "it is neither the count nor the viscount that shall have his way,

Raoul smiled again so sadly that this time Athos was wounded to the heart, and replied to him by a severe

look. Raoul comprehended it all; he recovered his calmness, and was so guarded that not another word

escaped him. The duke at length rose, on observing the advanced hour, and said with much animation, "I am

in great haste, but if I am told I have lost time in talking with a friend, I will reply that I have gained a good

"Pardon me, Monsieur the Duke," interrupted Raoul, "do not tell the King so, for it is not the King I will

"Eh, my friend, whom then will you serve? The times are past when you might have said, 'I belong to M. de

Beaufort.' No, nowadays, we all belong to the King, great or small. Therefore, if you serve on board my

vessels, there can be nothing equivocal in it, my dear viscount; it will be the King you will serve."

Athos waited with a kind of impatient joy for the reply about to be made to this embarrassing question by

Raoul, the intractable enemy of the King, his rival. The father hoped that the obstacle would overcome the

desire. He was thankful to M. de Beaufort, whose lightness or generous reflection had thrown an impediment

Raoul, still firm and tranquil, replied, "Monsieur the Duke, the objection you make I have already considered

in my mind. I will serve on board your vessels, because you do me the honor to take me with you; but I shall

"My intention is to make profession, and become a Knight of Malta," added Bragelonne, letting fall one by

one words more icy than the drops which fall from the bare trees after the tempests of winter.

Under this last blow Athos staggered, and the Prince himself was moved. Grimaud uttered a heavy groan, and

let fall the bottle, which was broken without anybody paying attention to it. M. de Beaufort looked the young

man in the face, and read plainly, though his eyes were cast down, the fire of resolution before which

everything must give way. As for Athos, he was too well acquainted with that tender but inflexible soul; he

could not hope to make it deviate from the fatal road it had just chosen. He could only press the hand of the

duke held out to him. "Count, I shall set off in two days for Toulon," said M. de Beaufort. "Will you meet me

"I will have the honor of thanking you there, my Prince, for all your kindnesses," replied the count.

"And be sure to bring the viscount with you, whether he follows me or does not follow me," added the duke;

Having thus thrown a little balm upon the wound of that paternal heart, he pulled the ear of Grimaud, whose

eyes sparkled more than usual, and regained his escort in the parterre. The horses, rested and refreshed, set

off with spirit through this beautiful night, and soon placed a considerable distance between their master and

Athos and Bragelonne were again face to face. Eleven o'clock was striking. The father and son preserved a

profound silence towards each other, where an intelligent observer would have expected cries and tears. But

these two men were of such a nature that all emotion buried itself forever when they had resolved to confine

it to their own hearts. They passed, then, silently and almost breathlessly the hour which preceded midnight.

The clock, by striking, alone pointed out to them how many minutes the painful journey had lasted, which

their souls had made in the immensity of the remembrances of the past and of the fears of the future. Athos

Raoul rose in his turn, and embraced his father. The latter held him clasped to his breast, and said in a

tremulous voice, "In two days you will have left me, then, left me forever, Raoul?"

"Monsieur," replied the young man, "I had formed a determination, that of piercing my heart with my

sword; but you would have thought that cowardly. I have renounced that determination, and therefore we

"Listen to me again, Monsieur, I implore you. If I do not go, I shall die here of grief and love. I know how

long a time I have to live thus. Send me away quickly, Monsieur, or you will see me basely die before your

eyes, in your house; this is stronger than my will, stronger than my endurance; you may plainly see that

within one month I have lived thirty years, and that I approach the end of my life."

"Then," said Athos, coldly, "you go with the intention of getting killed in Africa? Oh, tell me! do not lie!"

Raoul grew deadly pale, and remained silent for two seconds, which were to his father two hours of agony.

Then, all at once, "Monsieur," said he, "I have promised to devote myself to God. In exchange for this

sacrifice which I make of my youth and my liberty, I will only ask of him one thing, and that is to preserve

me for you, because you are the only tie which attaches me to this world. God alone can give me the strength

not to forget that I owe you everything, and that nothing ought to be with me before you."

Athos embraced his son tenderly, and said, "You have just replied to me on the word of honor of an honest

man; in two days we shall be with M. de Beaufort at Paris, and you will then do what will be proper for you

to do. You are free, Raoul; adieu." And he slowly gained his bedroom. Raoul went down into the garden, and

ATHOS lost no more time in combating this immutable resolution. He gave all his attention to preparing,

during the two days the duke had granted him, the proper appointments for Raoul. This labor chiefly

concerned Grimaud, who immediately applied himself to it with the goodwill and intelligence we know he

possessed. Athos gave this worthy servant orders to take the route to Paris when the equipments should be

ready; and to avoid all risk of keeping the duke waiting, or of injury to Raoul if the duke should perceive his

absence, he himself, the day after the visit of M. de Beaufort, set off for Paris with his son.

In the heart of the poor young man it aroused emotions easily to be understood, thus to return to Paris among

all the people who had known and loved him. Every face recalled to him who had endured so much, a

suffering; to him who had loved so much, some circumstance of his love. Raoul, on approaching Paris, felt as

if he were dying. Once in Paris, he really existed no longer. When he reached De Guiche's residence, he was

informed that De Guiche was with Monsieur. Raoul took the road to the Luxembourg, and when arrived,

without suspecting that he was going to the place where La Valliere had lived, he heard so much music and

breathed so many perfumes, he heard so much joyous laughter and saw so many dancing shadows, that if it

had not been for a charitable woman, who perceived him dejected and pale in a doorway, he would have

remained there a few minutes, and then would have gone away never to return. But, as we have said, in the

first antechambers he had stopped, solely to avoid mingling with all those happy existences which he felt

were moving around him in the adjacent salons. And when one of Monsieur's servants, recognizing him, had

asked him if he wished to see Monsieur or Madame, Raoul had scarcely answered him, but had sunk down

upon a bench near the velvet portiere, looking at a clock, which had stopped an hour before. The servant had

passed on, and another, better acquainted with him, had come up and asked Raoul whether he should inform

M. de Guiche of his being there. This name even did not rouse the recollections of poor Raoul. The persistent

servant went on to relate that De Guiche had just invented a new game of lottery, and was teaching it to the

ladies. Raoul, opening his large eyes like the absentminded man in Theophrastus, had made no answer; but

With his head hanging down, his limbs relaxed, his mouth half open for the escape of his sighs, Raoul

remained, thus forgotten, in the antechamber, when all at once a lady's robe passed, rubbing against the doors

of a lateral salon which opened upon the gallery. A lady, young, pretty, and gay, scolding an officer of the

household, entered by that way, and expressed herself with much vivacity. The officer replied in calm but

firm sentences; it was rather a little lovepet than a quarrel of courtiers, and was terminated by a kiss on the

Suddenly, on perceiving Raoul, the lady became silent, and pushing away the officer, "Make your escape,

Malicorne," said she; "I did not think there was any one here. I shall curse you if they have either heard or

Malicorne hastened away. The young lady advanced behind Raoul, and bending her joyous face over him,

"Monsieur is a gallant man," said she, "and no doubt" She here interrupted herself by uttering a cry,

He rose unsteadily and tried to make his way across the slippery mosaic of the floor; but she had

comprehended that savage and cruel grief. She felt that in the flight of Raoul there was an accusation, or at

least a suspicion against herself. A woman, ever vigilant, she did not think she ought to let the opportunity

slip of making a justification; but Raoul, though stopped by her in the middle of the gallery, did not seem

disposed to surrender without a combat. He took it up in a tone so cold and embarrassed that if they had been

thus surprised, the whole court would have had no doubt about the proceedings of Mademoiselle de

"Ah, Monsieur," said she, with disdain, "what you are doing is very unworthy of a gentleman. My heart

inclines me to speak to you; you compromise me by a reception almost uncivil. You are wrong, Monsieur;

Raoul had sworn never to speak of Louise, never even to look at those who might have seen Louise; he was

going into another world that he might never meet with anything Louise had seen, or anything she had

touched. But after the first shock to his pride, after having had a glimpse of Montalais, the companion of

Louise, Montalais, who reminded him of the turret of Blois and the joys of youth, all his reason left him.

"Pardon me, Mademoiselle; it enters not, it cannot enter into my thoughts to be uncivil."

"Do you wish to speak to me?" said she, with the smile of former days. "Well! come somewhere else; for

She looked at the clock doubtingly, then, having reflected, "In my apartment," said she; "we shall have an

hour to ourselves." And taking her course, lighter than a fairy, she ran up to her chamber, followed by Raoul.

Shutting the door, and placing in the hands of her maid the mantle she had held upon her arm, "You were

"You think I was concerned in the plot which brought about your rupture, do you not?"

"Rupture!" said he, with bitterness. "Oh, Mademoiselle, there can be no rupture where there has been no

"Not with love, I know!; but she liked you, and you ought to have married her before you set out for

"You tell me that very much at your ease, Mademoiselle. Do people marry whom they like? You forget that

"Listen," said the young woman, pressing the cold hands of Raoul in her own, "you were wrong in every

"No Viscount," said Montalais, quietly. "Nevertheless, let me tell you that if instead of loving Louise coldly

"Enough, I pray you, Mademoiselle," said Raoul. "I feel that you are all, of both sexes, of a different age from

me. You can laugh, and you can banter agreeably. I, Mademoiselle, I loved Mademoiselle de" Raoul could

not pronounce her name. "I loved her; well! I put faith in her, now I am quits by loving her no longer."

"I know what you mean, Mademoiselle; I am much altered, am I not? Well; do you know why? Because my

face is the mirror of my heart; the inside has changed as you see the outside has."

"I!" exclaimed the young man, with eyes flashing fire; "I! why do you not advise me to marry her? Perhaps

"I see," said Montalais, "that you are not cured, and that Louise has one enemy the more."

"Oh! while she has her lover to protect her, is not that enough? She has chosen him of such a quality that her

enemies cannot prevail against her." But stopping all at once, "And then she has you for a friend,

Mademoiselle," added he, with a shade of irony which did not glide off the cuirass.

"I? Oh, no! I am no longer one of those whom Mademoiselle de la Valliere deigns to look upon; but"

This "but," so big with menaces and storms; this "but," which made the heart of Raoul beat, such griefs did it

presage for her whom lately he loved so dearly, this terrible "but," so significant in a woman like Montalais,

was interrupted by a moderately loud noise, proceeding from the alcove behind the wainscoting. Montalais

turned to listen, and Raoul was already rising, when a lady entered the room quietly by the secret door, which

"Stupid wretch!" murmured Montalais, throwing herself, but too late, before the Princess, "I have been

mistaken in the hour!" She had, however, time to warn the Princess, who was walking towards Raoul.

"M. de Bragelonne, Madame"; and at these words the Princess drew back, uttering a cry in her turn.

"Your royal Highness," said Montalais, with volubility, "is kind enough to think of this lottery, and"

The Princess began to lose countenance. Raoul hastened his departure without yet divining all; but he felt that

he was in the way. Madame was seeking to recover herself, when a closet opened in front of the alcove, and

M. de Guiche issued therefrom, all radiant. The most pale of the four, we must admit, was still Raoul. The

Princess, however, was near fainting, and was obliged to lean upon the foot of the bed for support. No one

ventured to support her. This scene occupied several minutes of terrible silence. But Raoul broke it. He went

up to the count, whose inexpressible emotion made his knees tremble, and taking his hand, "Dear count," said

he, "tell Madame I am too unhappy not to merit my pardon; tell her also that I have loved in the course of my

life, and that horror of the treachery that has been practised on me renders me inexorable for all other

treachery that may be committed around me. This is why, Mademoiselle," said he, smiling, to Montalais, "I

never will divulge the secret of the visits of my friend to your apartment. Obtain from Madame, from

Madame, who is so clement and so generous, obtain her pardon for you whom she has just surprised also.

The Princess felt for a moment the despair which cannot be described; it was repugnant to her,

notwithstanding the exquisite delicacy which Raoul had exhibited, to feel herself at the mercy of an

indiscretion. It was equally repugnant to her to accept the evasion offered by this delicate deception. Agitated,

nervous, she struggled against the double stings of the two troubles. Raoul comprehended her position, and

came once more to her aid. Bending his knee before her, "Madame," said he, in a low voice, "in two days I

shall be far from Paris; in a fortnight I shall be far from France, where I shall never be seen again."

"Into Africa!" cried De Guiche, in his turn. "You, Raoul? Oh, my friend, into Africa, where everybody

dies!" And forgetting everything, forgetting that this very forgetfulness compromised the Princess more

eloquently than his presence, "Ingrate!" said he, "and you have not even consulted me!" And he embraced

Raoul passed his hand over his brow, and said with a smile, "I have been dreaming!" Then warmly to De

Guiche, who by degrees absorbed him, "My friend," said he, "I conceal nothing from you, who are the elected

of my heart. I am going to seek death in yonder country; your secret will not remain in my breast more than a

"Do you know what is my thought, De Guiche? This is it: I shall live more, being buried beneath the earth,

than I have lived for this month past. We are Christians, my friend, and if such suffering were to continue, I

"Not one word more on my account," said Raoul, "but advice to you, dear friend; what I am going to say to

"It is a joy so sweet to me to be able to speak to you thus! Well, then, De Guiche, beware of Montalais."

"And now, when she has ruined her, she would take from her the only thing that renders that woman

"I mean that there is a plot formed against her who is the mistress of the King, a plot formed in the very

"Oh, fear nothing! you are beloved, you are beloved, Guiche; do you feel the value of these three words?

They signify that you can raise your head, that you can sleep tranquilly, that you can thank God every minute

of your life. You are beloved; that signifies that you may hear everything, even the counsel of a friend who

wishes to preserve your happiness. You are beloved, Guiche, you are beloved! You do not endure those

atrocious nights, those nights without end, which, with arid eye and consumed heart, others pass through who

are destined to die. You will live long if you act like the miser who, bit by bit, crumb by crumb, collects and

heaps up diamonds and gold. You are beloved! allow me to tell you what you must do that you may be

De Guiche contemplated for some time this unfortunate young man, half mad with despair, till there passed

through his heart something like remorse at his own happiness. Raoul suppressed his feverish excitement to

assume the voice and countenance of an impassive man. "They will make her whose name I should wish still

to be able to pronounce, they will make her suffer. Swear to me not only that you will not second them in

anything, but that you will defend her, when possible, as I would have done myself."

"And," continued Raoul, "some day when you shall have rendered her a great service, some day when she

shall thank you, promise me to say these words to her: 'I have done you this kindness, Madame, by the warm

"That is all; adieu! I set out tomorrow or the day after for Toulon; if you have a few hours to spare, give

"I am going to meet Monsieur the Count at the house of Planchet, where we shall hope to find M.

"Yes; I wish to embrace him before my departure. He is a brave man, who loves me. Farewell, my friend.

You are expected, no doubt; you will find me, when you wish, at the lodgings of the count. Farewell!"

The two young men embraced. They who might have seen them both thus would not have hesitated to say,

ATHOS, during the visit to the Luxembourg by Raoul, had gone to Planchet's residence to inquire after

d'Artagnan. On arriving at the Rue des Lombards he found the shop of the grocer in great confusion; but it

was not the confusion attending a lucky sale, or that of an arrival of goods. Planchet was not throned, as

usual, upon sacks and barrels. No; a young man with a pen behind his ear, and another with an accountbook

in his hand, were setting down a number of figures, while a third counted and weighed. An inventory was

being taken. Athos, who had no knowledge of commercial matters, felt himself a little embarrassed by the

material obstacles and the majesty of those who were thus employed. He saw several customers sent away,

and asked himself whether he, who came to buy nothing, would not be more properly deemed importunate.

He therefore asked very politely if he could see M. Planchet. The reply, pretty carelessly given, was that M.

Planchet was packing his trunks. These words surprised Athos. "How! his trunks?" said he; "is M. Planchet

"Then, if you please, inform him that M. le Comte de la Fere desires to speak to him for a moment."

At the mention of the count's name, one of the young men, no doubt accustomed to hear it pronounced with

respect, immediately went to inform Planchet. It was at this moment that Raoul, after his painful scene with

Montalais and De Guiche, arrived at the grocer's house. Planchet, as soon as he received the count's message,

"Ah, Monsieur the Count," exclaimed he, "how glad I am to see you! What good star brings you here?"

"My dear Planchet," said Athos, pressing the hand of his son, whose sad look he silently observed, "we are

come to learn of you But in what confusion do I find you! You are as white as a miller; where have you

"Ah, diable! take care, Monsieur; don't come near me till I have well shaken myself."

"It is not with this establishment I concern myself, Monsieur the Count. The rats have robbed me of more

"Monsieur, I have taken a dislike to the city. I don't know whether it is because I am growing old, and, as M.

d'Artagnan one day said, when we grow old we more often think of the things of our youth; but for some time

past I have felt myself attracted towards the country and gardening. I was a countryman formerly"; and

Planchet marked this confession with a somewhat pretentious laugh for a man making profession of humility.

Athos made a gesture of approval, and then added, "You are going to buy an estate, then?"

"A little house at Fontainebleau, with something like twenty acres of land round it."

"But, Monsieur, we are not comfortable here; the cursed dust makes you cough. Corbleu! I should not wish to

Athos did not smile at this little pleasantry which Planchet had aimed at him to try his strength in fashionable

"Yes," said he; "let us have a little talk by ourselves, in your own room, for example. You have a room,

"Upstairs, perhaps?" And Athos, seeing Planchet a little embarrassed, wished to relieve him by going first.

Athos was mistaken in the cause of this hesitation, and attributing it to a fear the grocer might have of

offering humble hospitality, "Never mind, never mind," said he, still going up, "the dwelling of a tradesman

Raoul nimbly preceded him, and entered first. Two cries were heard simultaneously we may say three. One

of these cries dominated over the others; it was uttered by a woman. The other proceeded from the mouth of

Raoul; it was an exclamation of surprise. He had no sooner made it than he shut the door sharply. The third

was from fright; Planchet had uttered it. "I ask your pardon!" added he; "Madame is dressing."

Raoul had, no doubt, seen that what Planchet said was true, for he turned round to go downstairs again.

"Madame?" said Athos. "Oh, pardon me, Planchet, I did not know that you had upstairs"

"Eh, gentlemen! you would not disoblige me by thus standing on the staircase, or by going away without

"If we had known you had a lady upstairs," replied Athos, with his customary coolness, "we would have

Planchet was so disconcerted by this little extravagance that he forced the passage, and himself opened the

door to admit the count and his son. Truchen was quite dressed, costume of the shopkeeper's wife, rich and

coquettish; German eyes attacking French eyes. She ceded the apartment after two courtesies, and went down

into the shop, but not without having listened at the door, to know what Planchet's gentlemen visitors would

say of her. Athos suspected that, and therefore turned the conversation. Planchet, on his part, was burning to

give explanations, which Athos avoided. But as certain tenacities are stronger than all others, Athos was

forced to hear Planchet recite his idyls of felicity, translated into a language more chaste than that of Longus.

So Planchet related how Truchen had charmed his ripe age, and brought good luck to his business, as Ruth

"Humph! you must have one, then," said Athos, phlegmatically; "if only to prevent your little fortune being

The words "little fortune" placed Planchet in his rank, like the voice of the sergeant when Planchet was but a

piqueur in the regiment of Piedmont, in which Rochefort had placed him. Athos perceived that the grocer

would marry Truchen, and, in spite of fate, establish a family. This appeared the more evident to him when he

learned that the young man to whom Planchet was selling his business was her cousin. Having heard all that

was necessary of the happy prospects of the retiring grocer, Athos inquired, "What is M. d'Artagnan about?

"Whenever M. d'Artagnan disappears, it is always on some mission or for some great affair."

"Well, well; neither your affairs nor those of our friend are in question. The interest we take in him alone has

induced me to apply to you. Since the captain of the Musketeers is not here, and as we cannot learn from you

where we are likely to find M. d'Artagnan, we will take our leave of you. Au revoir, Planchet, au revoir. Let

This word "servant" struck rudely on the ears of the demimillionnaire Planchet, but natural respect and

bonhomie prevailed over pride. "There is nothing indiscreet in telling you, Monsieur the Count, that M.

"And the chart is there as a proof," added Planchet, who went to fetch from the neighboring wall, where it

was suspended by a twist, forming a triangle with the bar of the window to which it was fastened, the plan

consulted by the captain on his last visit to Planchet. This plan, which he brought to the count, was a map of

France, upon which the practised eye of that gentleman discovered an itinerary, marked out with small pins;

where the pin was missing, a hole denoted its having been there. Athos, by following with his eye the pins

and holes, saw that d'Artagnan was to take the direction of the south, and go as far as the Mediterranean

towards Toulon. It was near Cannes that the marks and the punctured places ceased. The Comte de la Fere

puzzled his brains for some time to divine what the musketeer could be going to do at Cannes, and what

motive could have led him to examine the banks of the Var. The reflections of Athos suggested nothing; his

accustomed perspicacity was at fault. Raoul's researches were not more successful than his father's.

"Never mind," said the young man to the count, who silently, and with his finger, had made him understand

d'Artagnan's route; "we must confess that there is a Providence always occupied in connecting our destiny

with that of M. d'Artagnan. There he is on the coast of Cannes; and you, Monsieur, will at least conduct me

as far as Toulon. Be assured that we shall meet with him more easily upon our route than upon this map."

Then taking leave of Planchet, who was scolding his shopmen, even the cousin of Truchen, his successor,

the gentlemen set out to pay a visit to M. de Beaufort. On leaving the grocer's shop, they saw a coach, the

future depository of the charms of Mademoiselle Truchen and of Planchet's bags of crowns.

"Every one journeys towards happiness by the route he chooses," said Raoul, in a melancholy tone.

TO HAVE talked of d'Artagnan with Planchet, to have seen Planchet quit Paris to bury himself in his country

retreat, had been for Athos and his son like a last farewell to the noise of the capital, to their life of former

days. What, in fact. did these men leave behind them, one of whom had exhausted the past age in glory, and

the other the present age in misfortune? Evidently, neither of them had anything to ask of his contemporaries.

They had only to pay a visit to M. de Beaufort, and arrange with him the particulars of the departure. The

duke was lodged magnificently in Paris. He had one of those superb establishments pertaining to great

fortunes which certain old men remembered to have seen flourish in the times of wasteful liberality in Henry

III's reign. Then, in fact, several great nobles were richer than the King. They knew it; they made use of their

wealth, and never deprived themselves of the pleasure of humiliating his royal Majesty when they had an

opportunity. It was this egotistical aristocracy which Richelieu had constrained to contribute, with its blood,

its purse, and its duties, to what was from his time styled the King's service. From Louis XI that terrible

mower down of the great to Richelieu, how many families had raised their heads! How many from

Richelieu to Louis XIV had bowed their heads never to raise them again! But M. de Beaufort was born a

Prince, and of a blood which is not shed upon scaffolds, unless by the decree of peoples. This Prince had kept

up a grand style of living. How did he maintain his horses, his people, and his table? Nobody knew, himself

less than others. Only there were then privileges for the sons of kings, to whom nobody refused to become a

creditor, whether from respect, devotedness, or a persuasion that they would some day be paid.

Athos and Raoul found the mansion of the duke in as much confusion as that of Planchet. The duke, likewise,

was making his inventory; that is to say, he was distributing to his friends, all of them his creditors,

everything of value he had in his house. Owing nearly two millions, an enormous amount in those days,

M. de Beaufort had calculated that he could not set out for Africa without a good round sum; and in order to

find that sum, he was distributing to his old creditors plate, arms, jewels, and furniture, which was more

magnificent than selling it, and brought him back double. In fact, how could a man to whom ten thousand

livres were owing, refuse to carry away a present of six thousand, enhanced in merit from having belonged to

a descendant of Henry IV? And how, after having carried away that present, could he refuse ten thousand

This, then, was what had happened. The duke had no longer a dwellinghouse, that had become useless to

an admiral, whose place of residence is his ship; no more private arms, superfluous now that he was placed

amid his cannon; no more jewels, which the sea might rob him of; but he had three or four hundred thousand

crowns in his coffers. And throughout the house there was a joyous movement of people who believed they

The Prince possessed, in a supreme degree, the art of making happy the creditors the most to be pitied. Every

distressed man, every empty purse, found with him patience and intelligence of his position. To some he said,

"I wish I had what you have, I would give it to you"; and to others, "I have but this silver ewer, it is worth at

least five hundred livres, take it." The effect of which was so truly is courtesy a current payment that the

This time he used no ceremony, it might be called a general pillage. He gave up everything. The Oriental

fable of the poor Arab, who carried away from the pillage of a palace a kettle at the bottom of which was

concealed a bag of gold, and whom everybody allowed to pass without jealousy, this fable had become a

truth in the Prince's mansion. Many contractors paid themselves from the several departments of the

establishment. Thus, the food purveyors, who plundered the clothespresses and the harnessrooms, attached

very little value to things which tailors and saddlers set great store by. Anxious to carry home to their wives

preserves given them by Monseigneur, many were seen bounding joyously along under the weight of earthen

jars and bottles, gloriously stamped with the arms of the Prince. M. de Beaufort finished by giving away his

horses and the hay from his lofts. He made more than thirty happy with kitchen utensils, and thirty more, with

the contents of his cellar. Still further, all these people went away with the conviction that M. de Beaufort

only acted in this manner to prepare for a new fortune concealed beneath the Arab tents. They repeated to one

another, while devastating his mansion, that he was sent to Djidgelli by the King to reconstruct his lost

fortunes; that the treasures of Africa would be equally divided between the Admiral and the King of France;

that these treasures consisted in mines of diamonds, or other fabulous stones, the gold and silver mines of

Mount Atlas did not even obtain the honor of being named. In addition to the mines to, be worked, which

could not be begun till after the campaign, there would be the booty made by the army. M. de Beaufort

would lay his hands upon all the riches pirates had robbed Christendom of since the battle of Lepanto. The

number of millions from these sources defied calculation. Why, then, should he who was going in quest of

such treasures set any store by the poor utensils of his past life? And, reciprocally, why should they spare the

Such was the position of affairs. Athos, with his searching glance, saw what was going on at once. He found

the Admiral of France a little exalted, for he was rising from a table of fifty covers, at which the guests had

drunk long and deeply to the prosperity of the expedition; at which, with the dessert, the remains of the meal

had been given to the servants, and the empty dishes and plates to the curious. The Prince was intoxicated

with his ruin and his popularity at the same time. He had drunk his old wine to the health of his future wine.

When he saw Athos and Raoul, "There is my aidedecamp brought to me!" he cried. "Come hither, Count;

come hither, Viscount." Athos tried to find a passage through the heaps of linen and plate.

"Ah, step over, step over!" said the duke, offering a full glass to Athos. The latter took it; Raoul scarcely

"Here is your commission," said the Prince to Raoul. "I had prepared it, reckoning upon you. You will go on

"Here is the order"; and De Beaufort gave Raoul the order. "Do you know anything of the sea?"

"That is well. All these barges and lighters must be in attendance to form an escort, and carry my provisions.

"The present order gives you the right to visit and search all the isles along the coast; you will there make the

"And as you are an active man, and will work freely, you will spend much money."

"But I reckon you will. My intendant has prepared orders of a thousand livres, drawn upon the cities of the

south; he will give you a hundred of them. Now, dear Viscount, begone!" Athos interrupted the Prince. "Keep

your money, Monseigneur; war is to be made among the Arabs with gold as well as lead."

"I wish to try the contrary," replied the duke; "and then, you are acquainted with my ideas upon the

expedition, plenty of noise, plenty of fire, and, if so it must be, I shall disappear in the smoke." Having

spoken thus, M. de Beaufort began to laugh; but his mirth was not reciprocated by Athos and Raoul. He

perceived this at once. "Ah," said he, with the courteous egotism of his rank and his age, "you are such people

as a man should not see after dinner; you are cold, stiff, and dry, when I am all fire, all suppleness, and all

wine. No, devil take me! I shall always see you fasting, Viscount; and you, Count, if you wear such a face as

He said this, pressing the hand of Athos, who replied with a smile, "Monseigneur, do not talk so grandly

because you happen to have plenty of money. I predict that within a month you will be dry, stiff, and cold in

presence of your strong box, and that then, having Raoul at your elbow, fasting, you will be surprised to see

him gay, animated, and generous, because he will have some new crowns to offer you."

"No, I shall go with Raoul; the mission with which you charge him is a troublesome and a difficult one.

Alone, it would be too much for him to execute. You do not observe, Monseigneur, that you have given him a

"That may be true. But when people resemble him, do they not do all that is required of them?"

"Monseigneur, I believe you will find nowhere so much zeal and intelligence, so much real bravery, as in

Raoul; but if he failed in your embarkation, you would only meet with what you deserve."

"Prince, to provision a fleet, to assemble a flotilla, to enroll your maritime force, would take an admiral a

"To be sure you will, I reckoned upon you; and still further, I believe that when we are once at Toulon you

"Here is an expedition admirably begun!" said Athos to his son. "No provisions, no reserves, no store flotilla!

"Humph!" murmured Raoul; "if all are going to do as I am, provisions will not be wanted."

"Monsieur," replied Athos, sternly, "do not be unjust and senseless in your egotism, or your grief, whichever

you please to call it. If you set out for this war solely with the intention of getting killed in it, you stand in

need of nobody, and it was scarcely worth while to recommend you to M. de Beaufort. But when you have

been introduced to the Prince commandant; when you have accepted the responsibility of a post in his army,

the question is no longer about you, but about all those poor soldiers who as well as you have hearts and

bodies, who will weep for their country and endure all the necessities of their human condition. Remember,

Raoul, that an officer is a minister as useful as a priest, and that he ought to have more charity than a priest."

"Monsieur, I know it, and have practised it; I would have continued to do so still, but"

"You forget also that you are of a country which is proud of its military glory; go and die if you like, but do

not die without honor and without advantage to France. Cheer up, Raoul! do not let my words grieve you; I

"I love your reproaches, Monsieur," said the young man, mildly; "they alone may cure me, because they

"And now, Raoul, let us be off, the weather is so fine, the heavens are so pure, those heavens which we shall

always find above our heads, which you will see more pure still at Djidgelli, and which will speak to you of

The two gentlemen, after having agreed on this point, talked over the wild freaks of the duke, convinced that

France would be served in a very incomplete manner, as regarded both spirit and practice, in the ensuing

expedition; and having summed up his policy under the word "vanity," they set forward, in obedience to their

THE journey passed off pretty well. Athos and his son traversed France at the rate of fifteen leagues per day;

sometimes more, according to the intensity of Raoul's grief. It took them a fortnight to reach Toulon, and they

lost all traces of d'Artagnan at Antibes. They were forced to believe that the captain of the Musketeers was

desirous of preserving an incognito on his route, for Athos derived from his inquiries an assurance that such a

cavalier as he described had exchanged his horse for a wellclosed carriage on quitting Avignon.

Raoul was much affected at not meeting with d'Artagnan. His affectionate heart longed to take a farewell and

receive consolation from that heart of steel. Athos knew from experience that d'Artagnan became

impenetrable when engaged in any serious affair, whether on his own account or in the service of the King.

He even feared to offend his friend, or thwart him, by too pressing inquiries. And yet when Raoul began his

labor of classing the flotilla, and got together the chalands and lighters to send them to Toulon, one of the

fishermen told the count that his boat had been laid up to refit since a trip he had made on account of a

gentleman who was in great haste to embark. Athos, believing that this man was telling a falsehood in order

to be left at liberty to fish, and so gain more money when all his companions were gone, insisted upon having

The fisherman informed him that six days previously a man had come in the night to hire his boat, for the

purpose of visiting the Island of St. Honorat. The price was agreed upon; but the gentleman had arrived with

an immense carriagecase, which he insisted upon embarking in spite of all the difficulties which opposed

themselves to that operation. The fisherman had wished to retract; he had even threatened, but his threats had

procured him nothing but a shower of blows from the gentleman's cane, which fell upon his shoulders, sharp

and long. Swearing and grumbling, he had recourse to the syndic of his brotherhood at Antibes, who

administer justice among themselves and protect one another; but the gentleman had exhibited a certain

paper, at the sight of which the syndic, bowing to the very ground, had enjoined obedience upon the

fisherman, and abused him for having been refractory. They then departed with the freight.

"This is the way. I was steering towards St. Honorat as the gentleman had desired me; but he changed his

"Because, Monsieur, there is in front of the square tower of the Benedictines, towards the southern point, the

"Level with the water, and below it; a dangerous passage, but one I have cleared a thousand times. The

"Well, Monsieur!" cried the fisherman, with his provencal accent, "a man is a sailor, or he is not; he knows

his course, or he is nothing but a freshwater lubber. I was obstinate, and wished to try the channel. The

gentleman took me by the collar, and told me quietly he would strangle me. My mate armed himself with a

hatchet, and so did I: we had the affront of the night before to pay him off for. But the gentleman drew his

sword, and used it in such an astonishingly rapid manner that we neither of us could get near him. I was about

to hurl my hatchet at his head, and I had a right to do so, hadn't I, Monsieur? for a sailor aboard is master, as

a citizen is in his chamber, I was going, then, in selfdefence, to cut the gentleman in two, when all at once

(believe me or not, Monsieur) the great carriagecase opened of itself, I don't know how, and there came out

of it a sort of a phantom, his head covered with a black helmet and a black mask, something terrible to look

"That was the Devil, Monsieur, for the gentleman, with great glee, cried out on seeing him, 'Ah, thank you,

"You must know, Monsieur, that two poor men like us were already too few to fight against two gentlemen;

but against the Devil, ah! Well, we didn't stop to consult each other, we made but one jump into the sea, for

"Why, and then, Monseigneur, as there was a little wind from the southwest, the boat drifted into the sands of

"Bah! you need not be uneasy about them! It was pretty plain that one was the Devil, and protected the

other, for when we recovered the boat, after she got afloat again, instead of finding these two creatures

"Very strange! very strange!" repeated the count. "But since that what have you done, my friend?"

"I made my complaint to the governor of Ste. Marguerite, who brought my finger under my nose while telling

"Yes, Monsieur; and yet my boat was injured, seriously injured, for the prow is left upon the point of Ste.

"We will go to Ste. Marguerite, shall we?" said the count to Bragelonne, as the man walked away.

"Yes, Monsieur, for there is something to be cleared up; that man does not seem to me to have told the truth."

"Nor to me, Raoul. The story of the masked man and the carriagecase having disappeared may be told to

conceal some violence these fellows have committed upon their passenger in the open sea, to punish him for

"I formed the same suspicion; the carriagecase was more likely to contain property than a man."

"We shall see to that, Raoul. This gentleman very much resembles d'Artagnan; I recognize his mode of

proceeding. Alas! we are no longer the young invincibles of former days. Who knows whether the hatchet or

the iron bar of this miserable coaster has not succeeded in doing that which the best blades of Europe, balls,

That same day they set out for Ste. Marguerite's, on board a chassemaree come from Toulon under orders.

The impression they felt on landing was a singularly pleasing one. The isle was full of flowers and fruits. In

its cultivated part it served as a garden for the governor. Orange, pomegranate, and fig trees bent beneath the

weight of their golden or purple fruits. All around this garden, in the uncultivated parts, the red partridges ran

about in coveys among the brambles and tufts of junipers, and at every step of the count and Raoul a terrified

rabbit quitted his thyme and heath to scuttle away to his burrow. In fact, this fortunate isle was uninhabited.

Flat, offering nothing but a tiny bay for the convenience of embarkation, under the protection of the governor,

who went shares with them, smugglers made use of it as a provisional entrepot, under condition of not killing

the game or devastating the garden. With this compromise, the governor was in a situation to be satisfied with

a garrison of eight men to guard his fortress, in which twelve cannon accumulated their coats of mouldy

green. The governor was a sort of happy farmer, harvesting wines, figs, oil, and oranges, preserving his

citrons and cedrats in the sun of his casemates. The fortress, encircled by a deep ditch, its only guardian,

raised like three heads its three turrets connected with one another by terraces covered over with moss.

Athos and Raoul wandered for some time round the fences of the garden without finding any one to introduce

them to the governor. They ended by making their own way into the garden. It was at the hottest time of the

day. Everything sought shelter beneath grass or stone. The heavens spread their fiery veils as if to stifle all

noises, to envelop all existences; the rabbit under the broom, the fly under the leaf, slept as the wave did

beneath the heavens. Athos saw nothing living but a soldier upon the terrace beneath the second and third

courts, who was carrying a basket of provisions on his head. This man returned almost immediately without

his basket, and disappeared in the shade of his sentrybox. Athos supposed this man must have been carrying

dinner to some one, and after having done so, returned to dine himself. All at once they heard some one call

out, and raising their heads, perceived in the frame of the bars of the window something of a white color, like

a hand that was waved backwards and forwards, something shining, like a polished weapon struck by the

rays of the sun. And before they were able to ascertain what it was they saw, a luminous train accompanied

by a hissing sound in the air called their attention from the donjon to the ground. A second dull noise was

heard from the ditch, and Raoul ran to pick up a silver plate which was rolling along the dry sand. The hand

which had thrown this plate made a sign to the two gentlemen and then disappeared. Athos and Raoul,

approaching each other, began an attentive examination of the dusty plate; and they discovered, in characters

traced upon the bottom of it with the point of a knife, this inscription: I AM THE BROTHER OF THE

The plate fell from the hands of Athos while Raoul was endeavoring to make out the meaning of these dismal

words. At the same instant they heard a cry from the top of the donjon. As quick as lightning Raoul bent

down his head, and forced down that of his father likewise. A musketbarrel glittered from the crest of the

wall. A white smoke floated like a plume from the mouth of the musket, and a ball was flattened against a

stone within six inches of the two gentlemen. Another musket appeared, which was aimed at them.

"Cordieu!" cried Athos. "What! are people assassinated here? Come down, cowards as you are!"

One of the assailants he who was about to fire replied to these cries by an exclamation of surprise; and as

his companion, who wished to continue the attack, had reseized his loaded musket, he who had cried out

threw up the weapon, and the ball flew into the air. Athos and Raoul, seeing them disappear from the

platform, expected that they would come to them, and waited with a firm demeanor. Five minutes had not

elapsed when a stroke upon a drum called the eight soldiers of the garrison to arms, and they showed

themselves on the other side of the ditch with their muskets in hand. At the head of these men was an officer,

whom Athos and Raoul recognized as the one who had fired the first musket. The man ordered the soldiers to

"We are going to be shot!" cried Raoul; "but, sword in hand, at least let us leap the ditch. We shall certainly

And suiting the action to the word, Raoul was springing forward, followed by Athos, when a wellknown

"Recover arms! Mordioux!" cried the captain to the soldiers. "I was sure I could not be mistaken!"

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Athos. "What! were we to be shot without warning?"

"It was I who was going to shoot you; and if the governor missed you, I should not have missed you, my dear

friends. How fortunate it is that I am accustomed to take a long aim, instead of firing at the instant I raise my

weapon! I thought I recognized you. Oh, my dear friends, how fortunate!" and d'Artagnan wiped his brow,

"How!" said Athos; "and is the gentleman who fired at us the governor of the fortress?"

And d'Artagnan, with all the marks of mortal alarm, seized the plate to read the inscription. When he had read

it, a fearful pallor spread over his countenance. "Oh, good heavens!" repeated he. "Silence! here is the

"Silence, I tell you, silence! If he only believes you can read, if he only suspects you have understood I love

"But I could not save you from perpetual imprisonment, if I saved you from death. Silence, then! silence

The governor came up, having crossed the ditch upon a plank bridge. "Well," said he to d'Artagnan, "what

"You are Spaniards; you do not understand a word of French," said the captain, eagerly to his friends in a low

"Well!" replied he, addressing the governor, "I was right; these gentlemen are two Spanish captains with

"Ah!" said the governor, sharply. "And yet they were trying to read the inscription on the plate."

D'Artagnan took it out of his hands, effacing the characters with the point of his sword.

"It is a state secret," replied d'Artagnan, bluntly; "and as you know that according to the King's orders it is

under the penalty of death that any one should penetrate it, I will, if you like, allow you to read it and have

During this apostrophe half serious, half ironical Athos and Raoul preserved the coolest, most unconcerned

"But, is it possible," said the governor, "that these gentlemen do not comprehend at least some words?"

"Suppose they do! If they do understand a few spoken words it does not follow that they should understand

what is written. They cannot even read Spanish. A noble Spaniard, remember, ought never to know how to

The governor was obliged to be satisfied with these explanations; but he was still tenacious. "Invite these

"That I will willingly do. I was about to propose it to you." The fact is, the captain had quite another idea, and

would have wished his friends a hundred leagues off. But he was obliged to make the best of it. He addressed

the two gentlemen in Spanish, giving them a polite invitation, which they accepted. They all turned towards

the entrance of the fort, and the incident being exhausted, the eight soldiers returned to their delightful

WHEN they had entered the fort, and while the governor was making some preparations for the reception of

his guests, "Come," said Athos, "let us have a word of explanation while we are alone."

"It is simply this," replied the musketeer. "I have conducted hither a prisoner, who the King commands shall

not be seen. You came here; he has thrown something to you through the lattice of his window. I was at

dinner with the governor; I saw the object thrown, and I saw Raoul pick it up. It does not take long to

understand this. I understood it; and I thought you in intelligence with my prisoner. And then"

"Ma foi! I admit it; but if I was the first to seize a musket, fortunately I was the last to take aim at you."

"If you had killed me, d'Artagnan, I should have had the good fortune to die for the royal house of France;

and it would be an honor to die by your hand, you, its noblest and most loyal defender."

"What the devil, Athos, do you mean by the royal house?" stammered d'Artagnan. "You don't mean that you,

a wellinformed and sensible man, can place any faith in the nonsense written by an idiot?"

"With the more reason, my dear chevalier, for your having orders to kill all those who do believe in it," said

"That is because," replied the captain of the Musketeers, "because every calumny, however absurd it may

"No, d'Artagnan," replied Athos, in a low tone; "but because the King is not willing that the secret of his

family should transpire among the people, and cover with shame the executioners of the son of Louis XIII."

"Do not talk in such a childish manner, Athos, or I shall begin to think you have lost your senses. Besides,

explain to me how it is possible Louis XIII should have a son in the Isle of Ste. Marguerite?"

"A son whom you have brought hither masked, in a fishingboat," said Athos. "Why not?"

D'Artagnan was brought to a pause. "Ah, ah!" said he; "whence do you know that a fishingboat"

"Brought you to Ste. Marguerite with the carriagecase containing the prisoner, with a prisoner whom you

styled Monseigneur. Oh, I am acquainted with all that," resumed the count. D'Artagnan bit his mustache.

"If it were true," said he, "that I had brought hither in a boat and with a carriage a masked prisoner, nothing

"After his discomfiture at Vaux, yes. I have seen Aramis, a fugitive, pursued, ruined; and Aramis has told me

enough to make me believe in the complaints that this unfortunate young man inscribed upon the silver

D'Artagnan's head sunk upon his breast with confusion. "This is the way," said he, "in which God turns to

nothing that which men call their wisdom! A fine secret must that be of which twelve or fifteen persons hold

the tattered fragments! Athos, cursed be the chance which has brought you face to face with me in this affair!

"Well," said Athos, with his customary mild severity, "is your secret lost because I know it? Consult your

"You have never borne one so dangerous," replied d'Artagnan, in a tone of sadness. "I have something like a

sinister idea that all who are concerned with this secret will die, and die unfortunately."

D'Artagnan and his friends immediately resumed their parts. The governor, suspicious and hard, behaved

towards d'Artagnan with a politeness almost amounting to obsequiousness. With respect to the travellers, he

contented himself with offering them good cheer, and never taking his eye from them. Athos and Raoul

observed that he often tried to embarrass them by sudden attacks, or to catch them off their guard; but neither

the one nor the other gave him the least advantage. What d'Artagnan had said was probable, if the governor

"What is this man's name? I don't like the looks of him," said Athos to d'Artagnan, in Spanish.

"My friend, I am in the situation of a man who finds a treasure in the midst of a desert. He would like to carry

it away, but he cannot; he would like to leave it, but he dare not. The King will not dare to recall me, for fear

no one else would serve him as faithfully as I; he regrets not having me near him, from being aware that no

one will be of so much service near his person as myself. But it will happen as it may please God."

"But," observed Raoul, "your not being certain proves that your situation here is provisional, and you will

"Ask these gentlemen," interrupted the governor, "what was their purpose in coming to Ste. Marguerite."

"They came because they had heard that there was a convent of Benedictines at St. Honorat which is

considered curious; and from being told there was excellent shooting in the island."

M. de SaintMars went to make his rounds, and left d'Artagnan alone with the pretended Spaniards.

"Oh!" exclaimed the musketeer, "here is a life with a society that suits me but little. I command this man; and

he bores me, mordioux! Come, let us have a shot or two at the rabbits; the walk will be beautiful, and not

fatiguing. The isle is but a league and a half in length, upon a breadth of a league, a real park. Let us try to

"As you please, d'Artagnan; not for the sake of amusing ourselves, but to gain an opportunity for talking

D'Artagnan made a sign to a soldier, who brought the gentlemen some guns, and then returned to the fort.

"And now," said the musketeer, "answer me the question put to you by that blacklooking SaintMars. What

While the two friends were beginning their conversation, Raoul, with his head hanging down and his heart

oppressed, seated himself on a mossy rock, his gun across his knees, looking at the sea, looking at the

heavens, and listening to the voice of his soul; he allowed the sportsmen to attain a considerable distance

"Oh! your fears exaggerate, I hope. Raoul is of a fine nature. Around all hearts so noble as his there is a

"Mordioux!" said d'Artagnan, in a melancholy tone; and he did not add a word to this exclamation. Then, a

"You know one thing," continued the count, leaning upon the arm of the captain, "you know that in the

course of my life I have been afraid of but few things. Well! I have an incessant, gnawing, insurmountable

fear that a day will arrive in which I shall hold the dead body of that boy in my arms."

"He will die, I know, I have a conviction of that; but I would not see him die."

"How is this, Athos? you come and place yourself in the presence of the bravest man you say you have ever

seen, of your own d'Artagnan, of that man without an equal, as you formerly called him, and you come and

tell him with your arms folded that you are afraid of witnessing the death of your son, you who have seen all

that can be seen in this world! Why have you this fear, Athos? Man upon this earth must expect everything,

"Listen to me, my friend. After having worn myself out upon this earth of which you speak, I have preserved

but two religions: that of life, my friendships, my duty as a father; that of eternity, love and respect for

God. Now, I have within me the revelation that if God should decree that my friend or my son should render

"I am strong against everything, except against the death of those I love. For that only there is no remedy. He

who dies, gains; he who sees others die, loses. No; this it is, to know that I should no more meet upon earth

him whom I now behold with joy; to know that there would nowhere be a d'Artagnan any more, nowhere

again be a Raoul, oh! I am old, see you, I have no longer courage. I pray God to spare me in my weakness;

but if he struck me so plainly and in that fashion, I should curse him. A Christian gentleman ought not to

"D'Artagnan, my friend, you who love Raoul, look at him," he added, pointing to his son; "see that

melancholy which never leaves him. Can you imagine anything more dreadful than to witness, minute by

"Doubtless. Do you think this would be the first time a woman had repented of an infidelity? I will go to him,

Athos shook his head, and continued his walk alone. D'Artagnan, cutting across the brambles, rejoined Raoul,

"Pray, what virtue do you attribute to a letter which your speech might not possess?"

"She loves the King," said d'Artagnan, bluntly; "and she is an honest girl." Raoul started. "And you, you

whom she abandons," added the captain, "she perhaps loves better than she does the King, but after another

"To idolatry. Her heart is inaccessible to any other feeling. You might continue to live near her, and would be

"Ah!" exclaimed Raoul, with a passionate burst of repugnance for such a painful hope.

"That is a very absurd word, which would lead me to think slightly of your understanding. Please to

understand, Raoul, that it is never base to do that which is imposed by a superior force. If your heart says to

you, 'Go there, or die,' why, go there, Raoul. Was she base or brave, she whom you loved, in preferring the

King to you, the King whom her heart commanded her imperiously to prefer to you? No, she was the

bravest of women. Do, then, as she has done. Obey yourself. Do you know one thing of which I am sure,

"Frankly," replied the musketeer, "that is a conclusion which I was far from expecting."

"This is what I wish, my friend. You will see her again, and you will give her a letter which, if you think

proper, will explain to her as to yourself what is passing in my heart. Read it; I prepared it last night.

Something told me I should see you today." He held the letter out, and d'Artagnan read it:

"MADEMOISELLE: You are not wrong in my eyes in not loving me. You have only been guilty of one fault

towards me, that of having left me to believe you loved me. This error will cost me my life. I pardon you;

but I cannot pardon myself. It is said that happy lovers are deaf to the complaints of rejected lovers. It will not

be so with you who did not love me except with anxiety. I am sure that if I had persisted in endeavoring to

change that friendship into love, you would have yielded through fear of bringing about my death, or of

lessening the esteem I had for you. It is much more delightful to me to die, knowing you are free and

satisfied. How much, then, will you love me when you will no longer fear either my presence or my

reproaches! You will love me, because, however charming a new love may appear to you, God has not made

me in anything inferior to him you have chosen, and because my devotedness, my sacrifice, and my painful

end will assure me, in your eyes, a certain superiority over him. I have allowed to escape, in the candid

credulity of my heart, the treasure I possessed. Many people tell me that you loved me to such a degree that

you might have come to love me much. That idea takes from my mind all the bitterness, and leads me only to

blame myself. You will accept this last farewell, and you will bless me for having taken refuge in the

inviolable asylum where all hatred is extinguished, and where all love endures forever. Adieu, Mademoiselle.

If your happiness could be purchased by the last drop of my blood, I would shed that drop. I willingly make

"The letter is very well," said the captain. "I have only one fault to find with it."

"It is that it tells everything except the thing which exhales, like a mortal poison, from your eyes and from

your heart; except the senseless love which still consumes you." Raoul grew paler, but remained silent.

And tearing the letter he had just taken back, he wrote the following words upon a leaf of his tablets:

"To procure the happiness of once more telling you that I love you, I commit the baseness of writing to you;

"On the day," said Bragelonne, pointing to the last sentence, "on the day when you can place a date under

these words." And he sprang away quickly to join Athos, who was returning with slow steps.

As they reentered the fort, the sea rose with that rapid, gusty vehemence which characterizes the

Mediterranean; the illhumor of the element became a tempest. Something shapeless, and tossed about

"Yes, there is a bark in the creek, which is prudently seeking shelter here; but that which Athos points to in

"It is the carriagecase, which I threw into the sea after landing the prisoner."

"Well," said Athos, "if you will take my advice, d'Artagnan, you will burn it, in order that no vestige of it

may remain; or the fishermen of Antibes, who have believed they had to do with the Devil, will endeavor to

"Your advice is good, Athos, and I will this night have it carried out, or rather, I will carry it out myself; but

As they were passing over the ramparts to a gallery of which d'Artagnan had the key, they saw M. de

SaintMars directing his steps towards the chamber inhabited by the prisoner. Upon a sign from d'Artagnan,

And by the red flashes of the lightning against the violet fog which the wind spread upon the background of

the sky, they saw pass gravely, at six paces behind the governor, a man clothed in black and masked by a

visor of polished steel soldered to a helmet of the same nature, which altogether enveloped the whole of his

head. The fire of the heavens cast red reflections upon the polished surface, and these reflections, flying off

capriciously, seemed to be angry looks launched by this unfortunate, instead of imprecations. In the middle of

the gallery, the prisoner stopped for a moment to contemplate the infinite horizon, to inhale the sulphurous

perfumes of the tempest, to drink in thirstily the hot rain, and to breathe a sigh resembling a smothered roar.

"Come on, Monsieur," said De SaintMars, sharply to the prisoner, for he already became uneasy at seeing

"Say Monseigneur!" cried Athos, from his corner, with a voice so solemn and terrible that the governor

trembled from head to foot. Athos always wished respect to be paid to fallen majesty. The prisoner turned

"It was I," replied d'Artagnan, showing himself promptly. "You know that is the order."

"Call me neither Monsieur nor Monseigneur," said the prisoner in his turn, in a voice that penetrated to the

very soul of Raoul; "call me ACCURSED!" He passed on, and the iron door creaked after him.

"That is truly an unfortunate man!" murmured the musketeer, in a hollow whisper, pointing out to Raoul the

SCARCELY had d'Artagnan reentered his apartment with his two friends, when one of the soldiers of the

fort came to inform him that the governor was seeking for him. The bark which Raoul had perceived at sea,

and which appeared so eager to gain the port, came to Ste. Marguerite with an important despatch for the

captain of the Musketeers. On opening it, d'Artagnan recognized the writing of the King: "I should think,"

said Louis XIV, "that you must have completed the execution of my orders, M. d'Artagnan; return then

"There is the end of my exile!" cried the musketeer with joy; "God be praised, I am no longer a jailer!" and he

"Yes; but to meet again, dear friend, seeing that Raoul is old enough now to go alone with M. de Beaufort,

and will prefer that his father should go back in company with M. d'Artagnan, rather than that he should

travel two hundred leagues solitarily to reach home at La Fere; would you not, Raoul?"

"No, no, my friend," interrupted Athos, "I will never quit Raoul till the day his vessel shall have disappeared

on the horizon. As long as he remains in France, he shall not be separated from me."

"As you please, dear friend; but we will, at least, leave Ste. Marguerite together. Take advantage of the bark

"With all my heart; we cannot too soon be at a distance from this fort, and from the spectacle which saddened

The three friends quitted the little isle, after paying their respects to the governor, and by the last flashes of

the departing tempest they took their farewell of the white walls of the fort. D'Artagnan parted from his

friends that same night, after having seen fire set to the carriagecase upon the shore by the orders of De

SaintMars, according to the advice the captain had given him. Before getting on horseback, and after

leaving the arms of Athos, "My friends," said he, "you too much resemble two soldiers who are abandoning

their post. Something warns me that Raoul will require being supported by you in his rank. Will you allow

me to ask permission to go over into Africa with a hundred good muskets? The King will not refuse me, and I

"M. d'Artagnan," replied Raoul, pressing his hand with emotion, "thanks for that offer, which would give us

more than we wish, either Monsieur the Count or I. I, who am young, stand in need of labor of mind and

fatigue of body; Monsieur the Count wants the profoundest repose. You are his best friend. I recommend him

to your care. In watching over him, you will hold both our souls in your hands."

"I must go; my horse is all in a fret," said d'Artagnan, with whom the most manifest sign of a lively emotion

was the change of ideas in a conversation. "Come, Count, how many days longer has Raoul to stay here?"

"Oh, a considerable time," replied Athos. "I shall not like the idea of being separated too quickly from Raoul.

Time will travel too fast of itself to require me to aid it by distance. I shall only make halfstages."

"And why so, my friend? Nothing is more dull than travelling slowly; and hostelry life does not become a

"My friend, I came hither on posthorses; but I wish to purchase two animals of a superior kind. Now, to take

them home fresh, it would not be prudent to make them travel more than seven or eight leagues a day."

"He arrived yesterday morning with Raoul's appointments; and I have left him to sleep."

"That is, never to come back again," d'Artagnan suffered to escape him. "Till we meet again, then, dear

Athos; and if you are diligent, well, I shall embrace you the sooner." So saying, he put his foot in the stirrup,

"Farewell!" said d'Artagnan, as he got into his saddle. His horse made a movement which divided the cavalier

This scene had taken place in front of the house chosen by Athos, near the gates of Antibes, whither

d'Artagnan, after his supper, had ordered his horses to be brought. The road began there, and extended white

and undulating in the vapors of the night. The horse eagerly inhaled the salt sharp perfume of the marshes.

D'Artagnan put him into a trot; and Athos and Raoul sadly turned towards the house. All at once they heard

the rapid approach of a horse's steps, and at first believed it to be one of those singular echoes which deceive

the ear at every turn in a road; but it was really the return of the horseman. They uttered a cry of joyous

surprise; and the captain, springing to the ground like a young man, seized within his arms the two beloved

forms of Athos and Raoul. He held them long embraced thus, without speaking a word, or suffering the sigh

which was bursting his breast to escape him. Then, as rapidly as he had come back, he set off again, with a

"Evil presage!" on his side said d'Artagnan to himself, making up for lost time. "I could not smile upon them.

The next day Grimaud was on foot again. The service commanded by M. de Beaufort was happily

accomplished. The flotilla, sent to Toulon by the exertions of Raoul, had set out, dragging after it in little

nutshells almost invisible, the wives and friends of the fishermen and smugglers impressed into the service of

the fleet. The time, so short, which remained for the father and the son to live together, appeared to have

doubled the rapidity of its flight, as the swiftness of everything increases which moves towards the gulf of

Athos and Raoul returned to Toulon, which place began to be filled with the noise of carriages, the noise of

arms, the noise of neighing horses. The trumpeters sounded their spirited marches; the drummers signalized

their strength; the streets were overflowing with soldiers, servants, and tradespeople. The Duc de Beaufort

was everywhere, superintending the embarkation with the zeal and interest of a good captain. He encouraged

even the most humble of his companions; he scolded his lieutenants, even those of the highest rank. Artillery,

provisions, baggage, he insisted upon seeing all himself. He examined the equipment of every soldier; he

assured himself of the health and soundness of every horse. It was plain that light, boastful, and egotistical in

his hotel, the gentleman became the soldier again, the high noble a captain, in face of the responsibility he

had accepted. And yet it must be admitted that whatever was the care with which he presided over the

preparations for departure, it was easy to perceive careless precipitation, and the absence of all the precaution

which makes the French soldier the first soldier in the world, because he is the one most abandoned to his

All things having satisfied, or appearing to have satisfied, the admiral, he paid his compliments to Raoul, and

gave the last orders for sailing the next morning at daybreak. He invited the count and his son to dine with

him; but they, under a pretext of the service, kept themselves apart. Gaining their hostelry, situated under the

trees of the great place, they took their repast in haste; and Athos led Raoul to the rocks which command the

city, vast gray mountains, whence the view is infinite, and embraces a liquid horizon which appears, so

remote is it, on a level with the rocks themselves. The night was fine, as it always is in these happy climates.

The moon, rising behind the rocks, spread out like a silver sheet upon the blue carpet of the sea. In the

roadsteads manoeuvred silently the vessels which had just taken their places to facilitate the embarkation.

The sea, loaded with phosphoric light, opened beneath the hulls of the barks which transported the baggage

and munitions; every dip of the prow ploughed up this gulf of white flames, and from every oar dropped

liquid diamonds. The sailors, rejoicing in the largesses of the admiral, were heard murmuring their slow and

artless songs. Sometimes the grinding of the chains was mixed with the dull noise of shot falling into the

holds. These harmonies and this spectacle oppress the heart like fear, and dilate it like hope. All this life

Athos had seated himself with his son upon the moss, among the brambles of the promontory. Around their

heads passed and repassed large bats, carried along in the fearful whirl of their blind chase. The feet of Raoul

were across the edge of the cliff, and hung in that void which engenders vertigo and incites to

selfdestruction. When the moon had risen to its full height, caressing with its light the neighboring peaks,

when the watery mirror was illumined to its full extent, and the little red fires had made their openings in the

black masses of every ship, Athos collected all his ideas and all his courage, and said, "God has made all that

we see, Raoul; he has made us also, poor atoms mixed up with this great universe. We shine like those fires

and those stars; we sigh like those waves; we suffer like those great ships, which are worn out in ploughing

the waves, in obeying the wind which urges them towards an end, as the breath of God blows us towards a

"How good d'Artagnan is!" interrupted Athos, suddenly; "and what a rare good fortune it is to be supported

during a whole life by such a friend as he is! That is what you have wanted, Raoul."

"M. de Guiche is an agreeable companion," resumed the count, coldly; "but I believe in the times in which

you live men are more engaged in their own interests and their own pleasures than they were in our times.

You have sought a secluded life; that is a great happiness, but you have lost your strength in it. We four, more

weaned from these delicate abstractions which constitute your joy, we found in ourselves much greater

"I have not interrupted you, Monsieur, to tell you that I had a friend, and that that friend is M. Guiche.

Certainly he is good and generous, and moreover he loves me; but I have lived under the guard of another

friendship, Monsieur, as precious and as strong as that of which you speak: your own."

"Because I have given you reason to think that life has but one face; because, sad and severe, alas! I have

always cut off for you without, God knows, wishing to do so the joyous buds which incessantly spring

from the tree of youth; so that at this moment I repent not having made of you a more expansive, dissipated,

"I know why you say that, Monsieur. No, it is not you who have made me what I am, it is love, which took

possession of me at the time when children have only inclinations; it is the constancy natural to my character,

which with other creatures is but a habit. I believed that I should always be as I was; I thought God had cast

me in a path quite cleared, quite straight, bordered with fruits and flowers. I had watching over me your

vigilance and your strength. I believed myself to be vigilant and strong. Nothing prepared me; I fell once, and

that once deprived me of courage for the whole of my life. It is quite true that I wrecked myself. Oh, no,

Monsieur! you are nothing in my past but a happiness; you are nothing in my future but a hope! No, I have no

reproach to make against life, such as you made it for me; I bless you, and I love you ardently."

"My dear Raoul, your words do me good; they prove to me that you will act a little for me in the time that is

"Raoul, what I have never hitherto done with respect to you, I will hence. forward do; I will be your friend,

not your father. We will live in expanding ourselves, instead of living and holding ourselves prisoners, when

"Soon, then, Raoul, soon, instead of living moderately upon my income, I will give you the capital of my

estates; it will suffice for launching you into the world till my death, and you will give me, I hope, before

"It is not necessary, Raoul, that your duty as aidedecamp should lead you into too hazardous enterprises.

You have gone through your ordeal; you are known to be good under fire. Remember that war with the Arabs

"There is never much glory in falling in an ambuscade. It is a death which always implies some rashness or

want of foresight. Often, indeed, he who falls in it meets with but little pity. They who are not pitied, Raoul,

have died uselessly. Still further, the conqueror laughs, and we Frenchmen ought not to allow stupid infidels

to triumph over our mistakes. Do you clearly understand what I am saying to you, Raoul? God forbid I

"I am naturally prudent, Monsieur, and I have very good fortune," said Raoul, with a smile which chilled the

heart of his poor father; "for," the young man hastened to add, "in twenty combats in which I have been, I

"There is in addition," said Athos, "the climate to be dreaded; that is an ugly end, that fever! King

SaintLouis prayed God to send him an arrow or the plague, rather than the fever."

"I have already obtained from M. de Beaufort a promise that his despatches shall be sent off every fortnight

to France. You, as his aidedecamp, will be charged with expediting them, and will be sure not to forget

"Besides, Raoul, as you are a good Christian, and I am one also, we ought to reckon upon a more special

protection of God and his guardian angels. Promise me that if anything evil should happen to you on any

"Every night, Monsieur. During my early youth I saw you in my dreams, calm and mild, with one hand

stretched out over my head; and that it was that made me sleep so soundly formerly."

"We love each other so dearly," said the count, "that from this moment in which we separate a portion of both

our souls will travel with one and the other of us, and will dwell wherever we may dwell. Whenever you may

be sad, Raoul, I feel that my heart will be drowned in sadness; and when you smile on thinking of me, be

"I will not promise you to be joyous," replied the young man; "but you may be certain that I will never pass

Athos could contain himself no longer; he threw his arm round the neck of his son, and held him embraced

with all the power of his heart. The moon began to be now eclipsed by twilight; a golden band mounted on

the horizon announcing the approach of day. Athos threw his cloak over the shoulders of Raoul, and led him

back to the city, where burdens and porters were already in motion, as in a vast anthill. At the end of the

plateau which Athos and Bragelonne were quitting, they saw a dark shadow moving backwards and forwards,

as if in indecision or ashamed to be seen. It was Grimaud, who in his anxiety had tracked his master, and was

"Oh, my good Grimaud," cried Raoul, "what do you want? You have come to tell us it is time to go, have you

"Alone?" said Grimaud, addressing Athos, and pointing to Raoul in a tone of reproach, which showed to what

"Oh, you are right!" cried the count. "No, Raoul shall not go alone; no, he shall not be left alone in a strange

land without some friendly hand to support him, some friendly heart to recall to him all he loved!"

"So much the better," replied the latter, with an inexpressible depth of feeling and intelligence.

"Yes," said Grimaud, showing the keys of his trunks, mixed with those of his young master.

"But," again objected Raoul, "you cannot leave Monsieur the Count thus alone, Monsieur the Count whom

Grimaud turned his dimmed eyes upon Athos and Raoul, as if to measure the strength of both. The count

At that moment the drums suddenly rolled, and the clarions filled the air with their inspiring notes. The

regiments destined for the expedition began to march out from the city. They advanced to the number of five,

each composed of forty companies. Royals marched first, distinguished by their white uniform, faced with

blue. The ordonnance colors, quartered crosswise, violet and dead leaf, with a sprinkling of golden

fleursdelis, left the whitecolored flag, with its fleurdelisee cross, to dominate over the whole. Musketeers

at the wings, with their forked sticks in their hands and their muskets on their shoulders, and pikemen in the

centre, with their lances, fourteen feet in length, marched gayly towards the transports, which carried them in

detail to the ships. The regiments of Picardy, Navarre, Normandy, and Royal Vaisseau, followed after. M. de

Beaufort had known well how to select his troops. He himself was seen closing the march with his staff; it

would take him a full hour to reach the sea. Raoul with Athos turned his steps slowly towards the beach, in

order to take his place when the prince embarked. Grimaud, acting with the ardor of a young man,

superintended the embarkation of Raoul's baggage in the admiral's vessel. Athos, with his arm passed through

that of the son he was about to lose, absorbed in melancholy meditation, was deaf to the noise around him.

An officer came quickly towards them to inform Raoul that M. de Beaufort desired to have him by his side.

"Have the kindness to tell the prince," said Raoul, "that I request he will allow me this hour to enjoy the

"No, no," said Athos; "an aidedecamp ought not thus to quit his general. Please to tell the prince, Monsieur,

"Whether we part here or part there," added the count, "it is no less a separation."

Athos carefully brushed the dust off his son's coat, and passed his hand over his hair as they walked along.

"But, Raoul," said he, "you want money. M. de Beaufort's train will be splendid, and I am certain it will be

agreeable to you to purchase horses and arms, which are very dear things in Africa. Now, as you are not

actually in the service of the King or of M. de Beaufort, and are simply a volunteer, you must not reckon

upon either pay or largesses; but I should not like you to want for anything at Djidgelli. Here are two hundred

Raoul pressed the hand of his father, and at the turning of a street they saw M. de Beaufort, mounted upon a

magnificent white genet, which replied by graceful curvets to the applause of the women of the city. The

duke called Raoul and held out his hand to the count, speaking to him for some time with such a kindly

expression that the heart of the poor father felt a little comforted. It seemed, however, to both father and son

that they were proceeding to a scene of torture. There was a terrible moment, that at which on quitting the

sands of the shore the soldiers and sailors exchanged the last kisses with their families and friends; a supreme

moment, in which, notwithstanding the clearness of the heaven, the warmth of the sun, the perfumes of the

air, and the rich life that was circulating in their veins, everything appeared black, everything appeared bitter,

everything created doubts of a God, even while speaking by the mouth of God. It was customary for the

admiral and his suite to embark last; the cannon waited to announce with its formidable voice that the leader

had placed his foot on board his vessel. Athos, forgetful of both the admiral and the fleet, and of his own

dignity as a strong man, opened his arms to his son, and pressed him convulsively to his heart.

"Accompany us on board," said the duke, very much affected; "you will gain a good halfhour."

"Then, Viscount, embark, embark quickly!" added the prince, wishing to spare the tears of these two men,

whose hearts were bursting. And paternally, tenderly, very much as Porthos might have done, he took Raoul

in his arms and placed him in the boat; the oars of which, at a signal, immediately were dipped in the waves.

He himself, forgetful of ceremony, jumped into his boat, and pushed it off with a vigorous foot.

Athos replied only by a sign, but he felt something burning on his hand; it was the respectful kiss of

Grimaud, the last farewell of the faithful servant. This kiss given, Grimaud jumped from the step of the pier

upon the stem of a twooared yawl, which had just been taken in tow by a chaland served by twelve

galleyoars. Athos seated himself on the pier, stunned, deaf, abandoned. Every instant took from him one of

the features, one of the shades of the pale face of his son. With his arms hanging down, his eyes fixed, his

mouth open, he remained confounded with Raoul, in one same look, in one same thought, in one same

stupor. The sea by degrees carried away boats and faces to that distance at which men become nothing but

points, loves nothing but remembrances. Athos saw his son ascend the ladder of the admiral's ship; he saw

him lean upon the rail of the deck, and place himself in such a manner as to be always an object in the eye of

his father. In vain the cannon thundered; in vain from the ship sounded a long and loud tumult, responded to

by immense acclamations from the shore; in vain did the noise deafen the ear of the father, and the smoke

obscure the cherished object of all his aspirations. Raoul appeared to him up to the last moment; and the

imperceptible atom, passing from black to pale, from pale to white, from white to nothing, disappeared from

the view of Athos very long after, from all the eyes of the spectators, had disappeared both gallant ships and

Towards midday, when the sun devoured space, and scarcely the tops of the masts dominated the

incandescent line of the sea, Athos perceived a soft, aerial shadow rise and vanish as soon as seen. This was

the smoke of a cannon, which M. de Beaufort ordered to be fired as a last salute to the coast of France. The

point was buried in its turn beneath the sky, and Athos returned painfully and slowly to his hostelry.

D'ARTAGNAN had not been able to hide his feelings from his friends so much as he would have wished.

The stoical soldier, the impassible manatarms, overcome by fear and presentiments, had yielded for a few

minutes to human weakness. When therefore he had silenced his heart and calmed the agitation of his nerves,

turning towards his lackey, a silent servant, always listening in order to obey the more promptly, "Rabaud,"

And from that moment, d'Artagnan, accommodating his action to the pace of his horse, like a true centaur,

employed his thoughts about nothing, that is to say, about everything. He asked himself why the King had

recalled him; why the Iron Mask had thrown the silver plate at the feet of Raoul. As to the first subject, the

reply was only of a negative character. He knew right well that the King's calling him was from necessity; he

still further knew that Louis XIV must experience an imperious want of a private conversation with one

whom the possession of such a secret placed on a level with the highest powers of the kingdom; but as to

saying exactly what the King's wish was d'Artagnan found himself completely at a loss.

The musketeer had no longer any doubt as to the reason which had urged the unfortunate Philippe to reveal

his character and his birth. Philippe, hidden forever beneath a mask of iron, exiled to a country where the men

seemed little more than slaves of the elements; Philippe, deprived even of the society of d'Artagnan, who had

loaded him with honors and delicate attentions, had nothing more to look forward to than spectres and griefs

in this world; and despair beginning to devour him, he poured himself forth in complaints, in the belief that

The manner in which the musketeer had been near killing his two best friends, the destiny which had so

strangely brought Athos to participate in the great state secret, the farewell of Raoul, the obscurity of that

future which threatened to end in a melancholy death, all this threw d'Artagnan incessantly back to

lamentable predictions and forebodings which the rapidity of his pace did not dissipate, as it used formerly to

do. D'Artagnan passed from these considerations to the remembrance of the proscribed Porthos and Aramis.

He saw them both, fugitives, tracked, ruined, laborious architects of a fortune they must lose; and as the

King called for his man of execution in the hours of vengeance and malice, d'Artagnan trembled at the idea of

Sometimes when ascending hills, when the winded horse breathed hard from his nostrils, and heaved his

flanks, the captain, left to more freedom of thought, reflected upon the prodigious genius of Aramis, a

genius of craft and intrigue, of which the Fronde and the civil war had produced but two similar examples.

Soldier, priest, and diplomatist, gallant, avaricious, and cunning, Aramis had taken the good things of this life

only as steppingstones to rise to bad ones. Generous in spirit, if not high in heart, he never did ill but for the

sake of shining a little more brilliantly. Towards the end of his career, at the moment of reaching the goal,

like the patrician Fiesco, he had made a false step upon a plank, and had fallen into the sea.

But Porthos, the good, simple Porthos! To see Porthos hungry; to see Mousqueton without gold lace,

imprisoned, perhaps; to see Pierrefonds, Bracieux, razed to the very stones, dishonored even to the timber,

these were so many poignant griefs for d'Artagnan, and every time that one of these griefs struck him he

bounded like a horse at the sting of the gadfly beneath the vaults of foliage where he has sought shade and

Never was the man of spirit subjected to ennui if his body was exposed to fatigue; never did the man healthy

of body fail to find life light if he had something to engage his mind. D'Artagnan, riding fast, always

thinking, alighted from his horse in Paris, fresh and tender in his muscles as the athlete preparing for the

gymnasium. The King did not expect him so soon, and had just departed for the chase towards Meudon.

D'Artagnan, instead of riding after the King, as he would formerly have done, took off his boots, had a bath,

and waited till his Majesty should return dusty and tired. He occupied the interval of five hours in taking, as

people say, the air of the house, and in arming himself against all illchances. He learned that the King

during the last fortnight had been gloomy; that the QueenMother was ill and much depressed; that Monsieur

the King's brother was exhibiting a devotional turn; that Madame had the vapors; and that M. de Guiche had

gone to one of his estates. He learned that M. Colbert was radiant; that M. Fouquet consulted a fresh

physician every day who still did not cure him, and that his principal complaint was one which physicians do

not usually cure unless they are political physicians. The King, d'Artagnan was told, behaved in the kindest

manner to M. Fouquet, and did not allow him to be ever out of his sight; but the superintendent, touched to

the heart, like one of those fine trees which a worm has punctured, was declining daily, in spite of the royal

D'Artagnan learned that Mademoiselle de la Valliere had become indispensable to the King; that the King,

during his sporting excursions, if he did not take her with him, wrote to her frequently, no longer verses, but,

what was still much worse, prose, and that whole pages at a time. Thus, as the poetical Pleiad of the day

said, the first King in the world was seen descending from his horse with an ardor beyond compare, and on

the crown of his hat scrawling bombastic phrases, which M. de SaintAignan, aidedecamp in perpetuity,

carried to La Valliere at the risk of foundering his horses. During this time deer and pheasants were left to the

free enjoyments of their nature, hunted so lazily that, it was said, the art of venery ran great risk of

D'Artagnan then thought of the wishes of poor Raoul, of that desponding letter destined for a woman who

passed her life in hoping; and as d'Artagnan was inclined to philosophize, he resolved to profit by the absence

of the King to have a minute's talk with Mademoiselle de la Valliere. This was a very easy affair; while the

King was hunting, Louise was walking with some other ladies in one of the galleries of the PalaisRoyal,

exactly where the captain of the Musketeers had some guards to inspect. D'Artagnan did not doubt that if he

could but open the conversation upon Raoul, Louise might give him grounds for writing a consolatory letter

to the poor exile; and hope, or at least consolation for Raoul, in the state of heart in which he had left him,

was the sun, was life, to two men who were very dear to our captain. He directed his course therefore to the

D'Artagnan found La Valliere the centre of a circle. In her apparent solitude the King's favorite received like

a queen more perhaps than the Queen an homage of which Madame had been so proud when all the King's

looks were directed to her, and commanded the looks of the courtiers. D'Artagnan, although no squire of

dames, received nevertheless civilities and attentions from the ladies. He was polite, as a brave man always

is; and his terrible reputation had gained him as much friendship among the men as admiration among the

women. On seeing him enter, therefore, the maids of honor immediately accosted him; they opened the attack

by questions. Where had he been? What had he been doing? Why had they not seen him as usual make his

fine horse curvet in such beautiful style, to the delight and astonishment of the curious from the King's

He replied that he had just come from the land of oranges. This set all the ladies laughing. Those were times

in which everybody traveled, but in which, notwithstanding, a journey of a hundred leagues was an

"'From the land of oranges'?" cried Mademoiselle de TonnayCharente, "from Spain?"

"Mademoiselle," said d'Artagnan, "I will not give you the trouble of seeking any farther; I come from the

"Have we any of us any friends there?" said Mademoiselle de TonnayCharente, coldly, but in a manner to

"Why," replied d'Artagnan, "yes; there were M. de la Guillotiere, M. de Mouchy, M. de Bragelonne"

La Valliere became pale. "M. de Bragelonne!" cried the perfidious Athenais. "Eh, what! is he gone to the

"Do you know what my opinion is?" continued Athenais, pitiless, addressing d'Artagnan.

"My opinion is, then, that all the men who go to this war are desperate, desponding men, whom love has

treated ill, and who go to try if they cannot find black women more kind than fair ones have been."

Some of the ladies laughed; La Valliere was evidently confused; Montalais coughed loud enough to waken

"Mademoiselle," interrupted d'Artagnan, "you are in error when you speak of black women at Djidgelli. The

"Eh, do not disparage them! I have never seen a finer color to match with black eyes and a coral mouth."

"So much the better for M. de Bragelonne," said Mademoiselle de TonnayCharente, with persistent malice;

A profound silence followed these words; and d'Artagnan had time to reflect that women, those mild doves,

But making La Valliere pale did not satisfy Athenais; she determined to make her blush likewise. Resuming

the conversation without pause, "Do you know, Louise," said she, "that that is a great sin on your

"What sin, Mademoiselle?" stammered the unfortunate girl, looking round her for support, without finding it.

"Eh! why?" continued Athenais, "the poor young man was affianced to you; he loved you, you cast him off."

"Well, and that is a right every honest woman has," said Montalais, in an affected tone. "When we know we

"Cast him off! refuse him! that's all very well," said Athenais, "but that is not the sin with which

Mademoiselle de la Valliere has to reproach herself. The actual sin is sending poor Bragelonne to the wars;

Louise pressed her hand over her icy brow. "And if he dies," continued her pitiless tormentor; "you will have

Louise, halfdead, caught at the arm of the captain of the Musketeers, whose face betrayed unusual emotion.

"You wished to speak with me, M. d'Artagnan," said she, in a voice broken by anger and pain. "What had you

D'Artagnan made several steps along the gallery, supporting Louise on his arm; then, when they were far

enough removed from the others, "What I had to say to you, Mademoiselle," replied he, "Mademoiselle de

TonnayCharente has just expressed; roughly and unkindly, it is true, but still in its entirety."

She uttered a faint cry; pierced to the heart by this new wound, she went on her way like one of those poor

birds which, fatally injured, seek the shade of the thicket to die. She disappeared at one door at the moment

the King was entering by another. The first glance of the King was directed towards the empty seat of his

mistress. Not perceiving La Valliere, a frown came over his brow; but immediately he saw d'Artagnan, who

saluted him. "Ah, Monsieur!" cried he, "you have been diligent! I am pleased with you." This was the

superlative expression of royal satisfaction. Many men would have been ready to lay down their lives for

such a speech from the King. The maids of honor and the courtiers, who had formed a respectful circle round

the King on his entrance, drew back on observing that he wished to speak privately with his captain of the

Musketeers. The King led the way out of the gallery, after having again, with his eyes, sought everywhere for

La Valliere, for whose absence he could not account. The moment they were out of the reach of curious ears,

"There was a moment at which the fisherman who took me in his boat to Ste. Marguerite revolted, and did his

The King became pale. "Enough!" said he; and d'Artagnan bowed. Louis walked about his cabinet with hasty

The King perceived that he was unwilling to speak. "I have sent for you, Monsieur the Captain, to desire you

"Yes, Sire, it is in Bretagne. Will your Majesty make so long a journey as to Nantes?"

"The States are assembled there," replied the King. "I have two demands to make of them; I wish to be there."

D'Artagnan bowed as if to take his leave; but perceiving that the King was very much embarrassed, "Will

"Then your Majesty will doubtless want the Musketeers?" And the eye of the King sank beneath the

"At the Castle of Nantes, which I hear is very ill arranged, you will adopt the practice of placing musketeers

"Oh, one word more, M. d'Artagnan. At Nantes you will meet with M. le Duc de Gesvres, captain of the

Guards. Be sure that your Musketeers are placed before his Guards arrive. Precedence always belongs to the

"Question me, Sire! Is it likely that M. de Gesvres would question me?" And the musketeer, turning

cavalierly on his heel, disappeared. "To Nantes!" said he to himself, as he descended the stairs. "Why did he

As he reached the great gates, one of M. de Brienne's clerks came running after him, exclaiming, "M.

D'Artagnan was surprised; but he took the order, which was in the King's own writing, and was for two

hundred pistoles. "What!" thought he, after having politely thanked M. de Brienne's clerk, "M. Fouquet is to

pay for the journey, then! Mordioux! that is a bit of pure Louis XI! Why was not this order upon the chest of

M. Colbert? He would have paid it with such joy." And d'Artagnan, faithful to his principle of never letting

an order at sight get cold, went straight to the house of M. Fouquet, to receive his two hundred pistoles.

THE superintendent had no doubt received notice of the approaching departure, for he was giving a farewell

dinner to his friends. From the bottom to the top of the house, the hurry of the servants bearing dishes, and

the diligence of the registres, denoted an approaching change in both offices and kitchen. D'Artagnan, with

his order in his hand, presented himself at the offices, when he was told it was too late to pay cash, the chest

The clerk, a little put out by the serious air of the captain, replied that that was a very respectable reason, but

that the customs of the house were respectable likewise; and that in consequence he begged the bearer to call

again next day. D'Artagnan asked if he could not see M. Fouquet. The clerk replied that Monsieur the

Superintendent did not interfere with such details, and rudely closed the door in d'Artagnan's face. But the

latter had foreseen this stroke, and placed his boot between the door and the door case, so that the lock did not

catch, and the clerk was still face to face with his interlocutor. This made him change his tone, and say with

terrified politeness, "If Monsieur wishes to speak to Monsieur the Superintendent, he must go to the

"Monseigneur sees nobody at this hour," he was answered by a fellow carrying a vermeil dish, in which were

"Tell him," said the captain, stopping the servant by laying hold of his dish, "that I am M. d'Artagnan, captain

The fellow uttered a cry of surprise and disappeared, d'Artagnan following him slowly. He arrived just in

time to meet M. Pelisson in the antechamber; the latter, a little pale, came hastily out of the diningroom to

"There is nothing unpleasant, M. Pelisson; only a little order to receive some money."

"Ah!" said Fouquet's friend, breathing more freely; and he took the captain by the hand, and dragging him

behind him, led him into the diningroom, where a number of friends surrounded the superintendent, placed

in the centre, and buried in the cushions of an armchair. There were assembled all the Epicureans who so

lately at Vaux did honor to the house, the intelligence, and the wealth of M. Fouquet. joyous friends, for the

most part faithful, they had not fled from their protector at the approach of the storm, and in spite of the

threatening heavens, in spite of the trembling earth, they remained there, smiling, cheerful, as devoted to him

in misfortune as they had been in prosperity. On the left of the superintendent was Madame de Belliere; on

his right was Madame Fouquet; as if braving the laws of the world, and putting all vulgar reasons of propriety

to silence, the two protecting angels of this man united to offer him at the moment of the crisis the support of

their intertwined arms. Madame de Belliere was pale, trembling, and full of respectful attentions for Madame

the wife of the superintendent who, with one hand on the hand of her husband, was looking anxiously

towards the door by which Pelisson had gone out to bring in d'Artagnan. The captain entered at first full of

courtesy, and afterwards of admiration, when, with his infallible glance, he had interpreted the expression of

Fouquet raised himself up in his chair. "Pardon me, M. d'Artagnan," said he, "if I did not come to receive you

when coming in the King's name." And he pronounced the last words with a sort of melancholy firmness,

"Monseigneur," replied d'Artagnan, "I only come to you in the King's name to demand payment of an order

The clouds passed from every brow but that of Fouquet, which still remained overcast. "Ah, then," said he,

"But," said Madame Fouquet, recovered from her fright, "you are not going so soon, Monsieur the Captain,

"Madame, I should esteem that a great honor done to me, but I am so pressed for time that, you see, I have

been obliged to permit myself to interrupt your repast to procure payment of my order."

"The reply to which shall be gold," said Fouquet, making a sign to his intendant, who went out with the order

"The too much heart you displayed in your reception of the King," said La Fontaine, quietly, without

"We cannot devote too much heart to the reception of our King," said Fouquet, mildly, to his poet.

"Monsieur meant to say the too great ardor," interrupted d'Artagnan, with perfect frankness and much

amenity. "The fact is, Monseigneur, that hospitality was never practised as at Vaux."

Madame Fouquet permitted her countenance to show clearly that if Fouquet had conducted himself well

towards the King, the King had not rendered the like to the minister. But d'Artagnan knew the terrible secret.

He alone with Fouquet knew it; those two men had not, the one the courage to complain, the other the right to

accuse. The captain, to whom the two hundred pistoles were brought, was about to take leave, when Fouquet,

rising, took a glass of wine, and ordered one to be given to d'Artagnan. "Monsieur," said he, "to the health of

He bowed, with these words of evil omen, to all the company, who rose as soon as they heard the sound of

"I for a moment thought it was I and not my money he wanted," said Fouquet, endeavoring to laugh.

"Oh, do not deceive yourselves, my dear brothers in Epicurus!" said the superintendent. "I will not make a

comparison between the most humble sinner on the earth and the God we adore; but remember he gave one

day to his friends a repast which is called the Last Supper, and which was only a farewell dinner, like that

A painful cry of protestation arose from all parts of the table. "Shut the doors," said Fouquet, and the servants

disappeared. "My friends," continued Fouquet, lowering his voice, "what was I formerly; what am I now?

Consult among yourselves, and reply. A man like me sinks when he does not continue to rise. What shall we

say, then, when he really sinks? I have no more money, no more credit; I have no longer anything but

"Quick!" cried Pelisson, rising. "Since you explain yourself with that frankness, it is our duty to be frank

likewise. Yes, you are ruined; yes, you are hastening to your ruin. Stop! And in the first place, what money

"If Monseigneur flies," said Madame de Belliere, "it will be said that he was guilty, and was afraid."

"More than that, it will be said that I have carried away twenty millions with me."

"And I am of course going thither when going to Nantes," replied the superintendent. "Patience, then!"

"Yes, I know that well," replied Fouquet; "but what is to be done about it? The King summons me to the

States; I know well it is for the purpose of ruining me, but to refuse to go would show uneasiness."

"Well, I have discovered the means of reconciling everything," cried Pelisson. "You are going to set out for

"But with friends, in your own carriage as far as Orleans; in your barge as far as Nantes; always ready to

defend yourself if you are attacked, to escape if you are threatened. In fact, you will carry your money, to be

provided against all chances; and while flying you will only have obeyed the King; then, reaching the sea

when you like, you will embark for BelleIsle, and from BelleIsle you will shoot out whenever it may

please you, like the eagle, which rushes into space when it has been driven from its eyry."

A general assent followed Pelisson's words. "Yes, do so," said Madame Fouquet to her husband.

"With seven hundred thousand livres you can lay the foundation of another fortune," said the Abbe Fouquet.

"And if necessary, we will go and discover a new world," added La Fontaine, intoxicated with projects and

A knock at the door interrupted this concert of joy and hope. "A courier from the King," said the master of

A profound silence immediately ensued, as if the message brought by this courier was a reply to all the

projects given birth to an instant before. Every one waited to see what the master would do. His brow was

streaming with perspiration, and he was really suffering from his fever at that instant. He passed into his

cabinet to receive the King's message. There prevailed, as we have said, such a silence in the chambers and

throughout the attendance, that from the diningroom could be heard the voice of Fouquet saying, "That is

well, Monsieur." This voice was, however, broken by fatigue, trembling with emotion. An instant after,

Fouquet called Gourville, who crossed the gallery amid the universal expectation. At length he himself

reappeared among his guests, but it was no longer the same pale, spiritless countenance they had beheld when

he left them; from pale he had become livid, and from spiritless, annihilated. A living spectre, he advanced

with his arms stretched out, his mouth parched, like a shade that comes to salute friends of former days. On

seeing him thus, every one cried out, and every one rushed towards Fouquet. The latter, looking at Pelisson,

leaned upon his wife and pressed the icy hand of the Marquise de Belliere. "Well!" said he, in a voice that

Fouquet opened his right hand, which was clinched, humid, and displayed a paper, upon which Pelisson cast

"DEAR AND WELLBELOVED M. FOUQUET: Give us, upon that which you have left of ours, the sum of

seven hundred thousand livres, of which we stand in need to prepare for our departure.

"And as we know that your health is not good, we pray God to restore you to health, and to have you in his

"If I have received it, Pelisson, I have paid it," said the superintendent, with a simplicity that went to the heart

"Come, no useless words!" interrupted Pelisson. "After money, life, Monseigneur; to horse! to horse!"

"Monseigneur! Monseigneur!" cried Gourville, rushing up the stairs four steps at once; "Monseigneur!"

Madame Fouquet rushed downstairs, calling for her horses; Madame de Belliere flew after her catching her in

her arms, and saying, "Madame, in the name of his safety, do not betray anything, do not manifest any

Pelisson ran to have the horses put to the carriages; and in the mean time, Gourville gathered in his hat all

that the weeping friends were able to throw into it of gold and silver, the last offering, the pious alms made

to misfortune by poverty. The superintendent, dragged along by some, carried by others, was shut up in his

carriage. Gourville took the reins, and mounted the box. Pelisson supported Madame Fouquet, who had

fainted. Madame de Belliere had more strength, and was well paid for it; she received Fouquet's last kiss.

Pelisson easily explained this precipitate departure by saying that an order from the King had summoned the

AS GOURVILLE had seen, the King's Musketeers were mounting and following their captain. The latter,

who did not like to be confined in his proceedings, left his brigade under the orders of a lieutenant, and set off

upon posthorses, recommending his men to use all diligence. However rapidly they might travel, they could

not arrive before him. He had time, in passing along the Rue des PetitsChamps, to see a thing which

afforded him much food for thought. He saw M. Colbert coming out from his house to get into a carriage

which was stationed before the door. In this carriage d'Artagnan perceived the hoods of two women, and

being rather curious, he wished to know the names of the women concealed beneath these hoods. To get a

glimpse at them, for they kept themselves closely covered up, he urged his horse so near to the carriage that

he drove him against the step with such force as to give a shock to the entire equipage and those whom it

contained. The terrified women uttered, the one a faint cry, by which d'Artagnan recognized a young woman,

the other an imprecation, by which he recognized the vigor and selfpossession which half a century bestows.

The hoods were thrown back; one of the women was Madame Vanel, the other was the Duchesse de

Chevreuse. D'Artagnan's eyes were quicker than those of the ladies; he had seen and known them, while they

did not recognize him. And as they laughed at their fright, pressing each other's hands, "Humph!" said

d'Artagnan, "the old duchess is not more difficult in her friendships than she was formerly. She pays court to

He rode on. M. Colbert got into his carriage, and this noble trio began a sufficiently slow pilgrimage towards

the wood of Vincennes. Madame de Chevreuse set down Madame Vanel at her husband's house; and left

alone with M. Colbert, she chatted upon affairs while continuing her ride. She had an inexhaustible fund of

conversation, had that dear duchess, and as she always talked for the ill of others, always with a view to her

own good, her conversation amused her interlocutor, and did not fail to make a favorable impression.

She taught Colbert, who, poor man, was ignorant of it, how great a minister he was, and how Fouquet would

soon become nothing. She promised to rally around him, when he should become superintendent, all the old

nobility of the kingdom, and questioned him as to the degree of importance it would be proper to assign to La

Valliere. She praised him; she blamed him; she bewildered him. She showed him the inside of so many

secrets that for a moment Colbert feared he must have to do with the devil. She proved to him that she held in

her hand the Colbert of today, as she had held the Fouquet of yesterday; and as he asked her, very simply,

the reason of her hatred for the superintendent, "Why do you yourself hate him?" said she.

"Madame, in politics," replied he, "the differences of system may bring about divisions between men. M.

Fouquet always appeared to me to practise a system opposed to the true interests of the King."

She interrupted him. "I will say no more to you about M. Fouquet. The journey the King is about to take to

Nantes will give a good account of him. M. Fouquet, for me, is a man quite gone by, and for you also."

Colbert made no reply. "On his return from Nantes," continued the duchess, "the King, who is only anxious

for a pretext, will find that the States have not behaved well that they have made too few sacrifices. The

States will say that the imposts are too heavy, and that the superintendent has ruined them. The King will lay

Colbert darted a glance at the duchess, which plainly said, "If M. Fouquet be only disgraced, you will not be

"Your place, M. Colbert," the duchess hastened to say, "should be very prominent. Do you perceive any one

"It was useless then to overthrow the superintendent, M. Colbert. That is idle."

"Oh, yes, I know, the interest of the King; but if you please we will speak of your own."

"I cannot then comprehend why you should purchase of me the letters of M. Mazarin concerning M. Fouquet.

Colbert, half stupefied, looked at the duchess, and with an air of constraint, "Madame," said he, "I can less

"It is," said the old duchess, "because we must choose what we can have when we can't have what we

"Oh! very little influence; no knowledge of affairs, and no resources. M. Fouquet has paid court to her."

"Her Majesty the QueenMother has for M. Fouquet a weakness very prejudicial to her son."

"Very recently, Madame, at Vaux. It was she who prevented the King from having M. Fouquet arrested."

"People do not always entertain the same opinions, my dear Monsieur. That which the Queen may have

"On the contrary, I think it is of great consequence, for if I were certain of not displeasing her Majesty the

"Call it what you like. In short, the QueenMother has conceived a horror for all those who have participated,

in one fashion or another, in the discovery of this secret; and M. Fouquet I believe to be one of these."

"But there is something further: do you happen to know a man who was the intimate friend of M. Fouquet,

"Well, this M. d'Herblay, who also knew the secret, the QueenMother is causing to be pursued with the

"So hotly pursued, that if he were dead she would not be satisfied with anything less than his head, to satisfy

It was now the duchess's turn to smile. "Do not fancy that so easy," said she, "and do not promise it so

"Because M. d'Herblay is not one of those people who can be taken just when you please."

"Oh, M. Colbert, we folks have passed all our lives in making rebels, and yet you see plainly that so far from

Colbert fixed upon the old duchess one of those fierce looks of which no words can convey the expression,

accompanied by a firmness which was not wanting in grandeur. "The times are gone," said he, "in which

subjects gained duchies by making war against the King of France. If M. d'Herblay conspires, he will perish

on the scaffold. That will give, or will not give, pleasure to his enemies, that is of very little importance to

And this "us," a strange word in the mouth of Colbert, made the duchess thoughtful for a moment. She caught

herself reckoning inwardly with this man. Colbert had regained his superiority in the conversation, and he

"I thought you did, Madame. But as I have been mistaken, we will leave him alone; the King has said nothing

"Besides," continued Colbert, "what a poor capture would this bishop be! A bishop game for a king! Oh, no,

The hatred of the duchess now disclosed itself. "Game for a woman!" said she; "and the Queen is a woman. If

she wishes to have M. d'Herblay arrested, she has her reasons for it. Besides, is not M. d'Herblay the friend of

"Oh, never mind that," said Colbert. "This man shall be spared if he is not the enemy of the King. Is that

"I believe a secret better concealed behind the walls of the Bastille than behind those of BelleIsle."

"And while waiting for that enlightenment M. l'Eveque de Vannes will have escaped. I would do so."

"Escaped! he! and whither would he escape? Europe is ours, in will, if not in fact."

"He will always find an asylum, Monsieur. It is evident you know nothing of the man you have to do with.

You do not know d'Herblay; you did not know Aramis. He was one of those four musketeers who under the

late King made Cardinal de Richelieu tremble, and who during the regency gave so much trouble to

"I repeat to you, Monsieur, that if he wants a kingdom, he either has it, or will have it."

"Well, as you are so earnest that this rebel should not escape, Madame, I promise you he shall not escape."

"If BelleIsle were also defended by him, BelleIsle is not impregnable; and if M. l'Eveque de Vannes is shut

up in BelleIsle, well, Madame, the place will be besieged, and he will be taken."

"You may be very certain, Monsieur, that the zeal which you display for the interests of the QueenMother

will affect her Majesty warmly, and that you will be magnificently rewarded for it; but what shall I tell her of

"That when once taken, he shall be shut up in a fortress from which her secret shall never escape."

"Very well, M. Colbert; and we may say, that, dating from this instant, we have formed a solid alliance, you

"It is I, Madame, who place myself at yours. This Chevalier d'Herblay is a kind of Spanish spy, is he not?"

"Stop; King Philip III of Spain is a bigot. He is, perhaps, the confessor of Philip III."

"Mordieu?" cried Colbert, who forgot himself so far as to swear in the presence of this great lady, of this old

friend of the QueenMother, of the Duchesse de Chevreuse, in short. "He must then be the General of the

"Ah, then, Madame, this man will ruin us all if we do not ruin him; and we must make haste to do it too."

"But mark this well, M. Colbert. M. d'Herblay is never discouraged; and if he has missed one blow, he will be

sure to make another, he will begin again. If he has allowed an opportunity to escape of making a king for

himself, sooner or later he will make another, of whom, to a certainty, you will not be prime minister."

Colbert knitted his brow with a menacing expression. "I feel assured that a prison will settle this affair for us,

The duchess smiled. "Oh, if you knew," said she, "how many times Aramis has got out of prison!

"But you have not attended to what I said to you just now. Do you remember that Aramis was one of the four

invincibles whom Richelieu dreaded? And at that period the four musketeers were not in possession of that

Colbert bit his lips. "We will renounce the idea of the prison," said he, in a lower tone; "we will find a retreat

"That is well spoken, our ally!" replied the duchess. "But it is getting late. Had we not better return?"

"The more willingly, Madame, from having my preparations to make for setting out with the King."

And the carriage returned towards the Faubourg St. Antoine, after the conclusion of the treaty which gave up

to death the last friend of Fouquet, the last defender of BelleIsle, the ancient friend of Marie Michon, the

D'ARTAGNAN had set off, Fouquet likewise was gone, and he with a rapidity which the tender interest of

his friends increased. The first moments of this journey, or better to say, of this flight, were troubled by the

incessant fear of all the horses and all the carriages which could be perceived behind the fugitive. It was not

natural, in fact, if Louis XIV was determined to seize this prey, that he should allow it to escape; the young

lion was already accustomed to the chase, and he had bloodhounds ardent enough to be depended on. But

insensibly all fears were dispersed; the superintendent, by hard travelling, placed such a distance between

himself and his persecutors that no one of them could reasonably be expected to overtake him. As to his

position, his friends had made it excellent for him. Was he not traveling to join the King at Nantes, and what

did the rapidity prove but his zeal to obey? He arrived, fatigued but reassured, at Orleans, where he found,

thanks to the care of a courier who had preceded him, a handsome lighter of eight oars.

These lighters, in the shape of gondolas, rather wide and rather heavy, containing a small cuddy, covered by

the deck, and a chamber in the poop, formed by a tent, then acted as passageboats from Orleans to Nantes,

by the Loire; and this passage, a long one in our days, appeared then more easy and convenient than the

highroad, with its posthacks or its bad, insecurely hung carriages. Fouquet went on board this lighter,

which set out immediately. The rowers, knowing they had the honor of conveying the Superintendent of the

Finances, pulled with all their strength, and that magic phrase, "the finances," promised them a liberal

The lighter bounded over the waters of the Loire. Magnificent weather, one of those sunrisings that

empurple landscapes, left the river all its limpid serenity. The current and the rowers carried Fouquet along as

wings carry a bird, and he arrived before Beaugency without any accident upon the way. Fouquet hoped to be

the first to arrive at Nantes; there he would see the notables and gain support among the principal members of

the States; he would make himself necessary, a thing very easy for a man of his merit, and would delay the

"Besides," said Gourville to him, "at Nantes, you will make out, or we will make out, the intentions of your

enemies; we will have horses always ready to convey you to the inextricable Poitou, and a boat in which to

gain the sea; and when once in the open sea, BelleIsle is the inviolable port. You see, besides, that no one is

He had scarcely finished when they discovered at a distance, behind an elbow formed by the river, the masts

of a large lighter, which was coming down. The rowers of Fouquet's boat uttered a cry of surprise on seeing

"The matter is, Monseigneur," replied the skipper of the boat, "that it is a truly remarkable thing, that lighter

Fouquet did not go up with him; but he said to Gourville with a restrained mistrust, "See what it is, dear

The lighter had just passed the elbow. It came on so fast that behind it might be seen to tremble the white

"How they go!" repeated the skipper, "how they go! They must be well paid! I did not think," he added,

"that oars of wood could behave better than ours, but those yonder prove the contrary."

"Well they may," said one of the rowers; "they are twelve, and we are but eight."

The number of eight rowers for a lighter had never been exceeded, even for the King. This honor had been

"What does that mean?" said Gourville, endeavoring to distinguish beneath the tent, which was already

apparent, the travellers, whom the most piercing eye could not yet have succeeded in discovering.

"In the first place because there is no white flag with fleursdelis, which the royal lighter always carries."

"And then," said Fouquet, "because it is impossible it should be the King, Gourville, as the King was still in

Gourville replied to the superintendent by a look which said, "You were there yourself yesterday."

"And by what do you make out they are in such haste?" added he, for the sake of gaining time.

"By this, Monsieur," said the skipper: "these people must have set out a long while after us, and they have

"Bah!" said Gourville, "who told you that they do not come from Beaugency or from Niort even?"

"We have seen no lighter of that force, except at Orleans. It comes from Orleans, Monsieur, and makes great

Fouquet and Gourville exchanged a glance. The skipper remarked their uneasiness, and to mislead him,

Gourville immediately said, "It is some friend, who has laid a wager he would catch us; let us win the wager,

The skipper opened his mouth to reply that that was impossible, when Fouquet said with much hauteur, "If it

"We can try, Monseigneur," said the skipper, timidly. "Come, you fellows, put out your strength; row, row!"

"Quite short!" repeated Fouquet. The eight oars stopped, and resisting the water, they imparted a retrograde

force to the lighter. It was stopped. The twelve rowers in the other did not at first perceive this manoeuvre, for

they continued to urge on their boat so vigorously that it arrived quickly within musketshot. Fouquet was

shortsighted; Gourville was annoyed by the sun, which was full in his eyes; the skipper alone with that habit

and clearness which are acquired by a constant struggle with the elements, perceived distinctly the travellers

"It will not be long before you distinguish them; by a few strokes of their oars they will arrive within twenty

But what the skipper predicted was not fulfilled; the lighter imitated the movement commanded by Fouquet,

and instead of coming to join its pretended friends, it stopped short in the middle of the river.

"You who can see so plainly the people in that lighter," resumed Fouquet, "try to describe them to us,

"I thought I saw two," replied the boatman; "I can only see one now under the tent."

A little cloud at that moment passed across the azure of the heavens, and darkened the sun. Gourville, who

was still looking with one hand over his eyes, became able to see what he sought, and all at once, jumping

from the deck into the chamber where Fouquet awaited him, "Colbert!" said he, in a voice broken by

"I tell you I recognized him, and he at the same time so plainly recognized me that he has just gone into the

"Monseigneur, it is not consistent with your dignity to go to meet even your ruin."

"Do not stop; you were only going so fast to appear to obey the King's order with zeal. Redouble the speed.

"That's just. Come!" cried Fouquet; "since they remain stockstill yonder, let us go on."

The skipper gave the signal, and Fouquet's rowers resumed their task with all the success that could be looked

for from men who had rested. Scarcely had the lighter made a hundred fathoms, when the other that with the

twelve rowers resumed its course as well. This position lasted all the day, without any increase or

diminution of distance between the two vessels. Towards evening Fouquet wished to try the intentions of his

persecutor. He ordered his rowers to pull towards the shore as if to effect a landing. Colbert's lighter imitated

this manoeuvre, and steered towards the shore in a slanting direction. By the greatest chance, at the spot

where Fouquet pretended to wish to land, a stableman from the Chateau de Langeais was following the

flowery banks leading three horses in halters. Without doubt the people of the twelveoared lighter fancied

that Fouquet was directing his course towards horses prepared for his flight, for four or five men, armed with

muskets, jumped from the lighter on to the shore, and marched along the banks, as if to gain ground on the

horses and horsemen. Fouquet, satisfied of having forced the enemy to a demonstration, was content, and put

his boat in motion again. Colbert's people returned likewise to theirs, and the course of the two vessels was

resumed with fresh perseverance. Upon seeing this, Fouquet felt himself threatened closely, and, "Well,

Gourville," said he, in a low voice, "what did I say at our last repast at my house? Am I going, or not, to my

"These two boats, which contend with so much emulation, as if we were disputing, M. Colbert and I, a prize

for swiftness on the Loire, do they not aptly represent our two fortunes; and do you not believe, Gourville,

"At least," objected Gourville, "there is still uncertainty. You are about to appear at the States; you are about

to show what sort of man you are; your eloquence and your genius for business are the buckler and sword

that will serve for defence, if not for victory. The Bretons do not know you; and when they shall know you

your cause is won! Oh! let M. Colbert look to it well, for his lighter is as much exposed as yours to being

upset. Both go quickly, his faster than yours, it is true; we shall see which will be wrecked first."

Fouquet, taking Gourville's hand, "My friend," said he, "it is all planned; remember the proverb, 'First come,

He was right; the two lighters held their course as far as Nantes, watching each other. When the

superintendent landed, Gourville hoped he would be able to seek refuge at once and have relays prepared. But

at the landing, the second lighter joined the first, and Colbert, approaching Fouquet, saluted him on the quay

with marks of the profoundest respect, marks so significant, so public, that their result was the bringing of

the whole population upon La Fosse. Fouquet was completely selfpossessed; he felt that in his last moments

of greatness he had obligations towards himself. He wished to fall from such a height that his fall should

crush some one of his enemies. Colbert was there, so much the worse for Colbert. The superintendent,

therefore, coming up to him, replied with that arrogant winking of the eyes peculiar to him "What! is that

"Of twelve rowers?" said Fouquet; "what luxury, M. Colbert! For a moment I thought it was the

"This is a voyage that will cost those who have to pay for it dear, Monsieur the Intendant!" said Fouquet.

"But you have, happily, arrived! You see, however," added he, a moment after, "that I, who had but eight

rowers, arrived before you." And he turned his back towards him, leaving him uncertain whether all the

tergiversations of the second lighter had escaped the notice of the first. At least he did not give him the

"I have not been quick, Monseigneur," he replied, "because I followed your example whenever you stopped."

"And why did you do that, M. Colbert?" cried Fouquet, irritated by this base audacity; "as you had a superior

Fouquet got into a carriage which the city sent to him, we know not why or how, and he repaired to the

Maison de Nantes, escorted by a vast crowd of people, who for several days had been boiling with the

expectation of a convocation of the States. Scarcely was he installed when Gourville went out to order horses

upon the route to Poitiers and Vannes, and a boat at Paimboeuf. He performed these various operations with

so much mystery, activity, and generosity that never was Fouquet, then laboring under an access of fever,

more near being saved, except for the cooperation of that immense disturber of human projects, chance.

A report was spread during the night that the King was coming in great haste upon posthorses, and that he

would arrive within ten or twelve hours at latest. The people, while waiting for the King, were greatly

rejoiced to see the Musketeers, just arrived with M. d'Artagnan, their captain, and quartered in the castle, of

which they occupied all the posts, in quality of guard of honor. M. d'Artagnan, who was very polite,

presented himself about ten o'clock at the lodgings of the superintendent, to pay his respectful compliments to

him; and although the minister suffered from fever, although he was in such pain as to be bathed in sweat, he

would receive M. d'Artagnan, who was delighted with that honor as will be apparent in the conversation they

FOUQUET had gone to bed, like a man who clings to life, and who economizes as much as possible that

slender tissue of existence of which the shocks and angles of this world so quickly wear out the irreparable

tenuity. D'Artagnan appeared at the door of the chamber, and was saluted by the superintendent with a very

"Goodday, Monseigneur," replied the musketeer; "how did you get through the journey?"

"But sadly. I drink as you see. I am scarcely arrived, and I have already levied a contribution of tisane upon

"No doubt you do. Is it at Nantes as it was at Paris; do you not come in the King's name?"

"For Heaven's sake, Monseigneur," replied the captain, "leave the King alone! The day on which I shall come

on the part of the King for the purpose you mean, take my word for it, I will not leave you long in doubt. You

will see me place my hand on my sword, according to the ordonnance, and you will hear me say at once in

Fouquet trembled in spite of himself, the tone of the lively Gascon had been so natural and so vigorous. The

"What makes you think that, M. d'Artagnan? For my part, I think quite the contrary."

"Indeed, no. You are an agreeable man, in spite of your fever. The King ought not, cannot help loving you, at

Fouquet's face implied doubt. "But M. Colbert?" said he; "does M. Colbert also love me as much as you

"I don't speak of M. Colbert," replied d'Artagnan. "He is an exceptional man, is that M. Colbert. He does not

love you, that is very possible; but, mordioux! the squirrel can guard himself against the adder with very

"Do you know that you are speaking to me quite as a friend?" replied Fouquet; "and that, upon my life! I have

"You are pleased to say so," replied d'Artagnan. "Why did you wait till today to pay me such a compliment?"

"Your voice is getting hoarse," said d'Artagnan; "drink, Monseigneur, drink!" And he offered him a cup of

tisane with the most friendly cordiality; Fouquet took it, and thanked him by a bland smile. "Such things

happen only to me," said the musketeer. "I have passed ten years under your very beard, while you were

rolling about tons of gold. You were clearing an annual income of four millions; you never observed me; and

"I am about to fall," interrupted Fouquet. "That is true, my dear M. d'Artagnan."

"But you thought so; and that is the same thing. Well, if I fall, take my word as truth, I shall not pass a single

day without saying to myself, as I strike my brow, 'Fool! fool! stupid mortal! You had a M. d'Artagnan

"There exists another man, then, who does not think as M. Colbert does," said the superintendent.

"Oh, I have good cause," said Fouquet. "Judge for yourself"; and he related the details of the course of the

lighters, and the hypocritical persecution of Colbert. "Is not this a clear sign of my ruin?"

D'Artagnan became serious. "That is true," said he. "Yes; that has a bad odor, as M. de Treville used to say."

"Am I not clearly aimed at in that, Captain? Is not the King bringing me to Nantes to get me away from Paris,

"Where M. d'Herblay is," added d'Artagnan. Fouquet raised his head. "As for me, Monseigneur," continued

"The King commanded me to set out for Nantes, it is true, and to say nothing about it to M. de Gesvres."

"To M. de Gesvres, yes, Monseigneur," continued the musketeer, whose eyes did not cease to speak a

language different from the language of his lips. "The King, moreover, commanded me to take a brigade of

"Ninetysix horsemen, yes, Monseigneur. The same number as were employed in arresting Messieurs de

Fouquet pricked up his ears at these words, pronounced without apparent value. "And besides?" said he.

"Well! nothing but insignificant orders, such as guarding the castle, guarding every lodging, allowing none

"M. d'Artagnan, the safety of my honor, and perhaps of my life, is at stake. You would not deceive me?"

"I? and to what end? Are you threatened? Only there really is an order with respect to carriages and boats"

"To forbid all horses or boats to leave Nantes without a pass signed by the King."

D'Artagnan began to laugh. "All that is not to be put into execution before the arrival of the King at Nantes.

Fouquet became thoughtful, and d'Artagnan feigned not to observe his preoccupation, and said, "It is evident

from my thus confiding to you the orders which have been given to me that I am friendly towards you, and

"Let us recapitulate," said the captain, his glance beaming with earnestness. "A special and severe guard of

the castle, in which your lodging is to be, is it not? Do you know that castle? Ah, Monseigneur, a true prison!

The total absence of M. de Gesvres, who has the honor of being one of your friends; the closing of the gates

of the city, and of the river without a pass, but only when the King shall have arrived. Please to observe, M.

Fouquet, that if, instead of speaking to a man like you, who are one of the first in the kingdom, I were

speaking to a troubled, uneasy conscience, I should compromise myself forever! What a fine opportunity for

any one who wished to be free! No police, no guards, no orders, the water free, the roads free, M. d'Artagnan

obliged to lend his horses, if required! All this ought to reassure you, M. Fouquet, for the King would not

have left me thus independent if he had had any evil designs. In truth, M. Fouquet, ask me whatever you like,

I am at your service; and in return, if you will consent to it, render me a service, that of offering my

compliments to Aramis and Porthos, in case you embark for BelleIsle, as you have a right to do, without

Having said these words, with a profound bow the musketeer, whose looks had lost none of their intelligent

kindness, left the apartment. He had not reached the steps of the vestibule when Fouquet, quite beside

himself, hung to the bellrope, and shouted, "My horses! my lighter!" But nobody answered. The

"Gourville! Gourville!" cried he, while slipping his watch into his pocket; and the bell sounded again, while

"Let us be gone! let us be gone!" cried the superintendent, as soon as he saw him.

"Listen!" And they heard the sounds of trumpets and drums in front of the castle.

"The King, who has ridden double stages, who has killed horses, and who is eight hours in advance of your

"We are lost!" murmured Fouquet. "Brave d'Artagnan, all is over; thou hast spoken to me too late!"

The King, in fact, was entering the city, which soon resounded with the cannon from the ramparts, and from a

vessel which replied from the lower parts of the river. Fouquet's brow darkened; he called his valets de

chambre, and dressed in ceremonial costume. From his window, behind the curtains, he could see the

eagerness of the people and the movement of a large troop, which had followed the Prince. The King was

conducted to the castle with great pomp, and Fouquet saw him dismount under the portcullis, and speak

something in the ear of d'Artagnan, who held his stirrup. D'Artagnan, when the King had passed under the

arch, directed his steps towards the house Fouquet was in; but so slowly, and stopping so frequently to speak

to his Musketeers, drawn up as a hedge, that it might be said he was counting the seconds or the steps before

accomplishing his message. Fouquet opened the window to speak to him in the court.

"Ah!" cried d'Artagnan, on perceiving him, "are you still there, Monseigneur?" And that word "still"

completed the proof to Fouquet of how much information, and how many useful counsels were contained in

The superintendent sighed deeply. "Good heavens! yes, Monsieur," replied he. "The arrival of the King has

"To inquire after you, Monseigneur; and if your health is not too bad, to beg you to have the kindness to

"Ah, damn it!" said the captain; "now the King is come, there is no more walking for anybody no more

Fouquet heaved a last sigh, got into his carriage, so great was his weakness, and went to the castle, escorted

by d'Artagnan, whose politeness was not less terrifying now than it had but just before been consoling and

AS FOUQUET was alighting from his carriage to enter the Castle of Nantes, a man of mean appearance went

up to him with marks of the greatest respect, and gave him a letter. D'Artagnan endeavored to prevent this

man from speaking to Fouquet, and pushed him away; but the message had been given to the superintendent.

Fouquet opened the letter and read it, and instantly a vague terror, which d'Artagnan did not fail to penetrate,

was expressed by the countenance of the first minister. He put the paper into the portfolio which he had under

his arm, and passed on towards the King's apartments. D'Artagnan, as he went up behind Fouquet, through

the small windows made at every landing of the donjon stairs, saw the man who had delivered the note look

around him on the place, and make signs to several persons, who disappeared into the adjacent streets, after

having themselves repeated the signals made by the person we have named. Fouquet was made to wait for a

moment upon the terrace of which we have spoken, a terrace which abutted on the little corridor, at the end

of which the cabinet of the King was located. Here d'Artagnan passed on before the superintendent, whom till

"Well?" asked Louis XIV, who, on perceiving him, threw on the table covered with papers a large green

"In ten minutes let him be introduced," said the King, dismissing d'Artagnan with a gesture. The latter retired,

but had scarcely reached the corridor at the extremity of which Fouquet was waiting for him, when he was

"Fouquet," repeated the King, without saying "Monsieur," a trifle which confirmed the captain of the

Fouquet had not quitted the terrace where he had been left by his guide. He reperused his note, conceived

"Something is being contrived against you. Perhaps they will not dare to carry it out at the castle; it will be on

your return home. The house is already surrounded by musketeers. Do not enter. A white horse is in waiting

Fouquet recognized the writing and the zeal of Gourville. Not being willing that if any evil happened to

himself this paper should compromise a faithful friend, the superintendent was busy tearing it into a thousand

morsels, spread about by the wind from the balustrade of the terrace. D'Artagnan found him watching the

Fouquet walked with a deliberate step into the little corridor, where Messieurs de Brienne and Rose were at

work, while the Duc de SaintAignan, seated on a chair, likewise in the corridor, appeared to be waiting for

orders with feverish impatience, his sword between his legs. It appeared strange to Fouquet that Messieurs de

Brienne, Rose, and de SaintAignan, in general so attentive and obsequious, should scarcely take the least

notice as he, the superintendent, passed. But how could he expect to find it otherwise among courtiers, he

whom the King now called "Fouquet"? He raised his head, determined to meet with brave front whatever

might happen, and entered the King's apartment, where a little bell, which we already know, had announced

The King, without rising, nodded to him, and with interest, "Well, how are you, M. Fouquet?" said he.

"I am in a high fever," replied the superintendent; "but I am at the King's service."

Fouquet looked at the King with astonishment. "I have not, Sire," replied he; "but I will improvise one. I am

too well acquainted with affairs to feel any embarrassment. I have only one question if your Majesty will

"Why has your Majesty not done his first minister the honor to give him notice of this in Paris?"

"Never did a labor, never did an explanation, fatigue me, Sire; and since the moment is come for me to

The King blushed. "I have been calumniated," continued Fouquet, warmly; "and I feel called upon to incite

"Your Majesty can only know things as they have been told to you; and I, on my part, have said nothing to

"What do you wish to say?" said the King, impatient to put an end to this embarrassing conversation.

"I will go straight to the fact, Sire; and I accuse a man of having injured me in your Majesty's opinion."

Fouquet, with a halfbow, made a step backwards. "It is certain," thought he, "that he has made up his mind;

he alone who cannot go back can show such obstinacy. Not to see the danger now would be to be blind

indeed; not to shun it would be stupid." He resumed aloud, "Did your Majesty send for me for any business?"

"Rest yourself, M. Fouquet; do not throw away your strength. The session of the States will be short; and

when my secretaries shall have closed it, I do not wish business to be talked of in France for a fortnight."

"Has the King nothing to say to me on the subject of this assembly of the States?"

Fouquet bit his lips and hung down his head. He was evidently busy with some uneasy thought. This

uneasiness struck the King. "Are you troubled at having to rest yourself, M. Fouquet?" said he.

His Majesty made no reply; this unexpected stroke embarrassed him. Fouquet felt the weight of this

hesitation. He thought he could read a danger in the eyes of the young King which his fear would precipitate.

The King, on his part, was only uneasy at the alarm of Fouquet. "Has he a suspicion of anything?" murmured

"If his first word is severe," again thought Fouquet, "if he becomes angry, or feigns to be angry, for the sake

of a pretext, how shall I extricate myself? Let us smooth the declivity a little. Gourville was right."

"Sire," said he, suddenly, "since the goodness of the King watches over my health to the point of dispensing

with my labor, may I not be allowed to be absent from the council of tomorrow? I could pass the day in bed,

and will entreat the King to grant me his physician, that we may endeavor to find a remedy against this cursed

"So be it, M. Fouquet, as you desire; you shall have a holiday tomorrow, you shall have the physician, and

"Thanks," said Fouquet, bowing. Then, opening his game, "Shall I not have the happiness of conducting your

Majesty to my residence of BelleIsle?" And he looked Louis full in the face to judge of the effect of such a

The King blushed again, "Do you know," replied he, endeavoring to smile, "that you have just said, 'My

"Well, do you not remember," continued the King, in the same cheerful tone, "that you gave me BelleIsle?"

"That is true again, Sire; only, as you have not taken it, you will come with me and take possession of it."

"That was, then, your Majesty's intention as well as mine; and I cannot express to your Majesty how happy

and proud I have been at seeing all the King's military household come from Paris for this taking possession."

The King stammered out that he did not bring the Musketeers for that purpose alone.

"Oh, I am convinced of that!" said Fouquet, warmly; "your Majesty knows very well that you have nothing to

do but to come alone with a cane in your hand to bring to the ground all the fortifications of BelleIsle."

"Peste!" cried the King; "I do not wish that those fine fortifications, whose erection cost so much, should fall

at all. No, let them stand against the Dutch and the English. You would not guess what I want to see at

BelleIsle, M. Fouquet; it is the pretty peasants and women of the lands on the seashore, who dance so well

and are so seducing with their scarlet petticoats! I have heard great boast of your vassals, Monsieur the

The superintendent felt this stroke, which was not adroit, and replied, "No, Sire; I was ignorant of your

Majesty's wish. Above all, I was ignorant of your haste to see BelleIsle; and I am prepared with nothing."

"I have five; but they are all in the port or at Paimboeuf, and to join them or bring them hither we should

require at least twentyfour hours. Have I any occasion to send a courier? Must I do so?"

"That is true; who knows but that by tomorrow we may not have a hundred other ideas?" replied Fouquet,

The King started and stretched his hand out towards his little bell, but Fouquet prevented his ringing. "Sire,"

said he, "I have an ague, I am trembling with cold. If I remain a moment longer, I shall most likely faint. I

request your Majesty's permission to go and conceal myself beneath the bedclothes."

"Indeed, you are all in a shiver; it is painful to behold! Go, M. Fouquet, go. I will send to inquire after you."

"Oh, Sire!" interrupted Fouquet, smiling in such a manner as made the King feel cold, "would you give me

the captain of your Musketeers to take me to my lodgings? A very equivocal kind of honor that, Sire! A

"If I am obliged to return home supported by the leader of the Musketeers, it would be everywhere said you

"Arrested!" replied the King, who became paler than Fouquet himself "arrested! oh!"

"And why would they not say so?" continued Fouquet, still smiling; "and I would lay a wager there would be

people found wicked enough to laugh at it." This sally disconcerted the monarch. Fouquet was skillful

enough, or fortunate enough, to make Louis XIV recoil before the appearance of the fact he meditated. M.

d'Artagnan, when he appeared, received an order to desire a musketeer to accompany the superintendent.

"Quite unnecessary," said the latter; "sword for sword, I prefer Gourville, who is waiting for me below. But

that will not prevent my enjoying the society of M. d'Artagnan. I am glad he will see BelleIsle, he who is so

D'Artagnan bowed, without at all comprehending what was going on. Fouquet bowed again and left the

apartment, affecting all the slowness of a man who walks with difficulty. When once out of the castle, "I am

saved!" said he. "Oh, yes, disloyal King! you shall see BelleIsle, but it shall be when I am no longer there!"

"Captain," said the King, "you will follow M. Fouquet at the distance of a hundred paces."

"In such a fashion that he may not, on the road, either converse with any one, or throw notes to people he

"Pardon me, Sire, I cannot stifle M. Fouquet; and if he asks for liberty to breathe, I cannot prevent him by

shutting up glasses and blinds. He will throw out at the doors all the cries and notes possible."

"The case is provided for, M. d'Artagnan; and a carriage with a trellis will obviate both the difficulties you

"A carriage with an iron trellis!" cried d'Artagnan; "but a carriage with an iron trellis is not made in half an

"Ah, that is quite a different thing," said the captain; "if the carriage is ready made, very well, then, we have

"And the coachman, with the outriders, are waiting in the lower court of the castle."

D'Artagnan bowed. "There only remains for me to ask your Majesty to what place I shall conduct M.

"M. d'Artagnan, one last word: you have remarked that for making this capture of M. Fouquet, I have not

"Your Majesty does not employ your Guards," said the captain, a little humiliated, "because you mistrust M.

"It is only for the sake of arriving at this, Monsieur, that if from this moment it should happen that by any

chance, any chance whatever, M. Fouquet should escape such chances have been, Monsieur"

The King started. "Because," continued the captain, "I had then a right to do so, having guessed your

Majesty's plan without your having spoken to me of it, and because I took an interest in M. Fouquet. Then, I

"If I had saved him then, I should have been perfectly innocent; I will say more, I should have done well, for

M. Fouquet is not a bad man. But he was not willing; his destiny prevailed; he let the hour of liberty slip by.

So much the worse! Now I have orders I will obey them, and M. Fouquet you may consider as a man

"That concerns me; every one to his trade, Sire. Only, once more, reflect! Do you seriously give me orders to

D'Artagnan read it, bowed to the King, and left the room. From the height of the terrace he perceived

"THAT is rather surprising," said d'Artagnan, "Gourville running about the streets so gayly, when he is

almost certain that M. Fouquet is in danger; when it is almost equally certain that it was Gourville who

warned M. Fouquet just now by the note which was torn into a thousand pieces upon the terrace, and given to

the winds by Monsieur the Superintendent. Gourville is rubbing his hands; that is because he has done

something clever. Whence comes M. Gourville? Gourville is coming from the Rue aux Herbes. Whither does

the Rue aux Herbes lead?" And d'Artagnan followed, along the tops of the houses of Nantes dominated by the

castle, the line traced by the streets, as he would have done upon a topographical plan; only, instead of the

dead flat paper, the living chart rose in relief with the cries, the movements, and the shadows of the men and

Beyond the enclosure of the city the great verdant plains stretched out, bordering the Loire, and appeared to

run towards the empurpled horizon, which was cut by the azure of the waters and the dark green of the

marshes. Immediately outside the gates of Nantes two white roads were seen diverging like the separated

fingers of a gigantic hand. D'Artagnan, who had taken in all the panorama at a glance in crossing the terrace,

was led by the line of the Rue aux Herbes to the mouth of one of those roads which took its rise under the

gates of Nantes. One step more, and he was about to descend the stairs, take his trellised carriage, and go

towards the lodgings of M. Fouquet. But chance decreed that at the moment of recommencing his descent he

"What is that?" said the musketeer to himself; "a horse galloping, a runaway horse, no doubt. At what a pace

he is going!" The moving point became detached from the road, and entered into the fields. "A white horse,"

continued the captain, who had just seen the color thrown out luminously against the dark ground, "and he is

mounted; it must be some boy whose horse is thirsty and has run away with him across lots to the drinking

place." These reflections, rapid as lightning, simultaneous with visual perception, d'Artagnan had already

forgotten when he descended the first steps of the staircase. Some morsels of paper were spread over the

stairs, and shone out white against the dirty stones. "Eh, eh!" said the captain to himself, "here are some of

the fragments of the note torn by M. Fouquet. Poor man! he had given his secret to the wind; the wind will

have no more to do with it, and brings it back to the King. Decidedly, Fouquet, you play with misfortune!

The game is not a fair one, fortune is against you. The star of Louis XIV obscures yours; the adder is

stronger and more cunning than the squirrel." D'Artagnan picked up one of these morsels of paper as he

descended. "Gourville's pretty little hand," cried he, while examining one of the fragments of the note; "I was

not mistaken." And he read the word "horse." "Stop!" said he; and he examined another upon which there

was not a letter traced. Upon a third he read the word "white," "white horse," repeated he, like a child that is

spelling. "Ah, mordioux!" cried the suspicious spirit, "a white horse!" And like that grain of powder which

burning dilates into a centupled volume, d'Artagnan, enlarged by ideas and suspicions, rapidly reascended the

stairs towards the terrace. The white horse was still galloping in the direction of the Loire, at the extremity of

which, merging with the vapors of the water, a little sail appeared, balancing like an atom. "Oh, oh!" cried the

musketeer, "no one but a man escaping danger would go at that pace across ploughed lands; there is only

Fouquet, a financier, to ride thus in open day upon a white horse; there is no one but the lord of BelleIsle

who would make his escape towards the sea, while there are such thick forests on the land; and there is but

one d'Artagnan in the world to catch M. Fouquet, who has half an hour's start, and who will have gained his

This being said, the musketeer gave orders that the carriage with the iron trellis should be taken immediately

to a thicket situated just outside the city. He selected his best horse, jumped upon his back, galloped along the

Rue aux Herbes, taking, not the road Fouquet had taken, but the very bank of the Loire, certain that he should

gain ten minutes upon the total of the distance, and at the intersection of the two lines come up with the

fugitive, who could have no suspicion of being pursued in that direction. In the rapidity of the pursuit, and

with the impatience of a persecutor animating himself in the chase as in war, d'Artagnan, so mild, so kind

towards Fouquet, was surprised to find himself become ferocious and almost sanguinary. For a long time he

galloped without catching sight of the white horse. His fury assumed the tints of rage; he doubted himself; he

suspected that Fouquet had buried himself in some subterranean road, or that he had changed the white horse

for one of those famous black ones, as swift as the wind, which d'Artagnan at St. Mande had so frequently

At these moments, when the wind cut his eyes so as to make the water spring from them; when the saddle had

become burning hot; when the galled and spurred horse reared with pain and threw behind him a shower of

dust and stones, d'Artagnan, raising himself in his stirrups, and seeing nothing on the waters, nothing

beneath the trees, looked up into the air like a madman. He was losing his senses. In the paroxysms of his

eagerness he dreamed of aerial ways, the discovery of the following century; he called to his mind Daedalus

and his vast wings, which saved him from the prisons of Crete. A hoarse sigh broke from his lips as he

repeated, devoured by the fear of ridicule, "I! I! duped by a Gourville! I! They will say I am growing old;

they will say I have received a million to allow Fouquet to escape!" And he again dug his spurs into the sides

of his horse; he had ridden astonishingly fast. Suddenly, at the extremity of some open pastureground

behind the hedges, he saw a white form which showed itself, disappeared, and at last remained distinctly

visible upon a rising ground. D'Artagnan's heart leaped with joy. He wiped the streaming sweat from his

brow, relaxed the tension of his knees, freed from which the horse breathed more freely, and gathering up

his reins, moderated the speed of the vigorous animal, his active accomplice in this manhunt. He had then

time to study the direction of the road and his position with regard to Fouquet. The superintendent had

completely winded his horse by crossing the soft grounds. He felt the necessity of gaining a more firm

footing, and turned towards the road by the shortest secant line. D'Artagnan, on his part, had nothing to do

but to ride straight beneath the sloping shore, which concealed him from the eyes of his enemy; so that he

would cut him off on his reaching the road. Then the real race would begin; then the struggle would be in

D'Artagnan gave his horse good breathingtime. He observed that the superintendent had relaxed into a trot;

that is to say, he likewise was indulging his horse. But both of them were too much pressed for time to allow

them to continue long at that pace. The white horse sprang off like an arrow the moment his feet touched firm

ground. D'Artagnan dropped his hand, and his black horse broke into a gallop. Both followed the same route;

the quadruple echoes of the course were confounded. Fouquet had not yet perceived d'Artagnan. But on

issuing from the slope a single echo struck the air; it was that of the steps of d'Artagnan's horse, which rolled

along like thunder. Fouquet turned round, and saw behind him within a hundred paces his enemy bent over

the neck of his horse. There could be no doubt the shining baldric, the red uniform it was a musketeer.

Fouquet slackened his hand likewise, and the white horse placed twenty feet more between his adversary and

"Oh, but," thought d'Artagnan, becoming very anxious, "that is not a common horse M. Fouquet is upon; let

us see!" And he attentively examined with his infallible eye the shape and capabilities of the courser. Round

full quarters, a thin long tail, large hocks, thin legs dry as bars of steel, hoofs hard as marble. He spurred his

own, but the distance between the two remained the same. D'Artagnan listened attentively; not a breath of the

horse reached him, and yet he seemed to cut the air. The black horse, on the contrary, began to blow like a

"I must overtake him, if I kill my horse," thought the musketeer; and he began to saw the mouth of the poor

animal, while he buried the rowels of his spurs in his sides. The maddened horse gained twenty toises, and

"Courage!" said the musketeer to himself, "courage! the white horse will perhaps grow weaker; and if the

horse does not fall, the master must fall at last." But horse and rider remained upright together, gaining

ground by degrees. D'Artagnan uttered a wild cry, which made Fouquet turn round, and added speed to the

"A famous horse! a mad rider!" growled the captain. "Hola! mordioux! M. Fouquet! stop! in the King's

D'Artagnan was nearly mad; the blood rushed boiling to his temples and his eyes. "In the King's name!" cried

D'Artagnan seized a pistol and cocked it, hoping that the noise of the spring would stop his enemy. "You

Fouquet did turn round at the noise, and looking d'Artagnan full in the face, opened with his right hand the

part of his dress which concealed his body, but he did not touch his holsters. There were twenty paces

"Mordioux!" said d'Artagnan, "I will not kill you; if you will not fire upon me, surrender! What is a prison?"

D'Artagnan, drunk with despair, hurled his pistol to the ground. "I will take you alive!" said he; and by a

prodigy of skill of which this incomparable horseman alone was capable, he urged his horse forward to

within ten paces of the white horse, already his hand being stretched out to seize his prey.

At this moment his horse made a false step for the second time, and Fouquet's again took the lead. It was an

unheardof spectacle, this race between two horses which were only kept alive by the will of their riders. To

the furious gallop had succeeded the fast trot, and then the simple trot; and the race appeared equally warm to

the two fatigued athletes. D'Artagnan, quite in despair, seized his second pistol, and cocked it. "At your

horse! not at you!" cried he to Fouquet. And he fired. The animal was hit in the rump; he made a furious

"I am dishonored!" thought the musketeer; "I am a miserable wretch!" Then he cried, "For pity's sake, M.

Fouquet, throw me one of your pistols that I may blow out my brains!" But Fouquet rode on.

"For mercy's sake! for mercy's sake!" cried d'Artagnan; "that which you will not do at this moment, I myself

will do within an hour. But here upon this road I should die bravely, I should die esteemed; do me that

M. Fouquet made no reply, but continued to trot on. D'Artagnan began to run after his enemy. Successively

he threw off his hat, his coat, which embarrassed him, and then the sheath of his sword, which got between

his legs as he was running. The sword in his hand even became too heavy, and he threw it after the sheath.

The white horse began to rattle in his throat; d'Artagnan gained upon him. From a trot the exhausted animal

sunk to a staggering walk; the foam from his mouth was mixed with blood. D'Artagnan made a desperate

effort, sprang towards Fouquet, and seized him by the leg, saying in a broken, breathless voice, "I arrest you

in the King's name! blow my brains out, if you like; we have both done our duty."

Fouquet hurled far from him into the river the two pistols which d'Artagnan might have seized, and

dismounting from his horse, "I am your prisoner, Monsieur," said he; "will you take my arm, for I see you are

"Thanks!" murmured d'Artagnan, who in fact felt the earth moving from under his feet, and the sky melting

away over his head; and he rolled upon the sand without breath or strength. Fouquet hastened to the brink of

the river, dipped some water in his hat, with which he bathed the temples of the musketeer, and introduced a

few drops between his lips. D'Artagnan raised himself up, looking round with a wandering eye. He saw

Fouquet on his knees, with his wet hat in his hand, smiling upon him with ineffable sweetness. "You are not

gone, then?" cried he. "Oh, Monsieur! the true King in loyalty, in heart, in soul, is not Louis of the Louvre or

"I should have had you for a friend! But how shall we return to Nantes? We are a great way from it."

"The white horse will recover, perhaps; he is a good horse! Mount, M. d'Artagnan; I will walk till you have

"He will go, I tell you; I know him. But we can do better still, let us both mount."

But they had scarcely charged the animal with this double load when he began to stagger, then with a great

effort walked a few minutes, then staggered again, and sank down dead by the side of the black horse, which

"We will go on foot; destiny wills it so. The walk will be pleasant," said Fouquet, passing his arm through

"Mordioux!" cried the latter, with a fixed eye, a contracted brow, and a swelling heart. "A disgraceful day!"

They walked slowly the four leagues which separated them from the little wood behind which waited the

carriage with the escort. When Fouquet perceived that sinister machine, he said to d'Artagnan, who cast down

his eyes as if ashamed of Louis XIV, "There is an idea which is not that of a brave man, Captain d'Artagnan;

Fouquet reflected for a moment, then looking the captain full in the face, "One single word," said he; "will

IT WAS two o'clock in the afternoon. The King, full of impatience, went to his cabinet on the terrace, and

kept opening the door of the corridor to see what his secretaries were doing. M. Colbert, seated in the same

place M. de SaintAignan had so long occupied in the morning, was chatting in a low voice with M. de

Brienne. The King opened the door suddenly, and addressing them, "What do you say?" asked he.

"We were speaking of the first sitting of the States," said M. de Brienne, rising.

"M. Colbert," said the King, very sharply, "it must be ascertained what is become of M. d'Artagnan."

Colbert in his calm voice replied, "Where would your Majesty desire him to be sought for?"

"Eh, Monsieur! do you not know to what place I have sent him?" replied Louis, acrimoniously.

"Monsieur, there are things that are to be guessed; and you, above all others, do guess them."

Colbert had not finished these words when a much rougher voice than the King's interrupted the interesting

D'Artagnan, pale and in furious humor, cried to the King as he entered, "Sire, is it your Majesty who has

"Ah, ah!" said d'Artagnan, biting his mustache; "I was not mistaken, then; it was Monsieur here!" and he

"Orders to turn a house inside out, to beat M. Fouquet's servants, to force the drawers, to give over a peaceful

"Monsieur," interrupted d'Artagnan, "the King alone, understand, the King alone has a right to command my

Musketeers; but as to you, I forbid you to do it, and I tell you so before his Majesty. Gentlemen who wear

"It is humiliating," continued the musketeer; "my soldiers are disgraced. I do not command reitres, nor clerks

"About this, Sire: Monsieur Monsieur, who could not guess your Majesty's orders, and consequently could

not know I was gone to arrest M. Fouquet; Monsieur, who has caused the iron cage to be constructed for his

patron of yesterday has sent M. de Roncherat to the lodgings of M. Fouquet, and under pretence of taking

away the superintendent's papers they have taken away the furniture. My Musketeers have been placed round

the house all the morning; such were my orders. Why did any one presume to order them to enter? Why, by

forcing them to assist in this pillage, have they been made accomplices in it? Mordioux! we serve the King,

"M. d'Artagnan," said the King, sternly, "take care! It is not in my presence that such explanations, and made

"I have acted for the good of the King," said Colbert, in a faltering voice; "it is hard to be so treated by one of

your Majesty's officers, and that without vengeance, on account of the respect I owe the King."

"The respect you owe the King," cried d'Artagnan, his eyes flashing fire, "consists in the first place in making

his authority respected and his person beloved. Every agent of a power without control represents that power,

and when people curse the hand which strikes them, it is to the royal hand that God makes the reproach, do

you hear? Must a soldier hardened by forty years of wounds and blood give you this lesson, Monsieur? Must

mercy be on my side, and ferocity on yours? You have caused the innocent to be arrested, bound, and

"Who told you that M. Fouquet had accomplices, or even that he was guilty? The King alone knows that; his

justice is not blind! When he shall say, 'Arrest and imprison' such and such people, then he shall be obeyed.

Do not talk to me then any more of the respect you owe the King; and be careful of your words, that they may

not chance to convey any menace, for the King will not allow those to be threatened who do him service by

others who do him disservice. And in case I should have which God forbid! a master so ungrateful, I

Thus saying, d'Artagnan took his station haughtily in the King's cabinet, his eye flashing, his hand on his

sword, his lips trembling, affecting much more anger than he really felt. Colbert, humiliated and devoured

with rage, bowed to the King as if to ask his permission to leave the room. The King, drawn in opposite

directions by his pride and by his curiosity, knew not which part to take. D'Artagnan saw him hesitate. To

remain longer would have been an error; it was necessary to obtain a triumph over Colbert, and the only

means was to touch the King so near and so strongly to the quick that his Majesty would have no other means

of extricating himself but by choosing between the two antagonists. D'Artagnan then bowed as Colbert had

done; but the King, who in preference to everything else was anxious to have all the exact details of the arrest

of the Superintendent of the Finances from him who had made him tremble for a moment, the King,

perceiving that the illhumor of d'Artagnan would put off for half an hour at least the details he was burning

to be acquainted with, Louis, we say, forgot Colbert, who had nothing new to tell him, and recalled his

captain of the Musketeers. "In the first place," said he, "let me see the result of your commission, Monsieur;

D'Artagnan, who was just passing through the door, stopped at the voice of the King, retraced his steps, and

Colbert was forced to leave the cabinet. His countenance assumed almost a purple hue, his black and

threatening eyes shone with a dark fire beneath their thick brows; he stepped out, bowed before the King, half

D'Artagnan, on being left alone with the King, softened immediately, and composing his countenance, "Sire,"

said he, "you are a young King. It is by the dawn that people judge whether the day will be fine or dull. How,

Sire, will the people whom the hand of God has placed under your law argue of your reign, if between you

and them you allow angry and violent ministers to act? But let us speak of myself, Sire; let us leave a

discussion that may appear idle and perhaps inconvenient to you. Let us speak of myself. I have arrested M.

D'Artagnan looked at the King. "I perceive that I have expressed myself badly. I announced to your Majesty

"Well, I ought to have told your Majesty that M. Fouquet had arrested me; that would have been more just. I

It was now the turn of Louis XIV to be surprised. His Majesty was astonished. D'Artagnan, with his quick

glance, appreciated what was passing in the heart of his master. He did not allow him time to put any

questions. He related, with that poetry, that picturesqueness, which perhaps he alone possessed at that period,

the escape of Fouquet, the pursuit, the furious race, and, lastly, the inimitable generosity of the

superintendent, who might have fled ten times over, who might have killed the adversary sent in pursuit of

him, and who had preferred imprisonment, and perhaps worse, to the humiliation of him who wished to take

his liberty from him. In proportion as the tale advanced, the King became agitated, devouring the narrator's

"It results from this, then, Sire, in my eyes at least, that the man who conducts himself thus is a gallant man,

and cannot be an enemy to the King. That is my opinion, and I repeat it to your Majesty. I know what the

King will say to me, and I bow to it, reasons of state. So be it! that in my eyes is very respectable. But I am

a soldier, I have received my orders; my orders are executed, very unwillingly on my part, it is true, but they

"M. Fouquet, Sire," replied d'Artagnan, "is in the iron cage that M. Colbert had prepared for him, and is going

"Because your Majesty did not tell me to go to Angers. The proof, the best proof of what I advance, is that

the King desired me to be sought for but this minute; and then I have another reason."

"Your Majesty ought to understand, and does understand, certainly, that my warmest wish is to know that M.

Fouquet is at liberty. I have given him to one of my brigadiers, the most stupid I could find among my

"Are you mad, M. d'Artagnan?" cried the King, crossing his arms on his breast. "Do people speak such

"Ah, Sire, you cannot expect that I should be the enemy of M. Fouquet after what he has just done for you

and me. No, no; if you desire that he should remain under your locks and bolts, never give him in charge to

me; however closely wired might be the cage, the bird would in the end fly away."

"I am surprised," said the King, in a stern tone, "that you have not followed the fortunes of him whom M.

Fouquet wished to place upon my throne. You had in him all you want, affection and gratitude. In my

"If M. Fouquet had not gone to seek you in the Bastille, Sire," replied d'Artagnan, with a deeply impressive

manner, "one single man would have gone there, and that man is myself, you know that right well, Sire."

The King was brought to a pause. Before that speech of his captain of the Musketeers, so frankly spoken and

so true, the King had nothing to offer. On hearing d'Artagnan, Louis remembered the d'Artagnan of former

times, the man who at the PalaisRoyal held himself concealed behind the curtains of his bed when the

people of Paris, led on by Cardinal de Retz, came to assure themselves of the presence of the King; the

d'Artagnan whom he saluted with his hand at the door of his carriage when repairing to NotreDame on his

return to Paris; the soldier who had quitted his service at Blois; the lieutenant whom he had recalled near his

person when the death of Mazarin gave him back the power; the man he had always found loyal, courageous,

and devoted. Louis advanced towards the door and called Colbert. Colbert had not left the corridor where the

"M. de Roncherat, who was sent with your Majesty's Musketeers, has remitted me some papers," replied

"Yes, that I may place it in that of M. d'Artagnan. In fact, M. d'Artagnan," added he, with a smile, turning

towards the soldier, who at the sight of the clerk had resumed his haughty attitude, "you do not know this

man; make his acquaintance." And he pointed to Colbert. "He has been but a moderate servant in subaltern

"I have understood why," murmured d'Artagnan in the King's ear, "he was jealous."

"He will henceforth be a winged serpent," grumpled the musketeer, with a remnant of hatred against his

But Colbert, approaching him, offered to his eyes a countenance so different from that which he had been

accustomed to see him wear; he appeared so good, so mild, so easy; his eyes took the expression of an

intelligence so noble, that d'Artagnan, a connoisseur in faces, was moved, and almost changed in his

"That which the King has just told you, Monsieur, proves how well his Majesty is acquainted with men. The

inveterate opposition I have displayed up to this day against abuses and not against men, proves that I had it

in view to prepare for my King a great reign, for my country a great blessing. I have many ideas, M.

d'Artagnan. You will see them expand in the sun of public peace; and if I have not the certainty and good

fortune to conquer the friendship of honest men, I am at least certain, Monsieur, that I shall obtain their

This change, this sudden elevation, this mute approbation of the King, gave the musketeer matter for much

reflection. He bowed civilly to Colbert, who did not take his eyes off him. The King, when he saw they were

reconciled, dismissed them. They left the room together. As soon as they were out of the cabinet, the new

minister, stopping the captain, said, "Is it possible, M. d'Artagnan, that with such an eye as yours, you have

not at the first glance, at the first inspection, discovered what sort of man I am?"

"M. Colbert," replied the musketeer, "the ray of the sun which we have in our eyes, prevents us from seeing

the most ardent flames. The man in power radiates, you know; and since you are there, why should you

continue to persecute him who has just fallen into disgrace, and fallen from such a height?"

"I, Monsieur!" said Colbert; "oh, Monsieur! I would never persecute him. I wished to administer the finances,

and to administer them alone, because I am ambitious, and, above all, because I have the most entire

confidence in my own merit; because I know that all the gold of this country will fall beneath my eyes, and I

love to look at the King's gold; because, if I live thirty years, in thirty years not a denier of it will remain in

my hands; because with that gold I will build granaries, edifices, cities, and will dig ports; because I will

create a marine, will equip navies which shall bear the name of France to the most distant peoples; because I

will create libraries and academies; because I will make of France the first country in the world, and the

richest. These are the motives for my animosity against M. Fouquet, who prevented my acting. And then,

when I shall be great and strong, when France is great and strong, in my turn then I will cry, 'Mercy!'"

"Mercy, did you say? then ask his liberty of the King. The King crushes him only on your account."

Colbert again raised his head. "Monsieur," said he, "you know that it is not so, and that the King has his

"The King never forgets, M. d'Artagnan. Hark! the King calls. He is going to issue an order. I have not

"Give twenty of your Musketeers to M. de SaintAignan, to form a guard for M. Fouquet."

D'Artagnan and Colbert exchanged looks. "And from Angers," continued the King, "they will conduct the

"SaintAignan," continued the King, "you will have any one shot who shall attempt to speak privately with

"You, Monsieur, you will only speak to him in the presence of the Musketeers." The duke bowed, and

D'Artagnan was about to retire likewise; but the King stopped him. "Monsieur," said he, "you will go

"You will take a sufficient number of troops to prevent delay, in case the place should be contumacious."

"I saw the place in my infancy," resumed the King, "and I do not wish to see it again. You have heard me?

Colbert went up to d'Artagnan. "A commission which if you carry it out well," said he, "will be worth a

"You have friends in BelleIsle, M. d'Artagnan; and it is not an easy thing for men like you to march over the

D'Artagnan hung down his head, while Colbert returned to the King. A quarter of an hour after, the captain

received the written order from the King to blow up the fortress of BelleIsle in case of resistance, with the

power of life and death over all the inhabitants or refugees, and an injunction not to allow one to escape.

"Colbert was right," thought d'Artagnan, "my baton of a marshal of France will cost the lives of my two

friends. Only they seem to forget that my friends are not more stupid than the birds, and that they will not

wait for the hand of the fowler to extend their wings. I will show them that hand so plainly that they will have

quite time enough to see it. Poor Porthos! poor Aramis! No; my fortune shall not cost your wings a feather."

Having thus determined, d'Artagnan assembled the royal army, embarked it at Paimboeuf, and set sail

AT THE extremity of the pier, upon the promenade which the furious sea beats at evening tide, two men,

holding each other by the arm, were conversing in an animated and expansive tone, without the possibility of

any other human being hearing their words, borne away, as they were, one by one, by the gusts of wind with

the white foam swept from the crests of the waves. The sun had just gone down in the vast sheet of ocean, red

like a gigantic crucible. From time to time, one of these men, turning towards the east, cast an anxious,

inquiring look over the sea. The other, interrogating the features of his companion, seemed to seek for

information in his looks. Then, both silent, both busied with dismal thoughts, they resumed their walk. Every

one has already perceived that those two men were our proscribed heroes, Porthos and Aramis, who had

taken refuge in BelleIsle since the ruin of their hopes, since the discomfiture of the vast plan of M.

"It is of no use your saying anything to the contrary, my dear Aramis," repeated Porthos, inhaling vigorously

the saline air with which he filled his powerful chest. "It is of no use, Aramis. The disappearance of all the

fishingboats that went out two days ago is not an ordinary circumstance. There has been no storm at sea; the

weather has been constantly calm, not even the slightest gale; and even if we had had a tempest, all our boats

would not have foundered. I repeat, it is strange. This complete disappearance astonishes me, I tell you."

"True," murmured Aramis. "You are right, friend Porthos; it is true, there is something strange in it."

"And further," added Porthos, whose ideas the assent of the Bishop of Vannes seemed to enlarge, "and

further, have you remarked that if the boats have perished, not a single plank has been washed ashore?"

"Have you remarked, besides, that the only two boats we had left in the whole island, and which I sent in

Aramis here interrupted his companion by a cry, and by so sudden a movement that Porthos stopped as if he

"In search of the others. Yes; to be sure I have," replied Porthos, quite simply.

"Lost! What did you say?" exclaimed the terrified Porthos. "How lost, Aramis? How are we lost?"

"That if we were inclined if we took a fancy to make an excursion by sea, we could not."

"Very good! and why should that vex you? A fine pleasure, ma foi! For my part, I don't regret it at all. What I

regret is certainly not the more or less amusement we can find at BelleIsle; what I regret, Aramis, is

Pierrefonds, is Bracieux, is Le Vallon, is my beautiful France! Here we are not in France, my dear friend; we

are I know not where. Oh! I tell you in the full sincerity of my soul, and your affection will excuse my

frankness, but I declare to you I am not happy at BelleIsle. No; in good truth, I am not happy!"

Aramis breathed a stifled sigh. "Dear friend," replied he, "that is why it is so sad a thing you have sent the

two boats we had left in search of those which disappeared two days ago. If you had not sent them away, we

"Parbleu! Why, the orders you have been constantly and on all occasions repeating to me, that we were to

"You see, then, plainly, my friend, that we could not depart; and that the sending away of the boats in search

Aramis was silent; and his vague glance, luminous as that of a gull, hovered for a long time over the sea,

"With all that, Aramis," continued Porthos, who adhered to his idea, and that the more closely since the

bishop had found it correct, "with all that, you give me no explanation about what can have happened to

these unfortunate boats. I am assailed by cries and complaints whichever way I go. The children cry at seeing

the desolation of the women, as if I could restore the absent husbands and fathers. What do you suppose, my

This reply did not satisfy Porthos at all. He turned away, and grumbled some words in a very ill humor.

Aramis stopped the valiant soldier. "Do you remember," said he, in a melancholy tone, pressing the two

hands of the giant between his own with an affectionate cordiality, "do you remember, my friend, that in the

glorious days of our youth do you remember, Porthos, when we were all strong and valiant we and the

other two if we had then had an inclination to return to France, do you think this sheet of salt water would

"If you had seen me get astride of a plank, would you have remained on land, Porthos?"

"No, pardieu! No, Aramis. But nowadays what sort of a plank should we want, my friend, I, in particular?"

And the Seigneur de Bracieux cast a proud glance over his colossal rotundity, with a loud laugh. "And do you

mean seriously to say that you are not a little tired of BelleIsle also, and that you would not prefer the

"Let us stay where we are then," said his friend, with a sigh which in spite of the efforts he made to restrain it

escaped with a loud report from his breast. "Let us remain! let us remain! And yet," added he, "and yet, if

we seriously wished, but that decidedly, if we had a fixed idea, one firmly taken, to return to France, and

"Have you remarked another thing, my friend? that is, since the disappearance of our boats, during the two

days' absence of the fishermen, not a single small boat has landed on the shores of the isle?"

"Yes, certainly; you are right. I have remarked it also; and the observation was the more naturally made, for

"I must inquire," said Aramis, suddenly, and with emphasis. "And then, if I had a raft constructed"

"A canoe! a canoe! Can you think of such a thing, Porthos? A canoe to be upset in! No, no," said the Bishop

of Vannes; "it is not our trade to ride upon the waves. We will wait; we will wait."

And Aramis continued walking about with increased agitation. Porthos, who grew tired of following all the

feverish movements of his friend; Porthos, who in his calmness and trust understood nothing of the sort of

exasperation which was betrayed by the bishop's continual convulsive starts, Porthos stopped him. "Let us

sit down upon this rock," said he. "Place yourself there, close to me, Aramis, and I conjure you for the last

time to explain to me in a manner I can comprehend, explain to me what we are doing here."

"I know that the false king wished to dethrone the true king. That is a fact that I understand. Well"

"I know that the false king formed the project of selling BelleIsle to the English. I understand that too."

"I know that we engineers and captains came and threw ourselves into BelleIsle to take the direction of the

works and the command of the ten companies levied and paid by M. Fouquet, or rather the ten companies of

Aramis arose in a state of great impatience. He might be said to be a lion importuned by a gnat. Porthos held

him by the arm. "But what I cannot understand, what in spite of all the efforts of my mind and all my

reflections I cannot comprehend and never shall comprehend, is, that instead of sending us troops, instead of

sending us reinforcements of men, munitions, and provisions, they leave us without boats, they leave

BelleIsle without arrivals, without help; it is that instead of establishing with us a correspondence, whether

by signals or written or verbal communications, they intercept all relations with us. Tell me, Aramis; answer

me, or rather, before answering me, will you allow me to tell you what I have thought? Will you hear what

The bishop raised his head. "Well, Aramis," continued Porthos, "I have thought, I have had an idea; I have

imagined that an event has taken place in France. I dreamed of M. Fouquet all the night; I dreamed of dead

fish, broken eggs, chambers badly furnished, meanly kept. Bad dreams, my dear d'Herblay; very unlucky,

"Porthos, what is that yonder?" interrupted Aramis, rising suddenly, and pointing out to his friend a black

"A boat!" said Porthos; "yes, it is a boat! Ah! we shall have some news at last."

"There are two!" cried the bishop, on discovering another mast; "two! three! four!"

"Five!" said Porthos, in his turn. "Six! seven! Ah, mon Dieu! mon Dieu! it is a whole fleet!"

"Our boats returning, probably," said Aramis, very uneasily, in spite of the assurance he affected.

"They are very large for fishingboats," observed Porthos; "and do you not remark, my friend, that they come

"And look! everybody here sees them as well as ourselves; look, the women and children are beginning to get

upon the jetty!" An old fisherman passed. "Are those our boats yonder?" asked Aramis.

The old man looked steadily into the horizon. "No, Monseigneur," replied he; "they are lighterboats in the

"But," said Porthos, "the boat is scarcely visible; how the devil, my friend, can you distinguish the flag?"

"I see there is one," replied the old man; "our boats, or tradelighters, do not carry any. That sort of craft is

"Vivat!" cried Porthos, "they are sending us reinforcements; don't you think they are, Aramis?"

"By the Loire? That would have an ill look, Porthos, for they must have come through Paris!"

Aramis leaned his head upon his hand and made no reply. Then, all at once, "Porthos," said he, "have the

"Yes, and let the cannoneers mount to their batteries; let the artillerymen be at their pieces, and be

particularly watchful of the coast batteries." Porthos opened his eyes to their widest extent. He looked

attentively at his friend, to convince himself that he was in his proper senses.

"I will do it, my dear Porthos," continued Aramis, in his most bland tone; "I will go and have these orders

"Well, I will go instantly!" said Porthos, going to execute the order, casting all the while looks behind him to

see if the Bishop of Vannes were not making a mistake, and if, on returning to more rational ideas, he would

not recall him. The alarm was sounded, the trumpets brayed, and drums rolled; the great bell of the belfry was

put in motion. The dikes and piers were quickly filled with the curious and soldiers; the matches sparkled in

the hands of the artillerymen, placed behind the large cannon bedded in their stone carriages. When every

man was at his post, when all the preparations for the defence were made, "Permit me, Aramis, to try to

"My dear friend, you will comprehend but too soon," murmured M. d'Herblay, in reply to this question of his

"The fleet which is coming yonder with sail unfurled straight towards the port of BelleIsle, is a royal fleet, is

"But as there are two Kings in France, Porthos, to which of these two Kings does this fleet belong?"

And Porthos, whose eyes his friend's reply had just opened, or rather, had thickened the bandage which

covered his sight, went with his best speed to the batteries to overlook his people and exhort every one to do

his duty. In the mean time Aramis, with his eyes fixed on the horizon, saw the ships continue to draw nearer.

The people and the soldiers, mounted upon all the summits or irregularities of the rocks, could distinguish the

masts, then the lower sails, and at last the hulls of the lighters, bearing at the masthead the royal flag of

France. It was quite night when one of these vessels which had created such a sensation among the

inhabitants of BelleIsle was moored within cannonshot of the place. It was soon seen, notwithstanding the

darkness, that a sort of agitation reigned on board this vessel, from the side of which a skiff was lowered, of

which the three rowers, bending to their oars, took the direction of the port, and in a few instants struck land

at the foot of the fort. The commander of this yawl jumped on shore. He had a letter in his hand, which he

waved in the air, and seemed to wish to communicate with somebody. This man was soon recognized by

several soldiers as one of the pilots of the island. He was the skipper of one of the two boats kept back by

Aramis, which Porthos, in his anxiety with regard to the fate of the fishermen who had disappeared for two

days, had sent in search of the missing boats. He asked to be conducted to M. d'Herblay. Two soldiers, at a

signal from the sergeant, placed him between them and escorted him. Aramis was upon the quay. The envoy

presented himself before the Bishop of Vannes. The darkness was almost complete, notwithstanding the

torches borne at a small distance by the soldiers who were following Aramis in his rounds.

"Well, Monseigneur, within a short league we were captured by a chassemaree belonging to the King."

"We were captured, Monseigneur, and joined to those who had been taken yesterday morning."

Porthos was again at a loss to comprehend. "And they have released you today?" asked he.

During this time Aramis was reflecting. "Humph!" said he; "then I suppose it is a royal fleet blockading the

"Signed: D'ARTAGNAN, who the day before yesterday arrested M. Fouquet that he might be sent to the

"Monsieur the Musketeer," continued Jonathas, "told me to take you both on board my canoe and bring you

But Aramis stopped him. "Are you mad?" cried he. "Who knows that it is not a snare?"

"Yes, Monseigneur," replied Jonathas; "but if the captain should refuse to come to BelleIsle?"

"I will make you comprehend all, my dear friend; the time for it is come. Sit down upon this guncarriage,

"Yes; go and bring back an answer. Allow the canoe to pass, you men there!" and the canoe pushed off to

"WHAT I have to say to you, friend Porthos, will probably surprise you, but it will instruct you."

"I like to be surprised," said Porthos, in a kindly tone; "do not spare me, therefore, I beg. I am hardened

"It is difficult, Porthos, it is difficult; for in truth I warn you again I have very strange things, very

"Oh, you speak so well, my friend, that I could listen to you for days together. Speak, then, I beg; and stop, I

have an idea: I will, to make your task more easy, to assist you in telling me such things, question you."

"If you put to me many such questions as that, if that is your way of assisting my task of revelation, by such

questions as that, Porthos, you will not help me at all. On the contrary, that is precisely the Gordian knot.

But, my friend, with a man like you, good, generous, and devoted, the confession must be made bravely. I

"Then," said the honest Seigneur de Bracieux, "you have rendered me a service, and I thank you for it, for if

you had not deceived me, I might have deceived myself. In what, then, have you deceived me?"

"In that I was serving the usurper against whom Louis XIV at this moment is directing his efforts."

"The usurper!" said Porthos, scratching his head. "That is well, I do not too clearly comprehend that!"

"Oh, but, dear Porthos, be calm! we shall still find means of getting out of the affair, trust me."

"It is not that which makes me uneasy," replied Porthos; "that which alone touches me is that ugly word

Porthos began to bite his nails after a melancholy fashion. "That is where you have been wrong," continued

he, "in deceiving me; for that promised duchy I reckoned upon. Oh, I reckoned upon it seriously, knowing

"So, then," continued Porthos, without replying to the bishop's prayer, "so then, it seems, I have quite fallen

"Oh, I will settle all that, my good friend; I will settle all that. I will take it upon myself alone!"

"No, no, Porthos, I conjure you, let me act. No false generosity; no inopportune devotedness! You knew

nothing of my projects; you have done nothing of yourself. With me it is different. I alone am the author of

the plot. I stood in need of my inseparable companion; I called upon you, and you came to me in

remembrance of our ancient device, 'All for one, one for all.' My crime was that of being an egotist."

"Now, that is the word I like," said Porthos; "and seeing that you have acted entirely for yourself, it is

impossible for me to blame you. It is so natural." And upon this sublime reflection, Porthos pressed the hand

In presence of this ingenuous greatness of soul, Aramis felt himself little. It was the second time he had been

compelled to bend before real superiority of heart, much more powerful than splendor of mind. He replied by

"Now," said Porthos, "that we have come to an explanation, now that I am perfectly aware of our situation

with respect to Louis XIV, I think, my friend, it is time to make me comprehend the political intrigue of

which we are the victims, for I plainly see there is a political intrigue at the bottom of all this."

"D'Artagnan, my good Porthos, d'Artagnan is coming and will detail it to you in all its circumstances; but

excuse me, I am overcome with grief, bowed down by pain, and I have need of all my presence of mind, of

all my reflection, to extricate you from the false position in which I have so imprudently involved you; but

nothing can be more clear, nothing more plain, than your position henceforth. The King, Louis XIV, has now

but one enemy; that enemy is myself, myself alone. I have made you a prisoner, you have followed me;

today I liberate you, you fly back to your Prince. You can perceive, Porthos, there is not a single difficulty

"Then why," said the admirable good sense of Porthos, "then why, if we are in such an easy position, why,

my friend, do we prepare cannon, muskets, and engines of all sorts? It seems to me it would be much more

simple to say to Captain d'Artagnan, 'My dear friend, we have been mistaken; that error is to be repaired.

"The possibility that d'Artagnan may come with orders which will oblige us to defend ourselves."

"What! defend ourselves against d'Artagnan? Folly! Against the good d'Artagnan?"

Aramis once more replied by shaking his head. "Porthos," at length said he, "if I have had the matches lighted

and the guns pointed; if I have had the signal of alarm sounded; if I have called every man to his post upon

the ramparts, those good ramparts of BelleIsle which you have so well fortified, it is for something. Wait

"But there is one thing much more simple than defending ourselves, a boat, and away for France where"

"My dear friend," said Aramis, smiling with a sort of melancholy, "do not let us reason like children; let us be

men in counsel and execution. But, hark! I hear a hail for landing at the port. Attention, Porthos, serious

"It is d'Artagnan, no doubt," said Porthos, in a voice of thunder, approaching the parapet.

"Yes, it is I," replied the captain of the Musketeers, running lightly up the steps of the pier, and gaining

rapidly the little esplanade upon which his two friends waited for him. As soon as he came towards them

Porthos and Aramis observed an officer who followed d'Artagnan, treading apparently in his very steps. The

captain stopped upon the stairs of the pier when halfway up. His companion imitated him.

"Make your men draw back," cried d'Artagnan to Porthos and Aramis; "let them retire out of hearing." The

order being given by Porthos was executed immediately. Then d'Artagnan, turning towards him who

followed him, said, "Monsieur, we are no longer here on board the King's fleet, where, in virtue of your

"Monsieur," replied the officer, "I did not speak arrogantly to you; I simply but rigorously obeyed what I had

been commanded. I have been directed to follow you; I follow you. I am directed not to allow you to

communicate with any one without taking cognizance of what you do; I am present therefore at your

D'Artagnan trembled with rage, and Porthos and Aramis, who heard this dialogue, trembled likewise, but

with uneasiness and fear. D'Artagnan, biting his mustache with that vivacity which denoted in him the state

of exasperation closely to be followed by a terrible explosion, approached the officer.

"Monsieur," said he, in a low voice, the more impressive, because affecting a calm, and filled with storm,

"Monsieur, when I sent a canoe hither, you wished to know what I wrote to the defenders of BelleIsle. You

produced an order to that effect; and in my turn I instantly showed you the note I had written. When the

skipper of the boat sent by me returned; when I received the reply of these two gentlemen [pointing to Aramis

and Porthos], you heard every word the messenger said. All that was plainly in your orders, all that was well

"Monsieur," continued d'Artagnan, growing warm, "Monsieur, when I manifested the intention of quitting

my vessel to cross to BelleIsle, you insisted on coming with me. I did not hesitate; I brought you with me.

"But the question no longer is of M. Colbert, who has given you that order, or of any one in the world

whose instructions you are following; the question now is of a man who is a clog upon M. d'Artagnan, and

who is alone with M. d'Artagnan upon steps whose base is bathed by thirty feet of salt water, a bad position

"But, Monsieur, if I am a restraint upon you," said the officer timidly and almost faintly, "it is my duty

"Monsieur, you have had the misfortune, you, or those who sent you, to insult me. It is done. I cannot seek

redress from those who employ you, they are unknown to me, or are at too great a distance. But you are

under my hand, and I swear that if you make one step behind me when I lift a foot to go up to those

gentlemen, I swear to you by my name, I will cleave your head with my sword, and pitch you into the water.

Oh, that must come which will come! I have only been six times angry in my life, Monsieur, and in the five

The officer did not stir; he became pale under this terrible threat, and replied with simplicity, "Monsieur, you

Porthos and Aramis, mute and trembling at the top of the parapet, cried to the musketeer, "Dear d'Artagnan,

D'Artagnan made them a sign to keep silence, raised his foot with a terrifying calmness to mount the stair,

and turned round, sword in hand, to see if the officer followed him. The officer made a sign of the cross and

followed. Porthos and Aramis, who knew their d'Artagnan, uttered a cry, and rushed down to prevent the

blow which they thought they already heard. But d'Artagnan, passing his sword into his left hand, said to the

officer, in an agitated voice, "Monsieur, you are a brave man. You will better comprehend what I am going to

"These gentlemen we have just seen, and against whom you have orders, are my friends."

"You can understand if I ought to act towards them as your instructions prescribe."

"M. d'Artagnan, if I yielded to your request, if I did that which you beg me to do, I should break my word;

but if I do not do it, I shall disoblige you. I prefer the one to the other. Converse with your friends, and do not

despise me, Monsieur, for doing for the sake of you, whom I esteem and honor, do not despise me for

committing for you, and you alone, an unworthy act." D'Artagnan, much agitated, passed his arms rapidly

round the neck of the young man, and went up to his friends. The officer, enveloped in his cloak, sat down on

"Well!" said d'Artagnan to his friends, "such is my position, as you see." They all three embraced. All three

"Not much, I assure you, my dear captain, for, in fact, I have done nothing; no more has Aramis," the

D'Artagnan darted a reproachful look at the prelate which penetrated that hardened heart.

"You see what has been done against you," said d'Artagnan, "interception of all that is coming to or going

from BelleIsle. Your boats are all seized. If you had endeavored to fly, you would have fallen into the hands

of the cruisers which plough the sea in all directions on the watch for you. The King wants you to be taken,

and he will take you." And d'Artagnan tore several hairs from his gray mustache. Aramis became sombre,

"My idea was this," continued d'Artagnan: "to make you both come on board, to keep you near me, and

restore you your liberty. But now, who can say that when I return to my ship I may not find a superior; that I

may not find secret orders which will take from me my command, and give it to another, who will dispose of

"We must remain at BelleIsle," said Aramis, resolutely; "and I assure you, for my part, I will not surrender

D'Artagnan remarked the silence of his friend. "I have another trial to make of this officer, of this brave

fellow who accompanies me, whose courageous resistance makes me very happy, for it denotes an honest

man, who, although an enemy, is a thousand times better than a complaisant coward. Let us try to learn from

D'Artagnan came to the parapet, leaned over towards the steps of the pier, and called the officer, who

immediately came up. "Monsieur," said d'Artagnan, after having exchanged the most cordial courtesies,

natural between gentlemen who know and appreciate each other worthily, "Monsieur, if I wished to take

"I should not oppose it, Monsieur; but having direct orders, formal orders, to take them under my guard, I

"But still take Porthos," said the Bishop of Vannes; "he can prove to the King, I will help him in doing so,

"Hum!" said d'Artagnan. "Will you come? Will you follow me, Porthos? The King is merciful."

"Until we have had an idea," resumed d'Artagnan; "and I now believe that will not be a long time, for I have

"Let us say adieu, then," said Aramis; "but in truth, my good Porthos, you ought to go."

"As you please," replied Aramis, a little wounded in his nervous susceptibility at the morose tone of his

companion. "Only I am reassured by the promise of an idea from d'Artagnan, an idea I fancy I have

"Let us see," said the musketeer, placing his ear near Aramis's mouth. The latter spoke several words rapidly,

"During the first emotion that this resolution will cause, take care of yourself, Aramis."

"Now, Monsieur," said d'Artagnan to the officer, "thanks, a thousand thanks! You have made yourself three

D'Artagnan, having tenderly embraced his two old friends, left BelleIsle with the inseparable companion M.

Colbert had given him. Thus, with the exception of the explanation with which the worthy Porthos had been

willing to be satisfied, nothing apparently was changed in the condition of the one or of the other. "Only,"

D'Artagnan did not return on board without examining to the bottom the idea he had discovered. Now, we

know that when d'Artagnan did examine, he was accustomed to see through. As to the officer, become mute

again, he left him full leisure to meditate. Therefore, on putting his foot on board his vessel, moored within

cannonshot of the island, the captain of the Musketeers had already got together all his means, offensive and

He immediately assembled his council, which consisted of the officers serving under his orders. These were

eight in number, a chief of the maritime forces; a major directing the artillery; an engineer; the officer we

are acquainted with; and four lieutenants. Having assembled them in the chamber of the poop, d'Artagnan

arose, took off his hat, and addressed them thus: "Gentlemen, I have been to reconnoitre BelleIsleenMer,

and I have found in it a good and solid garrison; moreover, preparations are made for a defence that may

prove troublesome. I therefore intend to send for two of the principal officers of the place that we may

converse with them. Having separated them from their troops and their cannon, we shall be better able to deal

The major of artillery rose. "Monsieur," said he, with respect, but with firmness, "I have heard you say that

the place in preparing to make a troublesome defence. The place is, then, as you know, determined upon

D'Artagnan was visibly put out by this reply; but he was not a man to allow himself to be subdued by so little,

and resumed. "Monsieur," said he, "your reply is just. But you are ignorant that BelleIsle is a fief of M.

Fouquet, and the ancient kings gave the right to the seigneurs of BelleIsle to arm their people."

"Oh, do not interrupt me," continued d'Artagnan. "You are going to tell me that that right to arm themselves

against the English was not a right to arm themselves against their King. But it is not M. Fouquet, I suppose,

who holds BelleIsle at this moment, since I arrested M. Fouquet the day before yesterday. Now, the

inhabitants and defenders of BelleIsle know nothing of that arrest. You would announce it to them in vain. It

is a thing so unheard of and extraordinary, so unexpected, that they would not believe you. A Breton serves

his master, and not his masters; he serves his master till he has seen him dead. Now, the Bretons, as I know,

have not seen the body of M. Fouquet. It is not then surprising that they hold out against everything which is

"That is why," continued d'Artagnan, "I propose to cause two of the principal officers of the garrison to come

on board my vessel. They will see you, gentlemen; they will see the forces we have at our disposal; they will

consequently know what they have to expect, and the fate that attends them in case of rebellion. We will

assure them, upon our honor, that M. Fouquet is a prisoner, and that all resistance can be only prejudicial to

them. We will tell them that when the first cannon is fired there will be no mercy to be expected from the

King. Then, I hope it at least, they will no longer resist. They will yield without fighting, and we shall have a

place given up to us in a friendly way which it might cost us much trouble to subdue."

The officer who had followed d'Artagnan to BelleIsle was preparing to speak, but d'Artagnan interrupted

him. "Yes, I know what you are going to tell me, Monsieur; I know that there is an order by the King to

prevent all secret communications with the defenders of BelleIsle, and that is exactly why I do not offer to

And d'Artagnan made an inclination of the head to his officers, which was intended to give a value to that

The officers looked at one another as if to read their opinions in their eyes, with the evident intention of

acting, after they should have agreed, according to the desire of d'Artagnan. And already the latter saw with

joy that the result of their consent would be the sending of a boat to Porthos and Aramis, when the King's

officer drew from his pocket a folded paper, which he placed in the hands of d'Artagnan. This paper bore

"Read, Monsieur," said the officer, with a courtesy that was not free from sadness.

"Prohibition to M. d'Artagnan to assemble any council whatever, or to deliberate in any way before

D'Artagnan repressed the movement of impatience that ran through his whole body, and with a gracious

THE blow was direct; it was severe, mortal. D'Artagnan, furious at having been anticipated by an idea of the

King, did not however yet despair; and reflecting upon the idea he had brought back from BelleIsle, he

derived from it a new means of safety for his friends. "Gentlemen," said he, suddenly, "since the King has

charged some other than myself with his secret orders, it must be because I no longer possess his confidence,

and I should be really unworthy of it if I had the courage to hold a command subject to so many injurious

suspicions. I will go then immediately and carry my resignation to the King. I give it before you all, enjoining

you all to fall back with me upon the coast of France in such a way as not to compromise the safety of the

forces his Majesty has confided to me. For this purpose, return all to your posts and command the return;

within an hour we shall have the floodtide. To your posts, gentlemen! I suppose," added he, on seeing that all

were prepared to obey him except the surveillant officer, "you have no orders to object, this time?"

And d'Artagnan almost triumphed while speaking these words. This plan was the safety of his friends. The

blockade once raised, they might embark immediately, and set sail for England or Spain without fear of being

molested. While they were making their escape, d'Artagnan would return to the King, would justify his return

by the indignation which the mistrust of Colbert had raised in him; he would be sent back with full powers,

and he would take BelleIsle, that is to say, the cage, after the birds had flown. But to this plan the officer

"From the moment M. d'Artagnan shall have manifested the desire of giving in his resignation, he shall no

longer be reckoned leader of the expedition, and every officer placed under his orders shall be held no longer

to obey him. Moreover, the said M. d'Artagnan, having lost that quality of leader of the army sent against

BelleIsle, shall set out immediately for France, in company with the officer who will have remitted the

Brave and careless as he was, d'Artagnan turned pale. Everything had been calculated with a depth which for

the first time in thirty years recalled to him the solid foresight and the inflexible logic of the great cardinal.

He leaned his head on his hand, thoughtful, scarcely breathing. "If I were to put this order in my pocket,"

thought he, "who would know it, or who would prevent my doing it? Before the King had had time to be

informed, I should have saved those poor fellows yonder. Let us exercise a little audacity! My head is not one

of those which the executioner strikes off for disobedience. We will disobey!" But at the moment he was

about to adopt this plan, he saw the officers around him reading similar orders which the infernal agent of the

thoughts of Colbert had just distributed to them. The case of disobedience had been foreseen as the others had

"Monsieur," said the officer, coming up to him, "I await your good pleasure to depart."

The officer immediately commanded a canoe to receive M. d'Artagnan and himself. At sight of this

d'Artagnan became almost mad with rage. "How," stammered he, "will you carry on the direction of the

"When you are gone, Monsieur," replied the commander of the fleet, "it is to me the direction of the whole is

"Then, Monsieur," rejoined Colbert's man, addressing the new leader, "it is for you that this last order that has

"Here are your instructions," replied the officer, placing the folded paper in his hands; and turning towards

d'Artagnan, "Come, Monsieur," said he, in an agitated voice (such despair did he behold in that man of iron),

"Immediately!" articulated d'Artagnan, feebly, subdued, crushed by implacable impossibility.

And he let himself slide down into the little boat, which started, favored by wind and tide, for the coast of

France. The King's Guards embarked with him. The musketeer still preserved the hope of reaching Nantes

quickly, and of pleading the cause of his friends eloquently enough to incline the King to mercy. The boat

flew like a swallow. D'Artagnan distinctly saw the land of France profiled in black against the white clouds

"Ah, Monsieur," said he, in a low voice, to the officer, to whom for an hour he had ceased speaking, "what

would I give to know the instructions for the new commander! They are all pacific, are they not? and"

He did not finish; the sound of a distant cannon rolled over the waters, then another, and two or three still

"The fire is opened upon BelleIsle," replied the officer. The canoe had just touched the soil of France.

WHEN d'Artagnan had quitted Aramis and Porthos, the latter returned to the principal fort to converse with

the greater liberty. Porthos, still thoughtful, was a constraint upon Aramis, whose mind had never felt itself

"Did you remark in the scene our friend had with the officer that certain orders restrained him with regard to

"Well, d'Artagnan is going to give in his resignation to the King; and during the confusion which will result

from his absence, we will get away, or rather, you will get away, Porthos, if there is a possibility of flight

Here, Porthos shook his head, and replied, "We will escape together, Aramis, or we will remain here

"You are a generous heart," said Aramis; "but your melancholy uneasiness afflicts me."

"I will tell you: I am making my will"; and while saying these words, the good Porthos looked sadly in the

"No, his name was Antoine. Well, he was of about my age when, setting out one day for the chase, he felt

"Nothing good, as you will see, for having set out, complaining still of the weakness of his legs, he met a

wild boar, which made head against him. He missed him with his arquebuse, and was ripped up by the beast,

"Oh, you will see. My father was as strong again as I am. He was a rough soldier under Henry III and Henry

IV; his name was not Antoine, but Gaspard, the same as M. de Coligny's. Always on horseback, he had

never known what lassitude was. One evening, as he rose from table, his legs failed him."

"He had supped heartily, perhaps," said Aramis; "and that was why he staggered."

"Bah! A friend of M. de Bassompierre? nonsense! No, no; he was astonished at feeling this lassitude, and

said to my mother, who laughed at him, 'Would not one believe I was going to meet with a wild boar, as the

"Well, braving this weakness, my father insisted upon going down into the garden, instead of going to bed.

His foot slipped on the first stair; the staircase was steep; my father fell against a stone angle, in which an

iron hinge was fixed. The hinge opened his temple, and he lay dead upon the spot."

Aramis raised his eyes to his friend. "These are two extraordinary circumstances," said he; "let us not infer

that there may succeed a third. It is not becoming in a man of your strength to be superstitious, my brave

Porthos. Besides, when were your legs seen to fail? Never have you been so firm, so superb; why, you could

"At this moment," said Porthos, "I feel myself pretty active; but at times I vacillate, I sink; and lately this

phenomenon, as you call it, has occurred four times. I will not say that this frightens me, but it annoys me.

Life is an agreeable thing. I have money, I have fine estates, I have horses that I love; I have also friends I

The admirable Porthos did not even take the trouble to conceal from Aramis the rank he gave him in his

friendship. Aramis pressed his hand. "We will still live many years," said he, "to preserve in the world

specimens of rare men. Trust yourself to me, my friend; we have no reply from d'Artagnan, that is a good

sign. He must have given orders to get the vessels together and clear the seas. On my part, I have just issued

directions that a boat should be rolled upon rollers to the mouth of the great cavern of Locmaria, which you

"Yes, and which terminates at the little creek by a trench which we discovered the day that splendid fox

"Precisely. In case of misfortune, a boat is to be concealed for us in that cavern; indeed, it must be there by

"We shall gain by it that nobody knows that grotto, or rather its issue, except ourselves and two or three

hunters of the island; we shall gain by it that if the island is occupied, the scouts, seeing no boat upon the

"You see, then, plainly, that everything conspires to give us quietude and hope. D'Artagnan will clear the sea

and give us liberty of action. No more royal fleet or descent to be dreaded. Vive Dieu! Porthos, we have still

half a century of good adventures before us; and if I once touch Spanish ground, I swear to you," added the

bishop, with a terrible energy, "that your brevet of duke is not remote as it now appears."

"We will live in hope," said Porthos, a little enlivened by the reviving warmth of his companion.

This cry, repeated by a hundred voices, brought to the chamber where the two friends were conversing

surprise to the one and uneasiness to the other. Aramis opened the window; he saw a crowd of people running

with torches. Women were seeking places of safety; the armed men were hastening to their posts.

"To arms!" repeated Porthos, formidably. And both rushed forth towards the pier, to place themselves within

the shelter of the batteries. Boats laden with soldiers were seen approaching; they took three directions for the

Five minutes after, the cannonade began. These were the shots that d'Artagnan had heard as he landed in

France. But the boats were too near the pier to allow the cannon to aim correctly. They landed, and the

"Nothing! nothing! only my legs. It is really incomprehensible; they will be better when we charge." In fact,

Porthos and Aramis did charge with such vigor, they so thoroughly animated their men, that the Royalists

reembarked precipitately without gaining anything but the wounds they carried away.

"Eh! but, Porthos," cried Aramis, "we must have a prisoner, quick! quick!" Porthos bent over the stair of the

pier, and seized by the nape of the neck one of the officers of the royal army who was waiting till all his

people should be in the boat. The arm of the giant lifted up his prey, which served him as a buckler, as he

"It was not with my legs I took him," said Porthos, sadly; "it was with my arms!"

THE Bretons of the isle were very proud of this victory; Aramis did not encourage them in the feeling. "What

will happen," said he to Porthos, when everybody had gone home, "will be that the anger of the King will be

roused by the account of the resistance; and that these brave people will be decimated or shot when the island

"From which it results, then," said Porthos, "that what we have done is of no use."

"For the moment it may be of some," replied the bishop, "for we have a prisoner from whom we shall learn

"Yes, let us interrogate the prisoner," said Porthos; "and the means of making him speak are very simple. We

are going to supper; we will invite him to join us; when he drinks he will talk."

This was done. The officer was at first rather uneasy, but became reassured on seeing what sort of men he

had to deal with. He gave, without having any fear of compromising himself, all the details imaginable of the

resignation and departure of d'Artagnan. He explained how after that departure the new leader of the

expedition had ordered a surprise upon BelleIsle. There his explanations stopped. Aramis and Porthos

exchanged a glance which evinced their despair. No more dependence to be placed upon the brave

imagination of d'Artagnan; consequently, no more resources in the event of defeat. Aramis, continuing his

interrogations, asked the prisoner what the leaders of the expedition contemplated doing with the leaders of

Porthos and Aramis looked at each other again, and the color mounted to their faces.

"I am too light for the gallows," replied Aramis; "people like me are not hung."

"I am sure," said the prisoner, gallantly, "that we could have procured you the sort of death you preferred."

Porthos bowed. "One more cup of wine to your health," said he, drinking himself.

From one subject to another the chat with the officer was prolonged. He was an intelligent gentleman, and

suffered himself to be led away by the charm of Aramis's wit and Porthos's cordial bonhomie. "Pardon me,"

said he, "if I address a question to you; but men who are in their sixth bottle have a clear right to forget

"That is true; I should say even the best of all soldiers, Messieurs, if I did not fear to offend the memory of

"Oh!" cried Porthos, in his turn, "Biscarrat! Do you remember that name, Aramis?"

"Pardieu! that won't take me long," said Porthos. "Biscarrat called Cardinal one of the four who interrupted

"That's true! very true!" exclaimed both the friends together. "Ma foi! M. Biscarrat, we are delighted to make

Biscarrat pressed the hands held out to him by the two former musketeers. Aramis looked at Porthos as much

as to say, "Here is a man who will help us," and without delay, "Confess, Monsieur," said he, "that it is good

"Confess, likewise, that it is a sad circumstance in which you find yourself, falling in with men destined to

be shot or hung, and learning that these men are old acquaintances, old hereditary acquaintances."

"Oh! you are not reserved for such a frightful fate as that, Messieurs and friends!" said the young man,

"I said so just now, when I did not know you; but now that I know you, I say you will avoid this dismal fate,

"How, if we like?" cried Aramis, whose eyes beamed with intelligence as he looked alternately at the

"Provided," continued Porthos, looking in his turn with noble intrepidity at M. Biscarrat and the bishop,

"Nothing at all will be required of you, gentlemen," replied the officer; "what should they ask of you? If they

find you they will kill you, that is a settled thing; try, then, gentlemen, to prevent their finding you."

"I don't think I am mistaken," said Porthos, with dignity; "but it appears evident to me that if they want to

"In that you are perfectly right, my worthy friend," replied Aramis, constantly consulting with his looks the

countenance of Biscarrat, who was silent and constrained. "You wish, M. de Biscarrat, to say something to

"Ah, gentlemen and friends! it is because in speaking I betray my duty. But, hark! I hear a voice which

On hearing at a distance among the rocks these sinister reports of a combat which they thought had ceased,

"The attack made by you was nothing but a feint, is not that true, Monsieur? And while your companions

allowed themselves to be repulsed, you were certain of effecting a landing on the other side of the island."

"Lost! that is possible," replied the Seigneur de Pierrefonds; "but we are not taken or hung." And so saying,

he rose from the table, went straight to the wall, and coolly took down his sword and pistols, which he

examined with the care of an old soldier who is preparing for battle, and who feels that his life in a great

At the report of the cannon, at the news of the surprise which might deliver up the isle to the royal troops, the

terrified crowd rushed precipitately to the fort to demand assistance and advice from their leaders. Aramis,

pale and downcast, between two torches, showed himself at the window which looked into the principal court

full of soldiers waiting for orders and bewildered inhabitants imploring succor.

"My friends," said d'Herblay, in a grave and sonorous voice, "M. Fouquet, your protector, your friend, your

father, has been arrested by an order of the King and thrown into the Bastille." A long cry of fury and menace

came floating up to the window at which the bishop stood, and enveloped him in a vibrating fluid.

"Avenge M. Fouquet!" cried the most excited of his hearers, "and death to the Royalists!"

"No, my friends," replied Aramis, solemnly, "no, my friends; no resistance. The King is master in his

kingdom. The King is the mandatory of God. The King and God have struck M. Fouquet. Humble yourselves

before the hand of God. Love God and the King, who have struck M. Fouquet. But do not avenge your

seigneur; do not think of avenging him. You would sacrifice yourselves in vain, you, your wives and

children, your property, and your liberty. Lay down your arms, my friends; lay down your arms, since the

King commands you so to do, and retire peaceably to your dwellings. It is I who ask you to do so; it is I who

beg you to do so; it is I who now, in the hour of need, command you to do so in the name of M. Fouquet."

The crowd collected under the window uttered a prolonged growl of anger and terror. "The soldiers of Louis

XIV have entered the island," continued Aramis. "From this time it would no longer be a combat between

them and you, it would be a massacre. Go, then; go and forget. This time I command you in the name of the

"Monsieur," said Biscarrat to the bishop, "you may save all these inhabitants, but you will neither save

"M. de Biscarrat," said the Bishop of Vannes, with a singular accent of nobleness and courtesy, "M. de

"That would render us a service, for when announcing to the King's lieutenant the submission of the

islanders, you will perhaps obtain some grace for us on informing him of the manner in which that

"Grace!" replied Porthos, with flashing eyes, "what is the meaning of that word?"

Aramis touched the elbow of his friend roughly, as he had been accustomed to do in the days of their youth,

when he wanted to warn Porthos that he had committed, or was about to commit, a blunder. Porthos

"I will go, Messieurs," replied Biscarrat, a little surprised likewise at the word "grace" pronounced by the

haughty musketeer, whose heroic exploits he had just been reciting with so much enthusiasm.

"Go, then, M. Biscarrat," said Aramis, bowing to him, "and at parting receive the expression of our entire

"But you, Messieurs, you whom I have the honor to call my friends, since you have been willing to accept

that title, what will become of you in the mean time?" replied the officer, very much agitated at taking leave

"I am Bishop of Vannes, M. de Biscarrat; and they no more shoot a bishop than they hang a gentleman."

"Ah, yes, Monsieur, yes, Monseigneur," replied Biscarrat; "it is true. You are right; there is still that chance

for you. Then I will depart, I will repair to the commander of the expedition, the King's lieutenant. Adieu,

The worthy officer, then jumping upon a horse given him by Aramis, departed in the direction of the sound of

the cannon, which, by bringing the crowd into the fort, had interrupted the conversation of the two friends

with their prisoner. Aramis watched his departure, and when left alone with Porthos, "Well, do you

"Yes; but the grotto of Locmaria, is it necessary that all the world should know it?"

"Ah! that is true, that is true; I comprehend. We are going to escape by the cavern."

"If you please," replied Aramis, joyously. "Forward, my friend Porthos; our boat awaits us, and the King has

THE cavern of Locmaria was sufficiently distant from the pier to render it necessary for our friends to

husband their strength to arrive there. Besides, the night was advancing; midnight had struck at the fort.

Porthos and Aramis were loaded with money and arms. They walked, then, across the heath which is between

the pier and the cavern, listening to every noise, and endeavoring to avoid ambushes. From time to time, on

the road, which they had carefully left on their left hand, passed fugitives coming from the interior at the

news of the landing of the royal troops. Aramis and Porthos, concealed behind some projecting mass of rock,

collected the words which escaped from the poor people, who fled trembling, carrying with them their most

valuable effects, and tried, while listening to their complaints, to draw something from them for their own

interest. At length, after a rapid course, frequently interrupted by cautious delays, they reached the deep

grotto into which the foreseeing Bishop of Vannes had taken care to have rolled upon cylinders a good boat

"My good friend," said Porthos, after having respired vigorously, "we are arrived, it seems. But I thought you

spoke of three men, three servants who were to accompany us. I don't see them; where are they?"

"Why should you see them, dear Porthos?" replied Aramis. "They are certainly waiting for us in the cavern,

and, no doubt, are resting for a moment after having accomplished their rough and difficult task." He stopped

Porthos, who was preparing to enter the cavern. "Will you allow me, my friend," said he to the giant, "to pass

in first? I know the signal I have given to these men, who, not hearing it, would be very likely to fire upon

"Go on, then, Aramis; go on, go first. You are all wisdom and prudence; go on. Ah! there is that fatigue of

Aramis left Porthos sitting at the entrance of the grotto, and bowing his head, he penetrated into the interior of

the cavern, imitating the cry of the owl. A little plaintive cooing, a scarcely distinct cry, replied from the

depths of the cave. Aramis pursued his way cautiously, and soon was stopped by the same kind of cry as he

"Go to the entrance of the grotto, my good Yves, and you will there find the Seigneur de Pierrefonds, who is

resting after the fatigues of our journey; and if he should happen not to be able to walk, lift him up, and bring

The three men obeyed; but the recommendation Aramis had given to his servants was useless. Porthos,

refreshed, had already himself begun the descent, and his heavy step resounded among the cavities formed

and supported by columns of silex and granite. As soon as the Seigneur de Bracieux had rejoined the bishop,

the Bretons lighted a lantern with which they were furnished, and Porthos assured his friend that he felt as

"Let us visit the canoe," said Aramis, "and see in the first place what it will hold."

"Do not go too near with the light," said the skipper Yves; "for, as you desired me, Monseigneur, I have

placed under the bench of the poop, in the coffer you know of, the barrel of powder, and the musketcharges

"Very well," said Aramis; and taking the lantern himself, he examined minutely all parts of the canoe with

the precautions of a man who is neither timid nor ignorant in the face of danger. The canoe was long, light,

drawing little water, thin of keel, in short, one of those which have always been so well constructed at

BelleIsle, a little high in its sides, solid upon the water, very manageable, furnished with planks which in

uncertain weather form a sort of bridge over which the waves glide, and which protect the rowers. In two

wellclosed coffers placed beneath the benches of the prow and the poop, Aramis found bread, biscuit, dried

fruits, a quarter of bacon, a good provision of water in leathern bottles, the whole forming rations sufficient

for people who did not mean to quit the coast, and would be able to revictual, if necessity demanded. The

arms, eight muskets and as many horsepistols, were in good condition, and all loaded. There were additional

oars, in case of accident, and that little sail called trinquette, which assists the speed of the canoe at the same

time the boatmen row, and is so useful when the breeze is slack. When Aramis had seen all these things, and

appeared satisfied with the result of his inspection, "Let us consider, Porthos," said he, "whether to endeavor

to get the boat out by the unknown extremity of the grotto, following the descent and the shade of the cavern,

or whether it be better to make it slide upon the rollers through the bushes in the open air, levelling the road

of the little beach, which is but twenty feet high, and gives at its foot, in the tide, three or four fathoms of

"It must be as you please, Monseigneur," replied the skipper Yves, respectfully; "but I don't believe that by

the slope of the cavern, and in the dark in which we shall be obliged to manoeuvre our boat, the road will be

so convenient as in the open air. I know the beach well, and can certify that it is as smooth as a grassplot in

a garden; the interior of the grotto, on the contrary, is rough, without again reckoning, Monseigneur, that at

the extremity we shall come to the trench which leads into the sea and which perhaps the canoe will not

"I have made my calculations," said the bishop, "and I am certain it would pass."

"So be it; I wish it may, Monseigneur," the skipper insisted. "But your Greatness knows very well that to

make it reach the extremity of the trench, there is an enormous stone to be lifted, that under which the fox

"Oh! I know that Monseigneur has the strength of ten men," replied Yves; "but that is giving Monseigneur a

"The more so, Monseigneur," continued the fisherman, "that we should not be able to embark before day, it

would require so much labor; and that as soon as daylight appears, a good vedette placed outside the grotto

would be necessary, indispensable even, to watch the manoeuvres of the lighters or the cruisers that are upon

And the three robust Bretons went to the boat, and were beginning to place their rollers underneath it to put it

in motion, when the distant barking of dogs was heard, proceeding from the interior of the island.

Aramis darted out of the grotto, followed by Porthos. Dawn just tinted with purple and white the waves and

the plain; through the dim light the young melancholy firs waved their tender branches over the pebbles, and

long flights of crows were skimming with their black wings over the thin fields of buckwheat. In a quarter of

an hour it would be clear daylight; the awakened birds joyously announced it to all nature. The barkings

which had been heard, which had stopped the three fishermen engaged in moving the boat, and had brought

Aramis and Porthos out of the cavern, were prolonged in a deep gorge within about a league of the grotto.

"And this way, particularly," continued Porthos, "this way, where they may expect the army of the Royalists."

"The noise comes nearer. Yes, you are right, Porthos, the dogs are on a scent. But, Yves!" cried Aramis,

Yves ran towards him, letting fall the cylinder which he was about to place under the boat when the bishop's

"Eh, Monseigneur, I cannot understand it," replied the Breton. "It is not at such a moment that the Seigneur

"In common prudence," said Aramis, "let us go back into the grotto; the voices evidently draw nearer, we

They reentered, but had scarcely proceeded a hundred steps in the darkness when a noise like the hoarse

sigh of a creature in distress resounded through the cavern, and breathless, running, terrified, a fox passed like

a flash of lightning before the fugitives, leaped over the boat and disappeared, leaving behind it its sour scent,

"Eh, my friend, what do you mean by that, and why do you name the fox? It is not the fox alone, pardieu! But

don't you know, Porthos, that after the fox come hounds, and after the hounds men?"

Porthos hung his head. As if to confirm the words of Aramis they heard the yelping pack coming with

frightful swiftness upon the trail of the animal. Six foxhounds burst out at once upon the little heath, with a

"There are the dogs plain enough!" said Aramis, posted on the lookout behind a chink between two rocks;

"If it is the Seigneur de Locmaria's," replied the skipper, "he will leave the dogs to hunt the grotto, for he

knows them, and will not enter in himself, being quite sure that the fox will come out at the other side; it is

"It is not the Seigneur de Locmaria who is hunting," replied Aramis, turning pale in spite of himself.

Porthos applied his eye to the slit, and saw at the summit of a hillock a dozen horsemen urging on their horses

"The King's Guards, do you say, Monseigneur?" cried the Bretons, becoming pale in their turn.

The hounds at the same moment rushed into the grotto like an avalanche, and the depths of the cavern were

"Ah, the devil!" said Aramis, resuming all his coolness at the sight of this certain, inevitable danger. "I know

well we are lost, but we have at least one chance left. If the guards who follow their hounds happen to

discover there is an issue to the grotto, there is no more help for us, for on entering they must see both us and

"You understand," added Aramis, with the rapid precision of command; "there are six dogs which will be

forced to stop at the great stone under which the fox has glided, but at the too narrow opening of which they

The Bretons sprang forward, knife in hand. In a few minutes there was a lamentable concert of growls and

"It will last about ten minutes," said Aramis. "To work!" And with a resolute air he took up a musket, and

placed his huntingknife between his teeth. "Yves, Goennec, and his son," continued he, "will pass the

muskets to us. You, Porthos, will fire when they are close. We shall have brought down eight before the

others are aware of anything, that is certain; then we all there are five of us will despatch the other eight,

Aramis reflected a moment. "Biscarrat first of all," replied he, coolly; "he knows us."

IN SPITE of the sort of divination which was the remarkable side of the character of Aramis, the event,

subject to the chances of things over which uncertainty presides, did not fall out exactly as the Bishop of

Vannes had foreseen. Biscarrat, better mounted than his companions, arrived first at the opening of the grotto,

and comprehended that the fox and the dogs were all engulfed in it. But, struck by that superstitious terror

which every dark and subterraneous way naturally impresses upon the mind of man, he stopped at the outside

"Well?" asked the young men, coming up out of breath, and unable to understand the meaning of his inaction.

"Well, I cannot hear the dogs; they and the fox must be all engulfed in this cavern."

"They were too close up," said one of the guards, "to have lost scent all at once; besides, we should hear them

"Well, but," said a fourth, "let us go into this grotto. Is it forbidden that we should enter it?"

"No," replied Biscarrat; "only, as it looks as dark as a wolf's mouth, we might break our necks in it."

"What the devil can have become of them?" asked the young men, in chorus; and every master called his dog

by his name, whistled to him in his favorite note, without a single reply to either the call or the whistle.

"It is perhaps an enchanted grotto," said Biscarrat. "Let us see"; and jumping from his horse, he made a step

"Stop! stop! I will accompany you," said one of the guards, on seeing Biscarrat preparing to disappear in the

"No," replied Biscarrat, "there must be something extraordinary in the place; don't let us risk ourselves all at

once. If in ten minutes you do not hear of me, you can come in, but then all at once."

"Be it so," said the young men, who besides did not see that Biscarrat ran much risk in the enterprise, "we

will wait for you"; and without dismounting from their horses, they formed a circle round the grotto.

Biscarrat entered then alone, and advanced through the darkness till he came in contact with the muzzle of

Porthos's musket. The resistance against his breast astonished him; he raised his hand and laid hold of the icy

barrel. At the same instant Yves lifted a knife against the young man, which was about to fall upon him with

all the force of a Breton's arm, when the iron wrist of Porthos stopped it halfway. Then, like lowmuttering

thunder, his voice growled in the darkness, "I will not have him killed!" Biscarrat found himself between a

protection and a threat, the one almost as terrible as the other. However brave the young man might be, he

could not prevent a cry escaping him, which Aramis immediately suppressed by placing a handkerchief over

his mouth. "M. de Biscarrat," said he, in a low voice, "we mean you no harm, and you must know that if you

have recognized us; but at the first word, the first sigh, or the first breath, we shall be forced to kill you as we

"Yes, I recognize you, gentlemen," said the officer, in a low voice; "but why are you here; what are you doing

"To kill us?" Biscarrat made no reply; it would have cost him too much to speak of the cord to gentlemen.

Aramis understood the silence of his prisoner. "M. Biscarrat," said he, "you would be already dead if we had

not had regard for your youth and our ancient association with your father; but you may yet escape from the

"I will not only swear that I will not speak of it," said Biscarrat, "but I still further swear that I will do

everything in the world to prevent my companions from setting foot in the grotto."

"Biscarrat! Biscarrat!" cried several voices from the outside, coming like a whirlwind into the cave.

"Now go; we depend upon your loyalty"; and he left his hold of the young man, who hastily returned towards

"Biscarrat! Biscarrat!" cried the voices, still nearer; and the shadows of several human forms projected into

Biscarrat rushed to meet his friends in order to stop them, and met them just as they were venturing into the

cave. Aramis and Porthos listened with the intense attention of men whose lives depend upon a breath of air.

"Oh, oh!" exclaimed one of the guards, as he came to the light, "how pale you are!"

"You have not a drop of blood in your veins, my poor friend," said one of them, laughing.

"Messieurs, it is serious," said another. "He is going to faint; does any one of you happen to have any salts?"

All these interpellations, all these jokes, crossed one another round Biscarrat as the balls cross one another in

the fire of a melee. He recovered himself amid a deluge of interrogations. "What do you suppose I have

seen?" asked he. "I was too hot when I entered the grotto, and I have been struck with the cold; that is all."

"But the dogs, the dogs; have you seen them again; have you heard anything of them; do you know anything

"Messieurs," said one of the young men, "there is in that which is going on, in the paleness and silence of our

friend, a mystery which Biscarrat will not or cannot reveal. Only and that is a certainty Biscarrat has seen

something in the grotto. Well, for my part, I am very curious to see what it is, even if it were the devil. To the

"To the grotto!" repeated all the voices. And the echo of the cavern carried like a menace to Porthos and

Aramis, "To the grotto! to the grotto!" Biscarrat threw himself before his companions. "Messieurs!

"Why, what is there so terrific in the cavern?" asked several at once. "Come, speak, Biscarrat."

"Decidedly, it is the devil he has seen," repeated he who had before advanced that hypothesis.

"Well," said another, "if he has seen him, he need not be selfish; he may as well let us have a look at him in

Then one of the officers who, of a riper age than the others, had till this time remained behind and had said

nothing, advanced. "Messieurs," said he, with a calmness which contrasted with the animation of the young

men, "there is down there some person or some thing which is not the devil but which, whatever it may be,

has had sufficient power to silence our dogs. We must know who this some one is, or what this something is."

Biscarrat made a last effort to stop his friends; but it was useless. In vain he threw himself before the most

rash; in vain he clung to the rocks to bar the passage; the crowd of young men rushed into the cave in the

steps of the officer who had spoken last, but who had sprung in first, sword in hand, to face the unknown

danger. Biscarrat, repulsed by his friends, not able to accompany them without passing in the eyes of Porthos

and Aramis for a traitor and a perjurer, with attentive ear and still supplicating hands leaned against the rough

side of a rock which he thought must be exposed to the fire of the musketeers. As to the guards, they

penetrated farther and farther, with cries that grew weaker as they advanced. All at once, a discharge of

musketry, growling like thunder, exploded beneath the vault. Two or three balls were flattened against the

rock where Biscarrat was leaning. At the same instant cries, howlings, and imprecations burst forth, and the

little troop of gentlemen reappeared some pale, some bleeding all enveloped in a cloud of smoke, which

the outward air seemed to draw from the depths of the cavern. "Biscarrat! Biscarrat!" cried the fugitives, "you

knew there was an ambuscade in that cavern, and you have not warned us! Biscarrat, you have caused four of

"You are the cause of my being wounded to death," said one of the young men, gathering his blood in his

hand, and casting it into the face of Biscarrat. "My blood be upon your head!" And he rolled in agony at the

Biscarrat remained silent. "Tell us, or die!" cried the wounded man, raising himself upon one knee, and lifting

towards his companion an arm bearing a useless sword. Biscarrat rushed towards him, opening his breast for

the blow, but the wounded man fell back not to rise again, uttering a groan which was his last. Biscarrat, with

hair on end, haggard eyes, and bewildered head, advanced towards the interior of the cavern, saying, "You

are right. Death to me, who have allowed my companions to be assassinated! I am a base wretch!" And

throwing away his sword, for he wished to die without defending himself, he rushed head foremost into the

cavern. The eleven who remained out of sixteen imitated his example; but they did not go farther than before.

A second discharge laid five upon the icy sand; and as it was impossible to see whence this murderous

thunder issued, the others fell back with a terror than can be better imagined than described. But, far from

flying, as the others had done, Biscarrat remained, safe and sound, seated on a fragment of rock, and waited.

"Where is Biscarrat?" The young men looked around them and saw that Biscarrat did not answer.

"Oh, no," replied another; "I saw him through the smoke, sitting quietly on a rock. He is in the cavern; he is

"That is true. Well; let us call him, and learn from him with whom we have to deal." And all voices shouted,

"Good!" said the officer who had shown so much coolness in the affair. "We have no longer any need of him;

In fact, a company of the Guards, left in the rear by their officers, whom the ardor of the chase had carried

away, from seventyfive to eighty men, arrived in good order, led by their captain and the first lieutenant.

The five officers hastened to meet their soldiers; and in a language the eloquence of which may be easily

imagined, they related the adventure and asked for aid. The captain interrupted them. "Where are your

"No, for here he is; look." In fact, Biscarrat appeared at the opening of the grotto.

"Monsieur," said the captain addressing Biscarrat, "I am assured that you know who the men are in that grotto

who make such a desperate defence. In the King's name I command you to declare what you know."

"Captain," said Biscarrat, "you have no need to command me. My word has been restored to me this very

"To tell you that they are determined to defend themselves to the death, unless you grant them good terms."

"Better than that. Do you remember the history of the bastion St. Gervais, Captain?"

"At that period they were called Porthos and Aramis. Now they are styled M. d'Herblay and M. du Vallon."

A murmur ran through the ranks of the soldiers on hearing the two words, "Porthos and Aramis." "The

musketeers! the musketeers!" repeated they. And among all these brave men, the idea that they were going to

have a struggle against two of the oldest glories of the French army made a shiver, half enthusiasm, half

terror, run through them. In fact, those four names d'Artagnan, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis were venerated

among all who wore a sword, as in antiquity the names of Hercules, Theseus, Castor, and Pollux were

"Two men! and they have killed ten in two discharges! That is impossible, M. Biscarrat!"

"Eh, Captain," replied the latter, "I do not say that they have not with them two or three men, as the

musketeers of the bastion St. Gervais had two or three lackeys. But believe me, Captain, I have seen these

men, I have been taken prisoner by them, I know them; they alone would suffice to destroy an army."

"That we shall see," said the captain, and in a moment too. Gentlemen, attention!"

At this reply, no one stirred, and all prepared to obey. Biscarrat alone risked a last attempt. "Monsieur," said

he, in a low voice, "believe me; let us pass on our way. Those two men, those two lions you are going to

attack, will defend themselves to the death. They have already killed ten of our men; they will kill double the

number, and end by killing themselves rather than surrender. What shall we gain by fighting them?"

"We shall gain the consciousness, Monsieur, of not having made eighty of the King's Guards retire before

two rebels. If I listened to your advice, Monsieur, I should be a dishonored man; and by dishonoring myself I

And he marched first as far as the opening of the grotto. There he halted. The object of this halt was to give to

Biscarrat and his companions time to describe to him the interior of the grotto. Then, when he believed he

had a sufficient acquaintance with the place, he divided his company into three bodies, which were to enter

successively, keeping up a sustained fire in all directions. No doubt in this attack they would lose five more

men, perhaps ten; but certainly they must end by taking the rebels, since there was no issue; and at any rate

"Captain," said Biscarrat, "I beg to be allowed to march at the head of the first platoon."

"So be it," replied the captain; "you have all the honor of it. That is a present I make you."

"I shall go as I am, Captain," said Biscarrat, "for I do not go to kill, I go to be killed." And placing himself at

the head of the first platoon with his head uncovered and his arms crossed, "March, gentlemen!" said he.

IT IS time to pass into the other camp, and to describe at once the combatants and the field of battle. Aramis

and Porthos had gone to the grotto of Locmaria with the expectation of finding in that place their canoe,

ready moored, as well as the three Bretons, their assistants; and they at first hoped to make the boat pass

through the little issue of the cavern, concealing in that fashion both their labors and their flight. The arrival

of the fox and the dogs had obliged them to remain concealed. The grotto extended the space of about a

hundred toises to a little slope dominating a creek. Formerly a temple of the Celtic divinities when BelleIsle

was still called Calonese, this grotto had seen more than one human sacrifice accomplished in its mysterious

depths. The first entrance to the cavern was by a moderate descent, above which heaped up rocks formed a

low arcade; the interior, very unequal as to the ground, dangerous from the rocky inequalities of the vault,

was subdivided into several compartments which commanded one another and were joined by means of

several rough broken steps, fixed right and left in enormous natural pillars. At the third compartment the vault

was so low, the passage so narrow, that the boat would scarcely have passed without touching the two sides;

nevertheless, in a moment of despair, wood softens and stone becomes compliant under the breath of human

will. Such was the thought of Aramis, when, after having fought the fight, he decided upon flight, a flight

certainly dangerous, since all the assailants were not dead, and since admitting the possibility of putting the

boat to sea, they would have to fly in open day, before the eyes of the conquered, who, on discovering how

When the two discharges had killed ten men, Aramis, habituated to the windings of the cavern, went to

reconnoitre them one by one, and counted them, for the smoke prevented seeing on beyond; and he

immediately commanded that the canoe should be rolled as far as the great stone, the closure of the liberating

issue. Porthos collected all his strength, and took the canoe in his arms and lifted it, while the Bretons made it

run rapidly along the rollers. They had descended into the third compartment; they had arrived at the stone

which walled up the outlet. Porthos seized this gigantic stone at its base, applied his robust shoulder to it, and

gave a heave which made this wall crack. A cloud of dust fell from the vault with the ashes of ten thousand

generations of seabirds, whose nests stuck like cement to the rock. At the third shock the stone gave way; it

oscillated for a minute. Porthos, placing his back against the neighboring rock, made an arch with his foot

which drove the block out of the calcareous masses which served for hinges and cramps. The stone fell; and

daylight was visible, brilliant, radiant, which rushed into the cavern by the opening, and the blue sea appeared

to the delighted Bretons. They then began to lift the boat over the barricade. Twenty more toises, and it might

glide into the ocean. It was during this time that the company arrived, was drawn up by the captain, and

Aramis watched over everything, to favor the labors of his friends. He saw the reinforcements; he counted the

men; he convinced himself at a single glance of the insurmountable peril to which a fresh combat would

expose them. To escape by sea at the moment the cavern was about to be invaded, was impossible. In fact,

the daylight which had just been admitted to the last two compartments had exposed to the soldiers the boat

rolling towards the sea, and the two rebels within musketshot; and one of their discharges would riddle the

boat if it did not kill the five navigators. Besides, supposing everything, suppose the boat should escape with

the men on board of it, how could the alarm be suppressed, how could notice to the royal lighters be

prevented? What could hinder the poor canoe, followed by sea and watched from the shore, from succumbing

before the end of the day? Aramis, digging his hands into his gray hair with rage, invoked the assistance of

God and the assistance of the devil. Calling to Porthos, who was working alone more than all the rollers,

whether of flesh or of wood, "My friend," said he, "our adversaries have just received a reinforcement."

"Yes," said Porthos, "for it is difficult to suppose that out of two one should not be killed; and certainly, if

one of us were killed, the other would get himself killed also." Porthos spoke these words with that natural

Aramis felt it like a spur to his heart. "We shall neither of us be killed if you do what I tell you, friend

"Without reckoning," added Aramis, "that the detonations might occasion fallings in of the cavern."

"We must determine upon something quickly. Our Bretons are going to continue to roll the canoe towards the

"But only two, my dear Aramis, we shall never fire three shots together," said Porthos, innocently; "the

"I have found one," said the giant, suddenly; "I will place myself in ambuscade behind the pillar with this

iron bar; and invisible, unattackable, if they come in floods, I can let my bar fall upon their skulls thirty times

"Excellent, dear friend, perfect! I approve it greatly; only you will frighten them, and half of them will remain

outside to take us by famine. What we want, my good friend, is the entire destruction of the troop; a single

"If so, and your idea be a good one, and your idea is most likely to be good, I am satisfied."

Porthos took refuge in the second compartment, which was absolutely black with darkness. Aramis glided

into the third; the giant held in his hand an iron bar of about fifty pounds weight. Porthos handled this lever,

which had been used in rolling the boat, with marvellous facility. During this time, the Bretons had pushed

the boat to the beach. In the enlightened compartment, Aramis, stooping and concealed, was busied in some

mysterious manoeuvre. A command was given in a loud voice. It was the last order of the captain.

Twentyfive men jumped from the upper rocks into the first compartment of the grotto, and having taken

their ground, began to fire. The echoes growled; the hissing of the balls cut the air; an opaque smoke filled

"To the left! to the left!" cried Biscarrat, who in his first assault had seen the passage to the second chamber,

and who animated by the smell of powder wished to guide his soldiers in that direction. The troop

accordingly precipitated themselves to the left, the passage gradually growing narrower. Biscarrat, with his

hands stretched forward, devoted to death, marched in advance of the muskets. "Come on! come on!"

Porthos breathed a sigh; but he obeyed. The iron bar fell full and direct upon the head of Biscarrat, who was

dead before he had ended his cry. Then the formidable lever rose ten times in ten seconds, and made ten

corpses. The soldiers could see nothing; they heard sighs and groans; they stumbled over dead bodies, but as

they had no conception of the cause of all this, they came forward jostling one another. The implacable bar,

still falling, annihilated the first platoon without a single sound having warned the second, which was quietly

advancing. But this second platoon, commanded by the captain, had broken a thin fir growing on the shore,

On arriving at the compartment where Porthos, like the exterminating angel, had destroyed all he touched, the

first rank drew back in terror. No firing had replied to that of the guards, and yet their way was stopped by a

heap of dead bodies, they literally walked in blood. Porthos was still behind his pillar. The captain, on

lighting up with the trembling flame of the fir this frightful carnage, of which he in vain sought the cause,

drew back towards the pillar behind which Porthos was concealed. Then a gigantic hand issued from the

shade and fastened on the throat of the captain, who uttered a stifled rattle; his outstretched arms beating the

air, the torch fell and was extinguished in blood. A second after, the corpse of the captain fell close to the

extinguished torch and added another body to the heap of dead which blocked up the passage.

All this was effected as mysteriously as if by magic. On hearing the rattling in the throat of the captain, the

soldiers who accompanied him had turned round; they had caught a glimpse of his extended arms, his eyes

starting from their sockets, and then the torch fell and they were left in darkness. By an unreflective,

instinctive, mechanical impulse the lieutenant cried, "Fire!" Immediately a volley of musketry flamed,

thundered, roared in the cavern, bringing down enormous fragments from the vaults. The cavern was lighted

for an instant by this discharge, and then immediately returned to a darkness rendered still thicker by the

smoke. To this succeeded a profound silence, broken only by the steps of the third brigade, now entering the

AT THE moment when Porthos, more accustomed to the darkness than all these men coming from open

daylight, was looking round him to see if in this night Aramis were not making him some signal, he felt his

And amid the noise of the third brigade, which continued to advance, amid the imprecations of the guards left

alive, of the dying breathing their last sigh, Aramis and Porthos glided imperceptibly along the granite walls

of the cavern. Aramis led Porthos into the last compartment but one, and showed him in a hollow of the rocky

wall a barrel of powder weighing from seventy to eighty pounds, to which he had just attached a match. "My

friend," said he to Porthos, "you will take this barrel, the match of which I am going to set fire to, and throw it

"Stop," said Aramis, "till they are all massed together, and then, my Jupiter, hurl your thunderbolt among

"On my part," continued Aramis, "I will join our Bretons, help them to get the canoe to the sea, and will wait

"Parbleu!" said Porthos, with laughter that he did not even attempt to restrain; "when a thing is explained to

Aramis gave the burning match to Porthos, who held out his arm to him to press, his hands being engaged.

Aramis pressed the arm of Porthos with both his hands, and fell back to the outlet of the cavern, where the

Porthos, left alone, applied the spark bravely to the match. The spark a feeble spark, first principle of a

conflagration shone in the darkness like a firefly, then was deadened against the match which it inflamed.

Porthos enlivened the flame with his breath. The smoke was a little dispersed, and by the light of the

sparkling match objects might for two seconds be distinguished. It was a short but a splendid spectacle, that

of this giant, pale, bloody, his countenance lighted by the fire of the match burning in surrounding darkness!

The soldiers saw him; they saw the barrel he held in his hand; they at once understood what was going to

happen. Then these men, already filled with fright at the sight of what had been accomplished, filled with

terror at thinking of what was going to be accomplished, uttered together one shriek of agony. Some

endeavored to fly, but they encountered the third brigade, which barred their passage; others mechanically

took aim and attempted to fire their discharged muskets; others fell upon their knees. Two or three officers

cried out to Porthos to promise him his liberty if he would spare their lives. The lieutenant of the third

brigade commanded his men to fire; but the guards had before them their terrified companions, who served as

We have said that the light produced by the spark and the match did not last more than two seconds; but

during these two seconds this is what it illumined: in the first place, the giant, enlarged in the darkness; then,

at ten paces from him, a heap of bleeding bodies, crushed, mutilated, in the midst of which was still visible

some last struggle of agony which lifted the mass as a last breath raises the sides of a shapeless monster

expiring in the night. Every breath of Porthos, while enlivening the match, sent towards this heap of bodies a

sulphurous hue mingled with streaks of purple. In addition to this principal group, scattered about the grotto

as the chance of death or the surprise of the blow had stretched them, some isolated bodies seemed to threaten

by their gaping wounds. Above the ground, soaked by pools of blood, rose, heavy and sparkling, the short,

thick pillars of the cavern, of which the strongly marked shades threw out the luminous particles. And all this

was seen by the tremulous light of a match attached to a barrel of powder, that is to say, a torch which,

As I have said, this spectacle did not last above two seconds. During this short space of time, an officer of the

third brigade got together eight men armed with muskets, and, through an opening, ordered them to fire upon

Porthos. But they who received the order to fire trembled so that three guards fell by the discharge, and the

five other balls went hissing to splinter the vault, plough the ground, or indent the sides of the cavern.

A burst of laughter replied to this volley; then the arm of the giant swung round; then was seen to pass

through the air, like a falling star, the train of fire. The barrel, hurled a distance of thirty feet, cleared the

barricade of the dead bodies and fell amid a group of shrieking soldiers, who threw themselves on their faces.

The officer had followed the brilliant train in the air; he endeavored to precipitate himself upon the barrel and

tear out the match before it reached the powder it contained. Useless devotion! The air had made the flame

attached to the conductor more active; the match, which at rest might have burned five minutes, was

Furious vortices, hissings of sulphur and nitre, devouring ravages of the fire, the terrible thunder of the

explosion, this is what the second which followed the two seconds we have described disclosed in that

cavern, equal in horrors to a cavern of demons. The rocks split like planks of deal under the axe. A jet of fire,

smoke, and debris sprang up from the middle of the grotto, enlarging as it mounted. The great walls of silex

tottered and fell upon the sand; and the sand itself an instrument of pain when launched from its hardened

bed riddled the face with its myriads of cutting atoms. Cries, howlings, imprecations, and lives, all were

The first three compartments became a gulf into which fell back again, according to its weight, every

vegetable, mineral, or human fragment. Then the lighter sand and ashes fell in their turns, stretching like a

gray windingsheet and smoking over these dismal remains. And now seek in this burning tomb, in this

subterranean volcano, seek for the King's Guards with their blue coats laced with silver. Seek for the

officers brilliant in gold; seek for the arms upon which they depended for their defence; seek among the

stones that have killed them, upon the ground that bore them. One single man has made of all this a chaos

more confused, more shapeless, more terrible than the chaos which existed an hour before God conceived the

idea of creating the world. There remained nothing of the three compartments, nothing by which God could

As to Porthos, after having hurled the barrel of powder amid his enemies, he had fled as Aramis had directed

him and had gained the last compartment, into which air, light, and sunshine penetrated through the opening.

And scarcely had he turned the angle which separated the third compartment from the fourth, when he

perceived at a hundred paces from him the boat dancing on the waves. There were his friends; there was

liberty; there was life after victory. Six more of his formidable strides and he would be out of the vault; out of

the vault, two or three vigorous springs and he would reach the canoe. Suddenly he felt his knees give way;

"Oh, oh!" murmured he, "there is my fatigue seizing me again! I can walk no farther! What is this?"

Aramis perceived him through the opening; unable to conceive what could induce him to stop thus, he cried,

"Oh!" replied the giant, making an effort which acted upon every muscle of his body, "oh! but I cannot!"

While saying these words he fell upon his knees, but with his robust hands he clung to the rocks, and raised

"Quick! quick!" repeated Aramis, bending forward towards the shore, as if to draw Porthos to him with his

"Here I am," stammered Porthos, collecting all his strength to make one step more.

"Make haste, Monseigneur!" shouted the Bretons to Porthos, who was floundering as in a dream.

But there was no longer time; the explosion resounded, the earth gaped, the smoke which rushed through the

large fissures obscured the sky; the sea flowed back as if driven by the blast of fire which darted from the

grotto as if from the jaws of a gigantic chimera; the reflux carried the boat out twenty toises; the rocks

cracked to their base, and separated like blocks under the operation of wedges; a portion of the vault was

carried up towards heaven, as if by rapid currents; the rosecolored and green fire of the sulphur, the black

lava of the argillaceous liquefactions clashed and combated for an instant beneath a majestic dome of smoke;

then at first oscillated, then declined, then fell successively the long angles of rock, which the violence of the

explosion had not been able to uproot from their bed of ages; they bowed to one another like grave and slow

old men, then prostrated themselves, and were embedded forever in their dusty tomb.

This frightful shock seemed to restore to Porthos the strength he had lost; he arose, himself a giant among

these giants. But at the moment he was flying between the double hedge of granite phantoms, these latter,

which were no longer supported by the corresponding links, began to roll with a crash around this Titan, who

looked as if precipitated from heaven amid the rocks which he had just been launching at it. Porthos felt the

earth beneath his feet shaken by this long rending. He extended his vast hands to the right and left to repulse

the falling rocks. A gigantic block was held back by each of his extended hands; he bent his head, and a third

granite mass sank between his two shoulders. For an instant the arms of Porthos had given way, but the

Hercules united all his forces, and the two walls of the prison in which he was buried fell back slowly and

gave him place. For an instant he appeared in this frame of granite like the ancient angel of chaos; but in

pushing back the lateral rocks, he lost his point of support for the monolith which weighed upon his strong

shoulders, and the monolith, lying upon him with all its weight, brought the giant down upon his knees. The

lateral rocks, for an instant pushed back, drew together again and added their weight to that of the other,

which would have been sufficient to crush ten men. The giant fell without crying for help; he fell while

answering Aramis with words of encouragement and hope, for, thanks to the powerful arch of his hands, for

an instant he might believe that, like Enceladus, he should shake off the triple load. But by degrees Aramis

saw the block sink; the hands contracted for an instant, the arms stiffened for a last effort, gave way, the

extended shoulders sank wounded and torn, and the rock continued to lower gradually.

"Porthos! Porthos!" cried Aramis, tearing his hair, "Porthos! where are you? Speak!"

"There, there!" murmured Porthos, with a voice growing evidently weaker; "patience! patience!" Scarcely

had he pronounced these words, when the impulse of the fall augmented the weight; the enormous rock sank

down, pressed by the two others which sank in from the sides, and, as it were, swallowed up Porthos in a

sepulchre of broken stones. On hearing the dying voice of his friend, Aramis had sprung to land. Two of the

Bretons followed him, each with a lever in his hand, one being sufficient to take care of the boat. The last

sighs of the valiant struggler guided them amid the ruins. Aramis, animated, active, and young as at twenty,

sprang towards the triple mass, and with his hands, delicate as those of a woman, raised by a miracle of vigor

a corner of the immense sepulchre of granite. Then he caught a glimpse, in the darkness of that grave, of the

still brilliant eye of his friend, to whom the momentary lifting of the mass restored a moment of respiration.

The two men came rushing up, grasped their iron levers, united their triple strength, not merely to raise it, but

to sustain it. All was useless. The three men slowly gave way with cries of grief, and the rough voice of

Porthos, seeing them exhaust themselves in a useless struggle, murmured in a bantering tone those last words

After which the eye darkened and closed, the face became pale, the hand whitened, and the Titan sank quite

down, breathing his last sigh. With him sank the rock, which even in his agony he had still held up. The three

men dropped the levers, which rolled upon the tumulary stone. Then, breathless, pale, his brow covered with

Nothing more! The giant slept the eternal sleep, in the sepulchre which God had made to his measure.

ARAMIS, silent, icy, trembling like a timid child, arose shivering from the stone. A Christian does not walk

upon tombs. But though capable of standing, he was not capable of walking. It might be said that something

of Porthos, dead, had just died within him. His Bretons surrounded him; Aramis yielded to their kind

exertions, and the three sailors, lifting him up, carried him into the canoe. Then, having laid him down upon

the bench near the tiller, they took to their oars, preferring to get off by rowing rather than to hoist a sail,

Of all that levelled surface of the ancient grotto of Locmaria, of all that flattened shore, one single little

hillock attracted their eyes. Aramis never removed his from it; and at a distance out in the sea, in proportion

as the shore receded, the menacing and proud mass of rock seemed to draw itself up, as formerly Porthos

used to do, and raise a smiling and invincible head towards heaven, like that of the honest and valiant friend,

the strongest of the four, and yet the first dead. Strange destiny of these men of brass! The most simple of

heart allied to the most crafty; strength of body guided by subtlety of mind; and in the decisive moment,

when strength alone could save mind and body, a stone, a rock, a vile and material weight, triumphed over

Worthy Porthos! born to help other men, always ready to sacrifice himself for the safety of the weak, as if

God had given him strength only for that purpose. In dying he thought he was only carrying out the

conditions of his compact with Aramis, a compact, however, which Aramis alone had drawn up, and which

Noble Porthos! of what good are the chateaux filled with sumptuous furniture, the forests abounding in game,

the lakes teeming with fish, the cellars gorged with wealth? Of what good are the lackeys in brilliant liveries,

and in the midst of them Mousqueton, proud of the power delegated by thee? Oh noble Porthos! careful

heaper up of treasures, was it worth while to labor to sweeten and gild life, to come upon a desert shore to the

cries of seabirds, and lay thyself with broken bones beneath a cold stone? Was it worth while, in short,

noble Porthos, to heap so much gold, and not have even the distich of a poor poet engraven upon thy

Valiant Porthos! He still, without doubt, sleeps, lost, forgotten, beneath the rock which the shepherds of the

heath take for the gigantic abode of a dolmen. And so many twining branches, so many mosses, caressed by

the bitter wind of the ocean, so many lichens have soldered the sepulchre to the earth, that the passerby will

never imagine that such a block of granite can ever have been supported by the shoulders of one man.

Aramis, still pale, still icy, his heart upon his lips, continued his fixed gaze even till, with the last ray of

daylight, the shore faded on the horizon. Not a word escaped his lips; not a sigh rose from his deep breast.

The superstitious Bretons looked at him trembling. The silence was not of a man, it was of a statue. In the

mean time, with the first gray lines that descended from the heavens, the canoe had hoisted its little sail,

which swelling with the kisses of the breeze, and carrying them rapidly from the coast, made brave way with

its head towards Spain across the terrible gulf of Gascony, so rife with tempests. But scarcely half an hour

after the sail had been hoisted, the rowers became inactive, reclined upon their benches, and making an

eyeshade with their hands, pointed out to one another a white spot which appeared on the horizon, as

motionless in appearance as is a gull rocked by the insensible respiration of the waves; But that which might

have appeared motionless to the ordinary eyes was moving at a quick rate to the experienced eye of the sailor;

that which appeared stationary on the ocean was cutting a rapid way through it. For some time, seeing the

profound torpor in which their master was plunged, the sailors did not dare to rouse him, and satisfied

themselves with exchanging their conjectures in low and anxious tones. Aramis, in fact, so vigilant, so

active Aramis, whose eye, like that of a lynx, watched without ceasing, and saw better by night than by

day, Aramis seemed to sleep in the despair of his soul. An hour passed thus during which daylight gradually

disappeared, but during which also the sail in view gained so swiftly on the boat that Goennec, one of the

Aramis made no reply; the ship still gained upon them. Then, of their own accord, two of the sailors, by the

direction of the skipper Yves, lowered the sail, in order that that single point which appeared above the

surface of the waters should cease to be a guide to the eye of the enemy who was pursuing them. On the part

of the ship in sight, on the contrary, two more small sails were run up at the extremities of the masts.

Unfortunately, it was the time of the finest and longest days of the year, and the moon, in all her brilliancy,

succeeded to that inauspicious day. The vessel which was pursuing the little boat before the wind had then

"Monseigneur! Monseigneur! we are lost!" said the skipper. "Look! they see us although we have lowered

"That is not to be wondered at," murmured one of the sailors, "since they say that, by the aid of the devil, the

people of the cities have made instruments with which they see as well at a distance as near, by night as well

Aramis took a telescope from the bottom of the boat, arranged it silently, and passing it to the sailor, "Here,"

"Don't be alarmed," said the bishop, "there is no sin in it; and if there is any sin, I will take it upon myself."

The sailor lifted the glass to his eye, and uttered a cry. He believed that the vessel, which appeared to be

distant about cannonshot, had suddenly and at a single bound cleared the distance. But on withdrawing the

instrument from his eye, he saw that, except the way which the vessel had been able to make during that short

"Well, Skipper, look for yourself," said the sailor. And he passed to him the glass.

"Monseigneur assures me that the devil has nothing to do with this?" asked the skipper.

The skipper lifted the glass to his eye. "Oh, Monseigneur," said he, "it is a miracle. They are there; it seems as

if I were going to touch them. Twentyfive men at least! Ah! I see the captain forward. He holds a glass like

this, and is looking at us. Ah! he turns round and gives an order; they are rolling a piece of cannon forward

And by a mechanical movement the skipper took the glass off, and the objects, sent back to the horizon,

appeared again in their true aspect. The vessel was still at the distance of nearly a league, but the manoeuvre

announced by the skipper was not less real. A light cloud of smoke appeared under the sails, more blue than

they, and spreading like a flower opening; then, at about a mile from the little canoe, they saw the ball take

the crown off two or three waves, dig a white furrow in the sea and disappear at the end of that furrow, as

inoffensive as the stone with which, at play, a boy "makes ducks and drakes." That was at once a menace and

"They will sink us!" said Goennec, give us absolution, Monseigneur!" And the sailors fell on their knees

"That is true!" said the sailors, ashamed of their weakness. "Give us your orders, Monseigneur; we are ready

"Yes; do you not see, as you just now said, that if we endeavor to fly, they will sink us?"

"But perhaps," the skipper ventured to say, "perhaps by the favor of the night we could escape them."

"Oh!" said Aramis, "they probably have some Greek fire to light their own course and ours likewise."

At the same moment, as if the little vessel wished to reply to the words of Aramis, a second cloud of smoke

mounted slowly to the heavens, and from the bosom of that cloud sparkled an arrow of flame, which

described its parabola like a rainbow, and fell into the sea, where it continued to burn, illuminating a space of

The Bretons looked at one another in terror. "You see plainly," said Aramis, "it will be better to wait for

The oars dropped from the hands of the sailors, and the boat ceasing to make way, rocked motionless on the

summits of the waves. Night came on, but the vessel still approached nearer. It might be said it redoubled its

speed with the darkness. From time to time, as a bloodynecked vulture rears its head out of its nest, the

formidable Greek fire darted from its sides, and cast its flame into the ocean like an incandescent snow. At

last it came within musketshot. All the men were on deck, arms in hand; the cannoneers were at their guns,

the matches were burning. It might be thought that they were about to board a frigate and to combat a crew

superior in number to their own, and not to take a canoe manned by four persons.

The sailors looked at Aramis. Aramis made a sign with his head. The skipper Yves waved a white cloth at the

end of a gaff. This was a way of striking their flag. The vessel came on like a racehorse. It launched a fresh

Greek fire which fell within twenty paces of the little canoe, and threw a stronger light upon them than the

"At the first sign of resistance," cried the commander of the vessel, "fire!" And the soldiers brought their

"Living! living, Captain!" cried some excited soldiers, "they must be taken living!"

"Well, yes, living," said the captain. Then turning towards the Bretons, "Your lives are all safe, my friends,"

Aramis started imperceptibly. For an instant his eye was fixed upon the depths of the ocean enlightened by

the last flashes of the Greek fire, flashes which ran along the sides of the waves, played upon their crests

like plumes, and rendered still more dark, more mysterious, and more terrible the abysses they covered.

Aramis leaned still more forward, and played with the ends of his long white fingers with the green water of

"The word of a gentleman," said the officer. "By my rank and by my name I swear that all but M. le

Chevalier d'Herblay shall have their lives spared. I am lieutenant of the King's frigate the 'Pomona,' and my

With a rapid gesture Aramis, already bent over the side of the boat towards the sea, with a rapid gesture

Aramis raised his head, drew himself up, and with a flashing eye and a smile upon his lips, "Throw out the

ladder, Messieurs," said he, as if the command had belonged to him. He was obeyed. Then Aramis, seizing

the ropeladder, ascended first; but instead of the terror which was expected to be displayed upon his

countenance, the surprise of the sailors of the vessel was great when they saw him walk straight up to the

commander with a firm step, look at him earnestly, make a sign to him with his hand, a mysterious and

unknown sign, at the sight of which the officer turned pale, trembled, and bowed his head. Without saying a

word, Aramis then raised his hand close to the eyes of the commander, and showed him the collet of a ring

which he wore on the ringfinger of his left hand; and while making this sign, Aramis, draped in cold, silent,

and haughty majesty, had the air of an emperor giving his hand to be kissed. The commandant, who for a

moment had raised his head, bowed a second time with marks of the most profound respect. Then stretching

his hand out in his turn towards the poop, that is to say, towards his own cabin, he drew back to allow

Aramis to go first. The three Bretons, who had come on board after their bishop, looked at one another,

stupefied. The crew were struck with silence. Five minutes after, the commander called the second lieutenant,

who returned immediately, ordering the head to be put towards Corunna. While the given order was executed,

Aramis reappeared upon the deck, and took a seat near the railing. The night had fallen, the moon had not yet

risen; and yet Aramis looked incessantly towards BelleIsle. Yves then approached the captain, who had

returned to take his post in the stern, and said in a low and humble voice, "What course are we to follow,

Aramis passed the night leaning upon the railing. Yves, on approaching him the next morning, remarked that

"the night must have been very humid, for the wood upon which the bishop's head had rested was soaked

with dew." Who knows? that dew was, perhaps, the first tears which had ever fallen from the eyes of

D'ARTAGNAN was not accustomed to resistances like that he had just experienced. He returned profoundly

irritated to Nantes. Irritation, with this vigorous man, vented itself in an impetuous attack which few people

hitherto, were they King, were they giants, had been able to resist. D'Artagnan, trembling with rage, went

straight to the castle, and asked to speak to the King. It might have been about seven o'clock in the morning;

and since his arrival at Nantes the King had been an early riser. But on arriving at the little corridor with

which we are acquainted, d'Artagnan found M. de Gesvres, who stopped him very politely, telling him not to

speak too loud lest he should disturb the King. "Is the King asleep?" said d'Artagnan. "Well, I will let him

D'Artagnan took his hat again, bowed to M. de Gesvres, and returned to his own apartments. He came back at

halfpast nine, and was told that the King was at breakfast. "That will just suit me," said d'Artagnan; "I will

M. de Brienne reminded d'Artagnan that the King would not receive any one during his repasts.

"But," said d'Artagnan, looking askant at De Brienne, "you do not know, perhaps, Monsieur, that I have the

De Brienne took the hand of the captain kindly and said, "Not at Nantes, dear M. d'Artagnan; the King in this

D'Artagnan, a little softened, asked about what o'clock the King would have finished his breakfast.

"How! don't know, what does that mean? You don't know how much time the King devotes to eating? It is

generally an hour; and if we admit that the air of the Loire gives an additional appetite, we will extend it to an

"Oh, dear M. d'Artagnan, the order is not to allow any person to remain in this corridor; I am on guard for

D'Artagnan felt his anger mounting a second time to his brain. He went out quickly, for fear of complicating

the affair by a display of illhumor. As soon as he was out he began to reflect. "The King," said he, "will not

receive me, that is evident. The young man is angry; he is afraid of the words I may speak to him. Yes; but

in the mean time BelleIsle is besieged, and my two friends will be taken or killed. Poor Porthos! As to

Aramis, he is always full of resources, and I am quite easy on his account. But no, no; Porthos is not yet an

invalid, and Aramis is not yet in his dotage. The one with his arm, the other with his imagination, will find

work for his Majesty's soldiers. Who knows if these brave men may not get up for the edification of his Most

Christian Majesty a little bastion of St. Gervais? I don't despair of it; they have cannon and a garrison. And

yet," continued d'Artagnan, "I don't know whether it would not be better to stop the combat. For myself

alone, I will not put up with either surly looks or treason on the part of the King; but for my friends, rebuffs,

insults, I may submit to everything. Shall I go to M. Colbert? Now, there is a man whom I must acquire the

habit of terrifying. I will go to M. Colbert"; and d'Artagnan set forward bravely to find M. Colbert. He was

informed that M. Colbert was working with the King at the Castle of Nantes. "Good!" cried he; "the times are

returned in which I measured my steps from M. de Treville to the cardinal, from the cardinal to the Queen,

from the Queen to Louis XIII. Truly is it said that men in growing old become children again! To the castle,

then!" He returned thither. M. de Lyonne was coming out. He gave d'Artagnan both hands, but told him that

the King had been busy all the preceding evening and all night, and that orders had been given that no one

"Not even the captain who takes the order?" cried d'Artagnan. "I think that he is rather too strong."

"Since that is the case," replied d'Artagnan, wounded to the heart, "since the captain of the Musketeers, who

has always entered the King's chamber, is no longer allowed to enter it, his cabinet, or his salle a manger,

either the King is dead or his captain is in disgrace. In either case he can no longer want him; have the

kindness, then, M. de Lyonne, who are in favor, to return and tell the King plainly that I send him my

D'Artagnan waited, walking about the corridor. De Lyonne returned. "Well, what did the King say?"

"That it was good!" said the captain, with an explosion. "That is to say that he accepts it? Good! Now, then, I

am free! I am only a plain citizen, M. de Lyonne. I have the pleasure of bidding you goodby! Farewell,

castle, corridor, antechamber! a citizen about to breathe at liberty takes his farewell of you."

And without waiting longer, the captain sprang from the terrace down the staircase where he had picked up

the fragments of Gourville's letter. Five minutes after, he was at the hostelry where, according to the custom

of all great officers who have lodgings at the castle, he had taken what was called his city chamber. But when

arrived there, instead of throwing off his sword and cloak, he took his pistols, put his money into a large

leather purse, sent for his horses from the castle stables, and gave orders for reaching Vannes during the

night. Everything went on according to his wishes. At eight o'clock in the evening he was putting his foot in

the stirrup, when M. de Gesvres appeared at the head of twelve guards in front of the hostelry. D'Artagnan

saw all from the corner of his eye, he could not fail to see those thirteen men and thirteen horses; but he

"Ah, M. de Gesvres, goodevening!" "One would say you were getting on horseback."

"Nonsense! It is of no use being delicate with me, that is all labor lost; tell me at once you are come to arrest

"Good!" said d'Artagnan, with a bantering air; "the King has nothing to do at last!"

"For Heaven's sake, Captain," said M. de Gesvres, in a low voice to the musketeer, "do not compromise

D'Artagnan laughed aloud, and replied, "March! Persons who are arrested are placed between the first six

"But as I do not arrest you," said M. de Gesvres, "you will march behind with me, if you please."

"Well," said d'Artagnan, "that is very polite, Duke; and you are right in being so, for if ever I had had to

make my rounds near your chambre de ville, I should have been courteous to you, I assure you, by the faith

"Very well! the King, who has taken the trouble to be furious, may take the trouble of getting calm again; that

"But I shall be sent to keep company with poor M. Fouquet. Mordioux! That is a gallant man, a worthy

"Here we are at our place of destination," said the duke. "Captain, for Heaven's sake be calm with the King!"

"Ah, ah! you are playing the brave man with me, Duke!" said d'Artagnan, throwing one of his defiant glances

over De Gesvres. "I have been told that you are ambitious of uniting your Guards with my Musketeers. This

"Oh, for many reasons, in the first place, for this: if I were to succeed you in the Musketeers after having

"Say met me, then. So, you were saying, if you were to succeed me after having arrested me"

"Your Musketeers, at the first exercise with ball cartridges, would all fire towards me, by mistake."

De Gesvres made d'Artagnan pass in first, and took him straight to the cabinet where the King was waiting

for his captain of the Musketeers, and placed himself behind his colleague in the antechamber. The King

could be heard distinctly, speaking aloud to Colbert, in the same cabinet where Colbert might have heard, a

few days before, the King speaking aloud with M. d'Artagnan. The guards remained as a mounted picket

before the principal gate; and the report was quickly spread through the city that Monsieur the Captain of the

Musketeers had just been arrested by order of the King. Then these men were seen to be in motion, as in the

good old times of Louis XIII and M. de Treville; groups were formed, the staircases were filled; vague

murmurs, issuing from the courts below, came rolling up to the upper stories, like the hoarse moanings of the

tidewaves. M. de Gesvres became very uneasy. He looked at his guards, who after being interrogated by the

musketeers who had just got among their ranks, began to shun them with a manifestation of uneasiness.

D'Artagnan was certainly less disturbed than M. de Gesvres, the captain of the Guards. As soon as he entered,

he had seated himself on the ledge of a window, whence, with his eagle glance, he saw without the least

emotion all that was going on. None of the progress of the fermentation which had manifested itself at the

report of his arrest had escaped him. He foresaw the moment when the explosion would take place, and we

"It would be very odd," thought he, "if this evening my praetorians should make me King of France. How I

should laugh!" But at the height all was stopped. Guards, musketeers, officers, soldiers, murmurs, and

disturbance, all dispersed, vanished, died away; no more tempest, no more menace, no more sedition. One

word had calmed the waves. The King had just said by the mouth of De Brienne, "Hush, Messieurs! you

D'Artagnan sighed. "All is over!" said he; "the Musketeers of the present day are not those of his Majesty

THE King was seated in his cabinet, with his back turned towards the door of entrance. In front of him was a

mirror in which while turning over his papers he could see with a glance those who came in. He did not take

any notice of the entrance of d'Artagnan, but laid over his letters and plans the large silk cloth which he made

use of to conceal his secrets from the importunate. D'Artagnan understood his play, and kept in the

background; so that at the end of a minute, the King, who heard nothing and could see only with the corner of

"Well, Monsieur," said the King, fixing his clear eye upon d'Artagnan, "what have you to say to me?"

"I, Sire!" replied the latter, who watched the first blow of his adversary to make a good retort; "I have nothing

to say to your Majesty, unless it be that you have caused me to be arrested, and here I am."

The King was going to reply that he had not had d'Artagnan arrested, but the sentence appeared too much like

an excuse, and he was silent. D'Artagnan likewise preserved an obstinate silence.

"Monsieur," at length resumed the King, "what did I charge you to go and do at BelleIsle? Tell me, if you

The King, while speaking these words, looked fixedly at his captain. Here d'Artagnan was too fortunate, the

"I believe," replied he, "that your Majesty does me the honor to ask what I went to BelleIsle to do?"

"Well, Sire, I know nothing about it; it is not of me that that question should be asked, but of that infinite

number of officers of all kinds to whom have been given an infinite number of orders of all kinds, while to

The King was wounded; he showed it by his reply. "Monsieur," said he, "Orders have only been given to

"And therefore I have been astonished, Sire," retorted the musketeer, "that a captain like myself, who rank

with a marshal of France, should have found himself under the orders of five or six lieutenants or majors,

good to make spies of, possibly, but not at all fit to conduct warlike expeditions. It was upon this subject I

came to demand an explanation of your Majesty, when I found the door closed against me, which, the last

"Monsieur," replied the King, "you still believe you are living in an age when kings were, as you complain of

having been, under the orders and subject to the judgment of their inferiors. You appear too much to forget

"I forget nothing at all, Sire," said the musketeer, wounded by this lesson. "Besides, I do not see in what an

"I have so well understood that, Sire, that I have respectfully offered your Majesty my resignation."

"And I have accepted it, Monsieur," said the King. "Before being separated from you I was willing to prove

"Your Majesty has kept more than your word, for your Majesty has had me arrested," said d'Artagnan, with

The King would not condescend to perceive the pleasantry, and continued seriously, "You see, Monsieur, to

"That is the mildest name I can find," pursued the King. "My idea was to take and punish rebels; was I bound

"But I was," replied d'Artagnan. "It was a cruelty on your Majesty's part to send me to take my friends and

"It was a trial I had to make, Monsieur, of pretended servants, who eat my bread, and ought to defend my

"For one bad servant your Majesty loses," said the musketeer, with bitterness, "there are ten who have, on

that same day, gone through their ordeal. Listen to me, Sire; I am not accustomed to that service. Mine is a

rebel sword when I am required to do wrong. It was wrong to send me in pursuit of two men whose lives M.

Fouquet, your Majesty's preserver, had implored you to save. Still further, these men were my friends. They

did not attack your Majesty; they succumbed to a blind anger. Besides, why were they not allowed to escape?

What crime had they committed? I admit that you may contest with me the right of judging of their conduct.

But why suspect me before the action? Why surround me with spies? Why disgrace me before the army?

Why me, in whom you have to this time showed the most entire confidence, me, who for thirty years have

been attached to your person, and have given you a thousand proofs of devotedness, for it must be said, now

that I am accused; why compel me to see three thousand of the King's soldiers march in battle against two

"One would say you have forgotten what these men have done to me!" said the King, in a hollow voice, "and

"Enough, M. d'Artagnan, enough of these dominating concerns which arise to keep the sun from my interests.

I am founding a state in which there shall be but one master, as promised you formerly; the moment is come

for keeping my promise. You wish to be, according to your tastes or your friendships, free to destroy my

plans and save my enemies; I will break you, or I will abandon you. Seek a more compliant master. I know

full well that another king would not conduct himself as I do, and would allow himself to be dominated over

by you at the risk of sending you some day to keep company with M. Fouquet and the others; but I have a

good memory, and for me services are sacred titles to gratitude, to impunity. You shall only have this lesson,

M. d'Artagnan, as the punishment of your want of discipline; and I will not imitate my predecessors in their

anger, not having imitated them in their favor. And then, other reasons make me act mildly towards you: in

the first place, because you are a man of sense, a man of great sense, a man of heart, and you will be a good

servant to him who shall have mastered you; secondly, because you will cease to have any motives for

insubordination. Your friends are destroyed or ruined by me. These supports upon which your capricious

mind instinctively relied I have made to disappear. At this moment, my soldiers have taken or killed the

D'Artagnan became pale. "Taken or killed!" cried he. "Oh, Sire, if you thought what you tell me, if you were

sure you were telling me the truth, I should forget all that is just, all that is magnanimous in your words, to

call you a barbarous King and an unnatural man. But I pardon you these words," said he, smiling with pride;

"I pardon them to a young Prince who does not know, who cannot comprehend, what such men as M.

d'Herblay, M. du Vallon, and myself are. Taken or killed! Ah, ah, Sire! tell me, if the news is true, how much

it has cost you in men and money. We will then reckon if the game has been worth the stakes."

As he spoke thus, the King went up to him in great anger and said, "M. d'Artagnan, your replies are those of a

"Sire," replied the captain of the Musketeers, coldly, "I remember that one morning at Vaux you addressed

that question to people who did not know how to answer it, while I, on my part, did answer it. If I recognized

my King on that day, when the thing was not easy, I think it would be useless to ask it of me now, when your

At these words, Louis cast down his eyes. It appeared to him that the shade of the unfortunate Philippe passed

between d'Artagnan and himself, to evoke the remembrance of that terrible adventure. Almost at the same

moment an officer entered and placed a despatch in the hands of the King, who, in his turn, changed color

while reading it. "Monsieur," said he, "what I learn here you would know later; it is better I should tell you,

and that you should learn it from the mouth of your King. A battle has taken place at BelleIsle."

"Oh! ah!" said d'Artagnan, with a calm air, though his heart beat enough to break through his chest. "Well,

D'Artagnan could not restrain a cry of triumph. "Only," added the King, "I have a fleet which closely

"So that," said the musketeer, brought back to his dismal ideas, "if these two gentlemen are taken"

"They know it, because you must have told them yourself; and all the country knows it."

"Ah!" said the King, negligently, taking up his letter again. "Very well, they will be dead then, M.

d'Artagnan, and that will come to the same thing, since I should only take them to have them hanged."

"I have told you," pursued Louis XIV, "that I would one day be to you an affectionate, generous, and constant

master. You are now the only man of former times worthy of my anger or my friendship. I will not be sparing

of either to you, according to your conduct. Could you serve a King, M. d'Artagnan, who should have a

hundred other kings, his equals, in the kingdom? Could I, tell me, do with such weakness the great things I

meditate? Have you ever seen an artist effect solid work with a rebellious instrument? Far from us, Monsieur,

those old leavens of feudal abuses! The Fronde, which threatened to ruin the monarchy, has emancipated it. I

am master at home, Captain d'Artagnan, and I shall have servants who, wanting perhaps your genius, will

carry devotedness and obedience up to heroism. Of what consequence, I ask you, of what consequence is it

that God has given no genius to arms and legs? It is to the head he has given it; and the head, you know, all

D'Artagnan started. Louis XIV continued as if he had seen nothing, although this emotion had not at all

escaped him. "Now, let us conclude between us two that bargain which I promised to make with you one day

when you found me very small, at Blois. Do me justice, Monsieur, when you think that I do not make any

one pay for the tears of shame I then shed. Look around you: lofty heads have bowed. Bow yours, or choose

the exile that will best suit you. Perhaps, when reflecting upon it, you will find that this King has a generous

heart, who reckons sufficiently upon your loyalty to allow you to leave him, knowing you to be dissatisfied,

and the possessor of a great state secret. You are a brave man, I know. Why have you judged me before trial?

D'Artagnan remained bewildered, mute, undecided for the first time in his life. He had just found an

adversary worthy of him. This was no longer trick, it was calculation; it was no longer violence, it was

strength; it was no longer passion, it was will; it was no longer boasting; it was wisdom. This young man who

had brought down Fouquet and could do without d'Artagnan, deranged all the somewhat headstrong

"Come, let us see what stops you?" said the King, kindly. "You have given in your resignation; shall I refuse

to accept it? I admit that it may be hard for an old captain to recover his goodhumor."

"Oh!" replied d'Artagnan, in a melancholy tone, "that is not my most serious care. I hesitate to take back my

resignation because I am old in comparison with you, and I have habits difficult to abandon. Henceforward,

you must have courtiers who know how to amuse you, madmen who will get themselves killed to carry out

what you call your great works. Great they will be, I feel; but if by chance I should not think them so? I have

seen war, Sire; I have seen peace; I have served Richelieu and Mazarin; I have been scorched with your

father at the fire of Rochelle, riddled with thrusts like a sieve, having made a new skin ten times, as serpents

do. After affronts and injustices, I have a command which was formerly something, because it gave the

bearer the right of speaking as he liked to his King. But your captain of the Musketeers will henceforward be

an officer guarding the lower doors. Truly, Sire, if that is to be the employment from this time, seize the

opportunity of our being on good terms to take it from me. Do not imagine that I bear malice. No, you have

tamed me, as you say; but it must be confessed that in taming me you have lessened me, by bowing me, you

have convicted me of weakness. If you knew how well it suits me to carry my head high, and what a pitiful

mien I shall have while scenting the dust of your carpets! Oh, Sire, I regret sincerely, and you will regret as I

do, those times when the King of France saw in his vestibules all those insolent gentlemen, lean, always

swearing, crossgrained mastiffs, who could bite mortally in days of battle. Those men were the best of

courtiers for the hand which fed them, they would lick it; but for the hand that struck them, oh, the bite that

followed! A little gold on the lace of their cloaks, a little more portliness of figure, a little sprinkling of gray

in their dry hair, and you will behold the handsome dukes and peers, the haughty marshals of France. But

why should I tell you all this? The King is my master; he wills that I should make verses; he wills that I

should polish the mosaics of his antechambers with satin shoe. Mordioux! that is difficult; but I have got over

greater difficulties than that. I will do it. Why will I do it? Because I love money? I have enough. Because I

am ambitious? My career is bounded. Because I love the court? No; I will remain because I have been

accustomed for thirty years to go and take the order of the King, and to have said to me, 'Goodevening,

d'Artagnan,' with a smile I did not beg for. That smile I will beg for! Are you content, Sire?" And d'Artagnan

bowed his silvered head, upon which the smiling King placed his white hand with pride.

"Thanks, my old servant, my faithful friend," said he. "As, reckoning from this day, I have no longer any

enemies in France, it remains with me to send you to a foreign field to gather your marshal's baton. Depend

upon me for finding you an opportunity. In the mean time, eat of my best bread and sleep tranquilly."

"That is all kind and well!" said d'Artagnan, much agitated. "But those poor men at BelleIsle, one of them,

"Well, then, go and take it to them, if it be still time. But do you answer for them?"

"Go, then. Tomorrow I set out for Paris. Return by that time, for I do not wish you to leave me in future."

"Be assured of that, Sire," said d'Artagnan, kissing the royal hand. And with a heart swelling with joy, he

THE King had returned to Paris, and with him d'Artagnan, who in twentyfour hours, having made with the

greatest care all possible inquiries at BelleIsle, had learned nothing of the secret so well kept by the heavy

rock of Locmaria, which had fallen on the heroic Porthos. The captain of the Musketeers only knew what

those two valiant men, what these two friends, whose defence he had so nobly taken up, whose lives he had

so earnestly endeavored to save, aided by three faithful Bretons, had accomplished against a whole army.

He had been able to see, launched on the neighboring heath, the human remains which had stained with blood

the stones scattered among the flowering broom. He learned also that a boat had been seen far out at sea, and

that, like a bird of prey, a royal vessel had pursued, overtaken, and devoured this poor little bird which was

flying with rapid wings. But there d'Artagnan's certainties ended. The field of conjectures was thrown open at

this boundary. Now, what could he conjecture? The vessel had not returned. It is true that a brisk wind had

prevailed for three days; but the corvette was known to be a good sailor and solid in its timbers; it could not

fear gales of wind, and it ought, according to the calculation of d'Artagnan, to have either returned to Brest,

or come back to the mouth of the Loire. Such was the news, ambiguous, it is true, but in some degree

reassuring to him personally, which d'Artagnan brought to Louis XIV when the King, followed by all the

Louis, satisfied with his success Louis, more mild and more affable since he felt himself more powerful

had not ceased for an instant to ride close to the carriage door of Mademoiselle de la Valliere. Everybody had

been anxious to amuse the two Queens, so as to make them forget this abandonment of the son and the

husband. Everything breathed of the future; the past was nothing to anybody: only that past came like a

painful and bleeding wound to the hearts of some tender and devoted spirits. Scarcely was the King

reinstalled in Paris when he received a touching proof of this. Louis XIV had just risen and taken his first

repast, when his captain of the Musketeers presented himself before him. D'Artagnan was pale and looked

unhappy. The King, at the first glance, perceived the change in a countenance generally so unconcerned.

"Sire, I have lost one of my friends, M. du Vallon, in the affair of BelleIsle." And while speaking these

words, d'Artagnan fixed his falcon eye upon Louis XIV, to catch the first feeling that would show itself.

"To what good? Your grief, my friend, is so worthy of respect! It was my duty to treat it kindly. To have

informed you of this misfortune, which I knew would pain you so greatly, d'Artagnan, would have been, in

your eyes, to have triumphed over you. Yes, I knew that M. du Vallon had buried himself beneath the rocks

of Locmaria; I knew that M. d'Herblay had taken one of my vessels with its crew, and had compelled it to

convey him to Bayonne. But I was willing that you should learn these matters in a direct manner, in order that

you might be convinced that my friends are with me respected and sacred; that always the man in me will

immolate himself to men, while the King is so often found to sacrifice men to his majesty and power."

"By this letter, Sire, which M. d'Herblay, free and out of danger, writes me from Bayonne."

"Look here," said the King, drawing from a casket placed upon the table close to the seat upon which

d'Artagnan was leaning a letter copied exactly from that of M. d'Herblay; "here is the very letter which

Colbert placed in my hands a week before you received yours. I am well served, you may perceive."

"Yes, Sire," murmured the musketeer; "you were the only man whose fortune was capable of dominating the

fortunes and strength of my two friends. You have used it, Sire; but you will not abuse it, will you?"

"D'Artagnan," said the King, with a smile beaming with kindness, "I could have M. d'Herblay carried off

from the territories of the King of Spain, and brought here alive to inflict justice upon him. But, d'Artagnan,

be assured I will not yield to this first and natural impulse. He is free; let him continue free."

"Oh, Sire! you will not always remain so clement, so noble, so generous as you have shown yourself with

respect to me and M. d'Herblay; you will have about you councillors who will cure you of that weakness."

"No, d'Artagnan, you are mistaken when you accuse my council of urging me to pursue rigorous measures.

"As for you," continued the King, with a kindness very uncommon with him, "I have several pieces of good

news to announce to you; but you shall know them, my dear captain, the moment I have finished my

accounts. I have said that I wish to make, and would make, your fortune; that promise will soon be a reality."

"A thousand times thanks, Sire! I can wait. But I implore you, while I go and practise patience, that your

Majesty will deign to notice those poor people who have for so long a time besieged your antechamber, and

"Enemies of your Majesty." The King raised his head. "Friends of M. Fouquet," added d'Artagnan.

D'Artagnan turned rapidly on his heel, raised the tapestry which closed the entrance to the royal chamber, and

The three men d'Artagnan had named soon appeared at the door of the cabinet in which were the King and his

captain. A profound silence prevailed. The courtiers, at the approach of the friends of the unfortunate

Superintendent of the Finances, drew back, as if fearful of being soiled by contact with disgrace and

misfortune. D'Artagnan, with a quick step, came forward to take by the hand the unhappy men who stood

hesitating and trembling at the door of the cabinet; he led them up to the armchair of the King, who, having

placed himself in the embrasure of a window, awaited the moment of presentation, and was preparing himself

The first of the friends of Fouquet that advanced was Pelisson. He did not weep, but his tears were only

restrained that the King might the better hear his voice and his prayer. Gourville bit his lips to check his tears,

out of respect for the King. La Fontaine buried his face in his handkerchief, and the only signs of life he gave

The King had preserved all his dignity. His countenance was impassive. He even maintained the frown which

had appeared when d'Artagnan had announced his enemies to him. He made a gesture which signified,

"Speak"; and he remained standing, with his eyes searchingly fixed upon these desponding men. Pelisson

bowed down to the ground, and La Fontaine knelt as people do in churches. This obstinate silence, disturbed

only by such dismal sighs and groans, began to excite in the King, not compassion, but impatience.

"M. Pelisson," said he, in a sharp dry tone, "M. Gourville, and you, Monsieur," and he did not name La

Fontaine, "I cannot, without sensible displeasure, see you come to plead for one of the greatest criminals

that it is the duty of my justice to punish. A King does not allow himself to be softened but by tears or by

remorse, the tears of the innocent, the remorse of the guilty. I have no faith either in the remorse of M.

Fouquet or the tears of his friends, because the one is tainted to the very heart, and the others ought to dread

coming to offend me in my own palace. For these reasons, I beg you, M. Pelisson, M. Gourville, and you,

Monsieur, to say nothing that will not plainly proclaim the respect you have for my will."

"Sire," replied Pelisson, trembling at these terrible words, "we are come to say nothing to your Majesty that is

not the most profound expression of the most sincere respect and love which are due to a King from all his

subjects. Your Majesty's justice is unquestionable; every one must yield to the sentences it pronounces. We

respectfully bow before it. Far from us be the idea of coming to defend him who has had the misfortune to

offend your Majesty. He who has incurred your displeasure may be a friend of ours, but he is an enemy of the

"Besides," interrupted the King, calmed by that supplicating voice and those persuasive words, "my

parliament will decide. I do not strike without having weighed the crime; my justice does not wield the sword

"Therefore have we every confidence in that impartiality of the King, and hope to make our feeble voices

heard, with the consent of your Majesty, when the hour for defending an accused friend shall strike for us."

"In that case, Messieurs, what do you ask of me?" said the King, with his most imposing air.

"Sire," continued Pelisson, "the accused leaves a wife and a family. The little property he had was scarcely

sufficient to pay his debts, and Madame Fouquet since the captivity of her husband is abandoned by

everybody. The hand of your Majesty strikes like the hand of God. When the Lord sends the curse of leprosy

or pestilence into a family, every one flies and shuns the abode of the leprous or the plaguestricken.

Sometimes, but very rarely, a generous physician alone ventures to approach the accursed threshold, passes it

with courage, and exposes his life to combat death. He is the last resource of the dying; he is the instrument

of heavenly mercy. Sire, we supplicate you with clasped hands and bended knees, as the Deity is supplicated!

Madame Fouquet has no longer any friends, no longer any support; she weeps in her poor deserted house,

abandoned by all those who besieged its door in the hour of prosperity; she has neither credit nor hope left. At

least, the unhappy wretch upon whom your anger falls receives from you, however culpable he may be, the

daily bread which is moistened by his tears. As much afflicted, more destitute than her husband, Madame

Fouquet she who had the honor to receive your Majesty at her table; Madame Fouquet, the wife of the

ancient Superintendent of your Majesty's Finances, Madame Fouquet has no longer bread."

Here the mortal silence which enchained the breath of Pelisson's two friends was broken by an outburst of

sobs; and d'Artagnan, whose chest heaved at hearing this humble prayer, turned round towards the corner of

The King had kept his eye dry and his countenance severe; but the color had mounted to his cheeks, and the

"We come humbly to ask your Majesty," replied Pelisson, upon whom emotion was fast gaining, "to permit

us, without incurring the displeasure of your Majesty, to lend to Madame Fouquet two thousand pistoles

collected among the old friends of her husband, in order that the widow may not stand in need of the

At the word "widow," pronounced by Pelisson while Fouquet was still alive, the King turned very pale. His

pride fell; pity rose from his heart to his lips. He cast a softened look upon the men who knelt sobbing at his

feet. "God forbid," said he, "that I should confound the innocent with the guilty! They know me but ill who

doubt my mercy towards the weak. I strike none but the arrogant. Do, Messieurs, do all that your hearts

The three men arose in silence with dried eyes. The tears had been dried up by contact with their burning

cheeks and eyelids. They had not the strength to address their thanks to the King, who himself cut short their

D'Artagnan remained alone with the King. "Well!" said he, approaching the young Prince, who interrogated

him with his look, "well, my master! If you had not the device which your sun adorns, I would recommend

you one which M. Conrart should translate into Latin, 'Mild with the lowly; rough with the strong.'"

The King smiled and passed into the next apartment after having said to d'Artagnan, "I give you the leave of

absence you must want to put in order the affairs of your friend, the late M. du Vallon."

AT PIERREFONDS everything was in mourning. The courts were deserted, the stables closed, the parterres

neglected. In the basins, the fountains, formerly so spreading, noisy, and sparkling, had stopped of

themselves. Along the roads around the chateau came a few grave personages mounted upon mules or farm

horses. These were country neighbors, cures, and bailiffs of adjacent estates. All these people entered the

chateau silently, gave their horses to a melancholylooking groom, and directed their steps, conducted by a

huntsman in black, to the great diningroom, where Mousqueton received them at the door. Mousqueton had

become so thin in two days that his clothes moved upon him like sheaths which are too large, in which the

blades of swords dance about at each motion. His face, composed of red and white, like that of the Madonna

of Vandyke, was furrowed by two silver rivulets which had dug their beds in his cheeks, as full formerly as

they had become thin since his grief began. At each fresh arrival Mousqueton shed fresh tears, and it was

pitiful to see him press his throat with his fat hand to keep from bursting into sobs and lamentations. All these

visits were for the purpose of hearing the reading of Porthos's will, announced for that day, and at which all

the covetous and all who were allied by friendship with the deceased were anxious to be present, as he had

The visitors took their places as they arrived; and the great room had just been closed when the clock struck

twelve, the hour fixed for the reading. Porthos's procurator who was naturally the successor of Master

Coquenard began by slowly unfolding the vast parchment upon which the powerful hand of Porthos had

traced his last wishes. The seal broken, the spectacles put on, the preliminary cough having sounded, every

one opened his ears. Mousqueton had squatted himself in a corner, the better to weep and the less to hear.

All at once the foldingdoors of the great room, which had been shut, were thrown open as if by miracle, and

a manly figure appeared upon the threshold, resplendent in the full light of the sun. This was d'Artagnan, who

had come alone to the gate, and finding nobody to hold his stirrup, had tied his horse to a knocker and

announced himself. The splendor of the daylight invading the room, the murmur of all present, and more than

all that the instinct of the faithful dog drew Mousqueton from his revery; he raised his head, recognized the

old friend of his master, and crying out with grief, embraced the captain's knees, watering the floor with tears.

D'Artagnan raised up the poor intendant, embraced him as if he had been a brother, and having nobly saluted

the assembly, who all bowed as they whispered to one another his name, went and took his seat at the

extremity of the great carved oak hall, still holding by the hand poor Mousqueton, who was suffocating and

sank down upon the steps. Then the procurator, who, like the rest, was considerably agitated, began the

Porthos, after a profession of faith of the most Christian character, asked pardon of his enemies for all the

injuries he might have done them. At this paragraph, a ray of inexpressible pride beamed from the eyes of

d'Artagnan. He recalled to his mind the old soldier, all those enemies of Porthos brought to the earth by his

valiant hand; he reckoned up the numbers of them, and said to himself that Porthos had acted wisely not to

detail his enemies or the injuries done to them, or the task would have been too much for the reader. Then

"1. The domain of Pierrefonds, lands, woods, meadows, waters, and forests, surrounded by good walls.

"2. The domain of Bracieux, chateau, forests, ploughed lands, forming three farms.

"As to my personal or movable property, so called because it cannot be moved, as is so well explained by my

"1. In goods which I cannot detail here for want of room, and which furnish all my chateaux, or houses, but

"2. In twenty horses for saddle and draught, which I have particularly at my chateau of Pierrefonds, and

which are called Bayard, Roland, Charlemagne, Pepin, Dunois, La Hire, Ogier, Samson, Milon, Nemrod,

Urgande, Armide, Falstrade, Dalila, Rebecca, Yolande, Finette, Grisette, Lisette, and Musette.

"3. In sixty dogs, forming six packs, divided as follows: the first, for the stag; the second, for the wolf; the

third, for the wild boar; the fourth, for the hare; and the two others, for watch and guard.

"5. My wines of Anjou, selected for Athos, who liked them formerly; my wines of Burgundy, Champagne,

Bordeaux, and Spain, stocking eight cellars and twelve vaults in my various houses.

"6. My pictures and statues, which are said to be of great value and which are sufficiently numerous to

"7. My library, consisting of six thousand volumes, quite new, which have never been opened.

"8. My silver plate, which perhaps is a little worn, but which ought to weigh from a thousand to twelve

hundred pounds, for I had great trouble in lifting the coffer that contained it, and could not carry it more than

"9. All these objects, in addition to the table and house linen, are divided in the residences I liked the best...."

Here the reader stopped to take breath. Every one sighed, coughed, and redoubled his attention. The

"I have lived without having any children, and it is probable I never shall have any, which to me is a cutting

grief. And yet I am mistaken, for I have a son, in common with my other friends: he is M. Raoul Auguste

"This young nobleman has appeared to me worthy to succeed to the three valiant gentlemen of whom I am

Here a sharp sound interrupted the reader. It was d'Artagnan's sword, which, slipping from his baldric, had

fallen on the sonorous flooring. Every one turned his eyes that way, and saw that a large tear had rolled from

the thick lid of d'Artagnan upon his aquiline nose, the luminous edge of which shone like a crescent

"This is why I have left all my property, movable or immovable, comprised in the above enumerations, to M.

le Vicomte Raoul Auguste Jules de Bragelonne, son of M. le Comte de la Fere, to console him for the grief he

A long murmur ran through the assemblage. The procurator continued, seconded by the flashing eye of

d'Artagnan, which, glancing over the assembly, quickly restored the interrupted silence:

"On condition that M. le Vicomte de Bragelonne do give to M. le Chevalier d'Artagnan, captain of the King's

"On condition that M. le Vicomte de Bragelonne do pay a good pension to M. le Chevalier d'Herblay, my

"On condition that M. le Vicomte de Bragelonne maintain those of my servants who have spent ten years in

"I leave to my intendant Mousqueton all my clothes, of city, war, or chase, to the number of fortyseven

suits, with the assurance that he will wear them till they are worn out, for the love of, and in remembrance of,

"Moreover, I bequeath to M. le Vicomte de Bragelonne my old servant and faithful friend, Mousqueton,

already named, with the charge to the said viscount to act in such a way that Mousqueton shall declare when

On hearing these words, Mousqueton, bowed, pale and trembling; his large shoulders shook convulsively; his

countenance, impressed by a frightful grief, appeared from between his icy hands, and the spectators saw him

stagger and hesitate, as if, though wishing to leave the hall, he did not know the way.

"Mousqueton, my good friend," said d'Artagnan, "go and make your preparations. I will take you with me to

Mousqueton made no reply. He scarcely breathed, feeling as if everything in that hall would from that time

The procurator finished his reading, after which the greater part of those who had come to hear the last will of

Porthos dispersed by degrees, many disappointed, but all penetrated with respect. As for d'Artagnan, left

alone after having received the formal compliments of the procurator, he was lost in admiration of the

wisdom of the testator, who had so judiciously bestowed his wealth upon the most necessitous and the most

worthy, with a delicacy that none among the most refined courtiers and the most noble hearts could have

When Porthos enjoined Raoul de Bragelonne to give to d'Artagnan all he would ask, he knew well, did that

worthy Porthos, that d'Artagnan would ask or take nothing; and in case he did demand anything, none but

himself could say what. Porthos left a pension to Aramis, who, if he should be inclined to ask too much,

would be checked by the example of d'Artagnan; and that word "exile," thrown out by the testator without

apparent intention, was it not the most mild, the most exquisite criticism upon that conduct of Aramis which

had brought about the death of Porthos? But there was no mention of Athos in the testament of the dead;

could the latter for a moment suppose that the son would not offer the best part to the father? The rough mind

of Porthos had judged all these causes, caught all these shades, better than the law, better than custom, better

"Porthos was a heart," said d'Artagnan to himself, with a sigh. As he made this reflection he fancied he heard

a groan in the room above him, and he thought immediately of poor Mousqueton, whom it was necessary to

divert from his grief. For this purpose he left the hall hastily to seek the worthy intendant. He ascended the

staircase leading to the first story, and perceived in Porthos's own chamber a heap of clothes of all colors and

all materials, upon which Mousqueton had laid himself down after heaping them together. It was the legacy

of the faithful friend. These clothes were truly his own; they had been given to him. The hand of Mousqueton

was stretched over these relics, which he kissed with all his lips, with all his face, which he covered with his

whole body. D'Artagnan approached to console the poor fellow. "My God!" said he; "he does not stir, he

But d'Artagnan was mistaken; Mousqueton was dead, dead, like the dog who having lost his master, comes

WHILE all these affairs were separating forever the four musketeers, formerly bound together in a manner

that seemed indissoluble, Athos, left alone after the departure of Raoul, began to pay his tribute to that death

by anticipation which is called the absence of those we love. Returned to his house at Blois, no longer having

even Grimaud to receive a poor smile when he passed through the parterre, Athos daily felt the decline of the

vigor of a nature which for so long a time had appeared infallible. Age, which had been kept back by the

presence of the beloved object, arrived with that cortege of pains and inconveniences which increases in

proportion as its coming is delayed. Athos had no longer his son's presence to incite him to walk firmly, with

his head erect, as a good example; he had no longer in those brilliant eyes of the young man an everardent

focus at which to rekindle the fire of his looks. And then, it must be said, this nature, exquisite in its

tenderness and its reserve, no longer finding anything that comprehended its feelings, gave itself up to grief

with all the warmth with which vulgar natures give themselves up to joy. The Comte de la Fere, who had

remained a young man up to his sixtysecond year; the warrior who had preserved his strength in spite of

fatigues, his freshness of mind in spite of misfortune, his mild serenity of soul and body in spite of Milady, in

spite of Mazarin, in spite of La Valliere, Athos had become an old man in a week from the moment at which

he had lost the support of his latter youth. Still handsome though bent, noble but sad, gently, and tottering

under his gray hairs, he sought since his solitude the glades where the rays of the sun penetrated through the

foliage of the walks. He discontinued all the vigorous exercises he had enjoyed through life, since Raoul was

no longer with him. The servants, accustomed to see him stirring with the dawn at all seasons, were

astonished to hear seven o'clock strike before their master had quitted his bed. Athos remained in bed with a

book under his pillow; but he did not sleep, neither did he read. Remaining in bed that he might no longer

have to carry his body, he allowed his soul and spirit to wander from their envelope, and return to his son or

His people were sometimes terrified to see him for hours together absorbed in a silent revery, mute and

insensible; he no longer heard the timid step of the servant who came to the door of his chamber to watch the

sleeping or waking of his master. It sometimes happened that he forgot that the day had half passed away,

that the hours for the first two meals were gone by. Then he was awakened. He rose, descended to his shady

walk, then came out a little into the sun, as if to partake its warmth for a minute with his absent child; and

then the dismal, monotonous walk was resumed, until, quite exhausted, he regained the chamber and the

bed, his domicil by choice. For several days the count did not speak a word; he refused to receive the visits

that were paid him, and during the night he was seen to relight his lamp and pass long hours in writing letters

Athos wrote one of these letters to Vannes, another to Fontainebleau; they remained without answers. We

know why Aramis had quitted France, and d'Artagnan was travelling from Nantes to Paris, from Paris to

Pierrefonds. Athos's valet de chambre observed that he shortened his walk every day by several turns. The

great alley of limes soon became too long for feet that used to traverse it a hundred times in a day. The count

walked feebly as far as the middle trees, seated himself upon a mossy bank which sloped towards a side path,

and there waited the return of his strength, or rather the return of night. Very shortly a hundred steps

exhausted him. At length Athos refused to rise at all; he declined all nourishment, and his terrified people,

although he did not complain, although he had a smile on his lips, although he continued to speak with his

sweet voice, his people went to Blois in search of the old physician of the late Monsieur, and brought him to

the Comte de la Fere in such a fashion that he could see the count without being himself seen. For this

purpose they placed him in a closet adjoining the chamber of the patient, and implored him not to show

himself, in the fear of displeasing their master, who had not asked for a physician. The doctor obeyed: Athos

was a sort of model for the gentlemen of the country; the Blaisois boasted of possessing this sacred relic of

the old French glories. Athos was a great seigneur, compared with such nobles as the King improvised by

touching with his yellow and prolific sceptre the dry trunks of the heraldic trees of the province.

People respected Athos, we say, and they loved him. The physician could not bear to see his people weep,

and to see flock round him the poor of the canton, to whom Athos gave life and consolation by his kind

words and his charities. He examined, therefore, from the depths of his hidingplace, the nature of that

mysterious malady which bent down and devoured more mortally every day a man but lately so full of life

and of a desire to live. He remarked upon the cheeks of Athos the purple of fever, which fires itself and feeds

itself, slow fever, pitiless, born in a fold of the heart, sheltering itself behind that rampart, growing from the

suffering it engenders, at once cause and effect of a perilous situation. The count spoke to nobody, we say; he

did not even talk to himself. His thought feared noise; it approached to that degree of overexcitement which

borders upon ecstasy. Man thus absorbed, though he does not yet belong to God, already belongs no longer to

earth. The doctor remained for several hours studying this painful struggle of the will against a superior

power; he was terrified at seeing those eyes always fixed, always directed towards an invisible object, at

seeing beat with the same movement that heart from which never a sigh arose to vary the melancholy state.

Sometimes the acuteness of pain awakens hope in the mind of a physician. Half a day passed away thus. The

doctor formed his resolution like a brave man, like a man of firm mind; he issued suddenly from his place of

retreat, and went straight up to Athos, who saw him without evincing more surprise than if he had not

"Monsieur the Count, I crave your pardon," said the doctor, coming up to the patient with open arms; "but I

have a reproach to make you. You shall hear me." And he seated himself by the pillow of Athos, who with

"Well, Monsieur, you are in a fair way of doing so; to remain thus is suicide. Get well, Monsieur the Count!

"Of what? Find the disease first. For my part, I never knew myself better. Never did the sky appear more blue

"Concealed! not at all. I have the absence of my son, Doctor, that is my malady, and I do not conceal it."

"Monsieur the Count, your son lives, he is strong, he has all the future before him of men of his merit and of

"But I do live, Doctor; oh! be satisfied of that," added he, with a melancholy smile. "As long as Raoul lives, it

"A very simple thing. At this moment, Doctor, I allow my life to be in a state of suspense. A forgetful,

dissipated, indifferent life would be above my strength now that I have Raoul no longer with me. You do not

ask the lamp to burn when the spark has not lighted the flame; do not ask me to live noisily and brilliantly. I

vegetate, I prepare myself, I wait. Look, Doctor; you remember those soldiers we have so often seen together

at the ports, where they were waiting to embark, lying down, indifferent, half upon one element, half upon

the other. They were neither at the place where the sea was going to carry them nor at the place where the

earth was going to lose them; baggage prepared, minds upon the stretch, looks fixed, they waited. I repeat

that word; it is the one which describes my present life. Lying down, like the soldiers, my ear on the alert for

the reports that may reach me, I wish to be ready to set out at the first summons. Who will make me that

summons, life or death, God or Raoul? My baggage is packed; my soul is prepared; I await the signal. I

The doctor knew the temper of that mind; he appreciated the strength of that body. He reflected for a

moment, told himself that words were useless, remedies absurd; and he left the chateau, exhorting Athos's

The doctor being gone, Athos evinced neither anger nor vexation at having been disturbed. He did not even

desire that all letters that came should be brought to him directly. He knew very well that every distraction

which should arrive would be a joy, a hope, which his servants would have paid with their blood to procure

him. Sleep had become rare. By force of thought, Athos forgot himself, for a few hours at most in a revery

more profound, more obscure than other people would have called a revery. The momentary repose which

this forgetfulness afforded the body, fatigued the soul, for Athos lived a double life during these wanderings

of his understanding. One night, he dreamed that Raoul was dressing himself in a tent to go upon an

expedition commanded by M. de Beaufort in person. The young man was sad; he clasped his cuirass slowly,

"What afflicts me is the death of Porthos, our so dear friend," replied Raoul. "I suffer here for the grief you

And the vision disappeared with the slumber of Athos. At daybreak one of his servants entered his master's

"Porthos is dead!" cried he, after the first lines. "Oh, Raoul, Raoul, thanks! thou keepest thy promise, thou

And Athos, seized with a mortal sweat, fainted in his bed, without any other cause than his weakness.

WHEN this fainting of Athos had ceased, the count, almost ashamed of having given way before this

supernatural event, dressed himself and ordered his horse, determined to ride to Blois to open more certain

correspondence with either Raoul, d'Artagnan, or Aramis. In fact, this letter from Aramis informed the Comte

de la Fere of the bad success of the expedition of BelleIsle. It gave him sufficient details of the death of

Porthos to move the tender and devoted heart of Athos to its last fibres. Athos wished to go and pay his friend

Porthos a last visit. To render this honor to his companion in arms, he meant to send to d'Artagnan, to prevail

upon him to recommence the painful voyage to BelleIsle, to accomplish in his company that sad

pilgrimage to the tomb of the giant he had so much loved; then he would return to his dwelling to obey that

secret influence which was conducting him to eternity by a mysterious road. But scarcely had his joyous

servants dressed their master, whom they saw with pleasure preparing himself for a journey which might

dissipate his melancholy; scarcely had the count's gentlest horse been saddled and brought to the door, when

the father of Raoul felt his head become confused, his legs give way, and he clearly perceived the

impossibility of going one step farther. He ordered himself to be carried into the sun; they laid him upon his

bed of moss, where he passed a full hour before he could recover his spirits. Nothing could be more natural

than this weakness after the inert repose of the latter days. Athos took a bouillon to give him strength, and

bathed his dried lips in a glassful of the wine he loved the best, that old Anjou wine mentioned by Porthos in

his admirable will. Then, refreshed, free in mind, he had his horse brought again; but he required the aid of

his servants to mount painfully into the saddle. He did not go a hundred paces; a shivering seized him again

at the turning of the road. "This is very strange!" said he to his valet de chambre, who accompanied him.

"Let us stop, Monsieur, I conjure you!" replied the faithful servant; "how pale you are becoming!"

"That will not prevent my pursuing my route, now I have once started," replied the count; and he gave his

horse his head again. But suddenly the animal, instead of obeying the thought of his master, stopped. A

"Something," said Athos, "wills that I should go no farther. Support me," added he, stretching out his arms;

"quick! come closer! I feel all my muscles relax, and I shall fall from my horse."

The valet had seen the movement made by his master at the moment he received the order. He went up to him

quickly, and received the count in his arms; and as they were still sufficiently near the house for the servants,

who had remained at the door to watch their master's departure, to perceive the disorder in the usually regular

proceeding of the count, the valet called his comrades by gesture and voice, and all hastened to his assistance.

Athos had gone but a few steps on his return when he felt himself better again. His strength seemed to revive,

and with it the desire to go to Blois. He made his horse turn round; but at the animal's first steps, he sank

"Well, decidedly," said he, "IT IS WILLED that I should stay at home." His people flocked around him; they

lifted him from his horse and carried him as quickly as possible into the house. Everything was soon prepared

"You will be sure to remember," said he, disposing himself to sleep, "that I expect letters from Africa this

"Monsieur will no doubt hear with pleasure that Blaisois's son is gone on horseback, to gain an hour over the

The count fell asleep, but his disturbed slumber resembled suffering more than repose. The servant who

watched him saw several times the expression of interior torture imprinted upon his features. Perhaps Athos

The day passed away. Blaisois's son returned; the courier had brought no news. The count reckoned the

minutes with despair; he shuddered when those minutes had formed an hour. The idea that he was forgotten

seized him once, and brought on a fearful pang of the heart. Everybody in the house had given up all hopes of

the courier, his hour had long passed. Four times the express sent to Blois had repeated his journey, and there

was nothing to the address of the count. Athos knew that the courier arrived only once a week. Here, then,

was a delay of eight mortal days to be endured. He began the night in this painful persuasion. All that a sick

man, irritated by suffering, can add of melancholy suppositions to probabilities always sad, Athos heaped up

during the early hours of this dismal night. The fever rose; it invaded the chest, where the fire soon caught,

according to the expression of the physician, who had been brought back from Blois by the son of Blaisois on

his last journey. It soon reached the head. The physician made two successive bleedings, which unlodged it,

but left the patient very weak, and without power of action except in his brain; and yet this redoubtable fever

had ceased. It attacked with its last strokes the stiffened extremities; and as midnight struck it yielded.

The physician, seeing the incontestable improvement, returned to Blois, after having ordered some

prescriptions, declaring that the count was saved. Then began for Athos a strange, indefinable state. Free to

think, his mind turned towards Raoul, that beloved son. His imagination painted the fields of Africa in the

environs of Djidgelli, where M. de Beaufort was to land his army. There were gray rocks, rendered green in

certain parts by the waters of the sea when it lashed the shore in storms and tempests. Beyond the shore,

strewed over with these rocks like tombs, ascended, in form of an amphitheatre among mastictrees and

cactus, a sort of village, full of smoke, confused noises, and terrified movements. Suddenly, from the bosom

of this smoke arose a flame, which, gaining headway, presently covered the whole surface of this village, and

increased by degrees, including in its red vortices tears, cries, arms extended towards heaven.

There was, for a moment, a frightful pelemele of timbers falling, of swords broken, of stones calcined, of

trees burned and disappearing. It was a strange thing that in this chaos, in which Athos distinguished raised

arms, in which he heard cries, sobs, and groans, he did not see one human figure. The cannon thundered at a

distance, musketry cracked, the sea moaned, flocks made their escape, bounding over the verdant slope; but

not a soldier to apply the match to the batteries of cannon, not a sailor to assist in manoeuvering the fleet, not

a shepherd for the flocks. After the ruin of the village and the destruction of the forts which commanded it, a

ruin and a destruction operated magically without the cooperation of a single human being, the flame was

extinguished, the smoke began to descend, then diminished in intensity, paled, and disappeared entirely.

Night then came over the scene, a night dark upon the earth, brilliant in the firmament. The large, blazing

stars which sparkled in the African sky shone without lighting anything even around them.

A long silence ensued, which gave, for a moment, repose to the troubled imagination of Athos; and as he felt

that that which he saw was not terminated, he applied his observation more attentively to the strange

spectacle which his imagination had presented. This spectacle was soon continued for him. A mild and pale

moon arose behind the declivities of the coast, and streaking at first the undulating ripples of the sea, which

appeared to have calmed after the roarings it had sent forth during the vision of Athos, the moon, we say,

shed its diamonds and opals upon the briers and bushes of the hill. The gray rocks, like so many silent and

attentive phantoms, appeared to raise their verdant heads to examine likewise the field of battle by the light of

the moon; and Athos perceived that that field, entirely empty during the combat, was now strewn with fallen

An inexpressible shudder of fear and horror seized the soul of Athos when he recognized the white and blue

uniform of the soldiers of Picardy, with their long pikes and blue handles, and their muskets marked with the

fleurdelis on the butts; when he saw all the gaping, cold wounds looking up to the azure heavens as if to

demand back of them the souls to which they had opened a passage; when he saw the slaughtered horses,

stiff, with their tongues hanging out at one side of their mouths, sleeping in the icy blood pooled around

them, staining their furniture and their manes; when he saw the white horse of M. de Beaufort, with his head

beaten to pieces, in the first ranks of the dead. Athos passed a cold hand over his brow, which he was

astonished not to find burning. He was convinced by this touch that he was present as a spectator, without

fever, on the day after a battle fought upon the shores of Djidgelli by the army of the expedition which he had

seen leave the coasts of France and disappear in the horizon, and of which he had saluted with thought and

gesture the last cannonshot fired by the duke as a signal of farewell to his country.

Who can paint the mortal agony with which his soul followed, like a vigilant eye, the trace of those dead

bodies, and examined them, one after the other, to see if Raoul slept among them? Who can express the

intoxication of joy with which Athos bowed before God, and gave thanks for not having seen him he sought

with so much fear among the dead? In fact, fallen dead in their ranks, stiff, icy, all these dead, easy to be

recognized, seemed to turn with kindness and respect towards the Comte de la Fere, to be the better seen by

him during his funereal inspection. But yet he was astonished while viewing all these bodies, not to perceive

the survivors. To such a point did the illusion extend, that this vision was for the father a real voyage made by

Fatigued, therefore, with having traversed seas and continents, he sought repose under one of the tents

sheltered behind a rock, on the top of which floated the white fleurdelise pennon. He looked for a soldier to

conduct him to the tent of M. de Beaufort. Then, while his eye was wandering over the plain, turning in all

directions, he saw a white form appear behind the resinous myrtles. This figure was clothed in the costume of

an officer; it held in its hand a broken sword; it advanced slowly towards Athos, who, stopping short and

fixing his eyes upon it, neither spoke nor moved, but wished to open his arms, because in this silent and pale

officer he had just recognized Raoul. The count attempted to utter a cry; but it remained stifled in his throat.

Raoul with a gesture directed him to be silent, placing his finger on his lips and drawing back by degrees,

without Athos being able to see any motion of his legs. The count, more pale than Raoul, more trembling,

followed his son, traversing painfully briers and bushes, stones and ditches, Raoul appearing not to touch the

earth, and no obstacle impeding the lightness of his march. The count, whom the inequalities of the path

fatigued, soon stopped exhausted. Raoul still continued to beckon him to follow him. The tender father, to

whom love restored strength, made a last effort and climbed the mountain after the young man, who drew

At length Athos gained the crest of the hill, and saw, thrown out in black upon the horizon whitened by the

moon, the airy, visionary form of Raoul. Athos stretched out his hand to get closer to his beloved son upon

the plateau, and the latter also stretched out his; but suddenly, as if the young man had been drawn away in

spite of himself, still retreating, he left the earth; and Athos saw the clear blue sky shine between the feet of

his child and the ground of the hill. Raoul rose insensibly into the void, still smiling, still inviting with a

gesture; he departed towards heaven. Athos uttered a cry of terrified tenderness. He looked below again. He

saw a camp destroyed, and all those white bodies of the royal army, like so many motionless atoms. And

then, when raising his head, he saw still, still, his son beckoning him to ascend with him.

ATHOS was at this part of his marvelous vision when the charm was suddenly broken by a great noise rising

from the outward gates of the house. A horse was heard galloping over the hard gravel of the great alley; and

the sound of noisy and animated conversations ascended to the chamber in which the count was dreaming.

Athos did not stir from the place he occupied; he scarcely turned his head towards the door to ascertain the

sooner what these noises could be. A heavy step ascended the stairs; the horse which had recently galloped

with such rapidity departed slowly towards the stables. Great hesitation appeared in the steps which by

degrees approached the chamber of Athos. A door then was opened, and Athos, turning a little towards the

part of the room the noise came from, cried in a weak voice, "It is a courier from Africa, is it not?"

"No, Monsieur the Count," replied a voice which made the father of Raoul start upright in his bed.

"Grimaud!" murmured he; and the sweat began to pour down his cheeks. Grimaud appeared in the doorway.

It was no longer the Grimaud we have seen, still young with courage and devotion, when he jumped the first

into the boat which was to convey Raoul de Bragelonne to the vessels of the royal fleet. He was a stern and

pale old man, his clothes covered with dust, his few scattered hairs whitened by old age. He trembled while

leaning against the doorframe, and was near falling on seeing by the light of the lamps the countenance of

his master. These two men, who had lived so long together in a community of intelligence, and whose eyes,

accustomed to economize expressions, knew how to say so many things silently these two old friends, one

as noble as the other in heart, if they were unequal in fortune and birth, remained silent while looking at each

other. By the exchange of a single glance they had just read to the bottom of each other's heart. Grimaud bore

upon his countenance the impression of a grief already old, of a familiarity with sorrow. He appeared now to

have at his command but one interpreter of his thought. As formerly he was accustomed not to speak, he now

had accustomed himself not to smile. Athos read at a glance all these shades upon the visage of his faithful

servant, and in the same tone he would have employed to speak to Raoul in his dream, "Grimaud," said he,

Behind Grimaud the other servants listened breathlessly, with their eyes fixed upon the bed of their sick

"Yes," replied the old man, heaving up the monosyllable from his chest with a hoarse broken sigh.

Then arose voices of lamentation, which groaned without measure, and filled with regrets and prayers the

chamber where the agonized father searched with his eyes the portrait of his son. This was for Athos a

transition which led him to his dream. Without uttering a cry, without shedding a tear, patient, mild, resigned

as a martyr, he raised his eyes towards heaven, in order to there see again, rising above the mountain of

Djidgelli, the beloved shade which was leaving him at the moment of Grimaud's arrival. Without doubt,

while looking towards the heavens, when resuming his marvelous dream, he returned to the same road by

which the vision, at once so terrible and so sweet, had led him before; for after having gently closed his eyes,

he reopened them and began to smile, he had just seen Raoul, who had smiled upon him. With his hands

clasped upon his breast, his face turned towards the window, bathed by the fresh air of night, which brought

to his pillow the aroma of the flowers and the woods, Athos entered, never again to come out of it, into the

contemplation of that paradise which the living never see. God willed, no doubt, to open to this elect the

treasures of eternal beatitude at the hour when other men tremble with the idea of being severely received by

the Lord, and cling to this life they know, in the dread of the other life of which they get a glimpse by the

dismal murky torches of death. Athos was guided by the pure and serene soul of his son, which aspired to be

like the paternal soul. Everything for this just man was melody and perfume in the rough road which souls

take to return to the celestial country. After an hour of this ecstasy, Athos softly raised his hands as white as

wax; the smile did not quit his lips, and he murmured low, so low as scarcely to be audible, these three words

addressed to God or to Raoul, "HERE I AM!" And his hands fell down slowly, as if he himself had laid them

Death had been kind and mild to this noble creature. It had spared him the tortures of the agony, the

convulsions of the last departure; it had opened with an indulgent finger the gates of eternity to that noble

soul worthy of all its respect. God had no doubt ordered it thus, that the pious remembrance of this death

should remain in the hearts of those present and in the memory of other men, a death which made the

passage from this life to the other seem desirable to those whose existence upon this earth leads them not to

dread the last judgment. Athos preserved, even in the eternal sleep, his placid and sincere smile, an

ornament which was to accompany him to the tomb. The quietude of his features, the peacefulness of his

departure, made his servants for a long time doubt whether he had really quitted life.

The count's people wished to remove Grimaud, who from a distance devoured the face become so pale, and

did not approach from the pious fear of bringing to him the breath of death. But Grimaud, fatigued as he was,

refused to leave the room. He seated himself upon the threshold, watching his master with the vigilance of a

sentinel and jealous to receive either his first waking look or his last dying sigh. The noises were all hushed

in the house, and every one respected the slumber of their lord. But Grimaud, anxiously listening, perceived

that the count no longer breathed. He raised himself, with his hands resting on the ground, and looked to see

if there did not appear some motion in the body of his master. Nothing! Fear seized him; he rose up, and at

the very moment heard some one coming up the stairs. A noise of spurs knocking against a sword a warlike

sound, familiar to his ears stopped him as he was going towards the bed of Athos. A voice more sonorous

Grimaud seized his arm in his bony fingers, and pointed to the bed, upon the sheets of which the livid tints of

A choked breath, the opposite to a sharp cry, swelled the throat of d'Artagnan. He advanced on tiptoe,

trembling, frightened at the noise his feet made upon the floor, and his heart rent by a nameless agony. He

placed his ear to the breast of Athos, his face to the count's mouth. Neither noise nor breath! D'Artagnan drew

back. Grimaud, who had followed him with his eyes, and for whom each of his movements had been a

revelation, came timidly and seated himself at the foot of the bed and closely pressed his lips to the sheet

which was raised by the stiffened feet of his master. Then large drops began to flow from his red eyes. This

old man in despair, who wept, bowed down without uttering a word, presented the most moving spectacle

The captain remained standing in contemplation before that smiling dead man, who seemed to have kept his

last thought to give to his best friend, to the man he had loved next to Raoul, a gracious welcome even

beyond life; and as if to reply to that exalted flattery of hospitality, d'Artagnan went and kissed Athos

fervently on the brow, and with his trembling fingers closed his eyes. Then he seated himself by the pillow

without dread of that dead man, who had been so kind and affectionate to him for thirtyfive years; he fed

himself greedily with the remembrances which the noble visage of the count brought to his mind in crowds,

some blooming and charming as that smile; some dark, dismal, and icy as that face with its eyes closed for

All at once, the bitter flood which mounted from minute to minute invaded his heart and swelled his breast

almost to bursting. Incapable of mastering his emotion, he arose; and tearing himself violently from the

chamber where he had just found dead him to whom he came to report the news of the death of Porthos, he

uttered sobs so heartrending that the servants, who seemed only to wait for an explosion of grief, answered

to it by their lugubrious clamors, and the dogs of the late count by their lamentable howlings. Grimaud was

the only one who did not lift up his voice. Even in the paroxysm of his grief he would not have dared to

profane the dead, or for the first time disturb the slumber of his master. Besides, Athos had accustomed him

At daybreak, d'Artagnan, who had wandered about the lower hall, biting his fingers to stifle his sighs, went

up once more; and watching the moment when Grimaud turned his head towards him, he made him a sign to

come to him, which the faithful servant obeyed without making more noise than a shadow. D'Artagnan went

down again, followed by Grimaud; and when he had gained the vestibule, taking the old man's hands,

"Grimaud," said he, "I have seen how the father died; now let me know how the son died."

Grimaud drew from his breast a large letter, upon the envelope of which was traced the address of Athos.

D'Artagnan recognized the writing of M. de Beaufort, broke the seal, and began to read, walking about in the

first blue rays of day in the dark alley of old limes, marked by the still visible footsteps of the count who had

THE Duc de Beaufort wrote to Athos. The letter destined for the living only reached the dead. God had

"MY DEAR COUNT," wrote the Prince in his large, bad, schoolboy's hand, "a great misfortune has struck

us amid a great triumph. The King loses one of the bravest of soldiers; I lose a friend; you lose M. de

"He has died gloriously, and so gloriously that I have not the strength to weep as I could wish.

"Receive my sad compliments, my dear Count. Heaven distributes trials according to the greatness of our

The letter contained a relation written by one of the Prince's secretaries. It was the most touching recital, and

the most true, of that dismal episode which destroyed two lives. D'Artagnan, accustomed to battle emotions,

and with a heart armed against tenderness, could not help starting on reading the name of Raoul, the name

"In the morning," said the Prince's secretary, "Monseigneur commanded the attack. Normandy and Picardy

had taken position in the gray rocks dominated by the heights of the mountains, upon the declivity of which

"The cannon beginning to fire opened the action; the regiments marched full of resolution; the pikemen had

their pikes elevated; the bearers of muskets had their weapons ready. The Prince followed attentively the

march and movements of the troops, so as to be able to sustain them with a strong reserve. With Monseigneur

were the oldest captains and his aidesdecamp. M. le Vicomte de Bragelonne had received orders not to

leave his Highness. In the mean time the enemy's cannon, which at first had thundered with little success

against the masses, had regulated its fire; and the balls, better directed, had killed several men near the Prince.

The regiments formed in column, and advancing against the ramparts were rather roughly handled. There was

a hesitation in our troops, who found themselves ill seconded by the artillery. In fact, the batteries which had

been established the evening before had but a weak and uncertain aim, on account of their position. The

direction from below to above lessened the accuracy of the shots as well as their range.

"Monseigneur, comprehending the bad effect of this position of the siege artillery, commanded the frigates

moored in the little roadstead to begin a regular fire against the place. M. de Bragelonne offered himself at

once to carry this order; but Monseigneur refused to acquiesce in the viscount's request. Monseigneur was

right, for he loved and wished to spare the young nobleman. He was quite right, and the event justified his

foresight and refusal, for scarcely had the sergeant charged with the message solicited by M. de Bragelonne

gained the seashore, when two shots from long carbines issued from the enemy's ranks and laid him low.

The sergeant fell, dyeing the sand with his blood; observing which, M. de Bragelonne smiled at Monseigneur,

who said to him, 'You see, Viscount, I have saved your life. Report that, some day, to M. le Comte de la Fere,

in order that learning it from you he may thank me.' The young nobleman smiled sadly, and replied to the

duke, 'It is true, Monseigneur, that but for your kindness I should have been killed down there where the poor

sergeant has fallen, and should be at rest.' M. de Bragelonne made this reply in such a tone that Monseigneur

answered him warmly: 'Good God! young man, one would say that your mouth waters for death; but, by the

soul of Henry IV, I have promised your father to bring you back alive; and please the Lord, I will keep my

"M. de Bragelonne colored, and replied in a lower voice, 'Monseigneur, pardon me, I beseech you; I have

always had the desire to go to meet good opportunities; and it is so delightful to distinguish ourselves before

"Monseigneur was a little softened by this; and turning to the officers who surrounded him, gave his different

orders. The grenadiers of the two regiments got near enough to the ditches and the intrenchments to launch

their grenades, which had but little effect. In the mean while, M. d'Estrees, who commanded the fleet, having

seen the attempt of the sergeant to approach the vessels, understood that he must act without orders, and

opened his fire. Then the Arabs, finding themselves seriously injured by the balls from the fleet, and

beholding the destruction and the ruins of their bad walls, uttered the most fearful cries. Their horsemen

descended the mountain at the gallop, bent over their saddles and rushed full tilt upon the columns of

infantry, which crossing their pikes stopped this mad assault. Repulsed by the firm attitude of the battalion,

the Arabs threw themselves with great fury upon the commander's position, which at that moment was not

"The danger was great; Monseigneur drew his sword; his secretaries and people imitated him; the officers of

the suite engaged in combat with the furious Arabs. It was then that M. de Bragelonne was able to gratify the

inclination he had manifested from the beginning of the action. He fought near the Prince with the valor of a

Roman, and killed three Arabs with his small sword. But it was evident that his bravery did not arise from the

sentiment of pride natural to all who fight. It was impetuous, affected, forced even; he sought to intoxicate

himself with noise and carnage. He excited himself to such a degree that Monseigneur called out to him to

stop. He must have heard the voice of Monseigneur, because we who were close to him heard it. He did not,

however, stop, but continued his course towards the intrenchments. As M. de Bragelonne was a

welldisciplined officer, this disobedience to the orders of Monseigneur very much surprised everybody, and

M. de Beaufort redoubled his earnestness, crying, 'Stop, Bragelonne! Where are you going? Stop,' repeated

"We all, imitating the gesture of Monsieur the Duke, we all raised our hands. We expected that the cavalier

would turn bridle; but M. de Bragelonne continued to ride towards the palisades.

"'Stop, Bragelonne!' repeated the Prince, in a very loud voice; 'stop! in the name of your father!'

"At these words M. de Bragelonne turned round, his countenance expressed a lively grief; but he did not stop.

We then concluded that his horse must have run away with him. When Monsieur the Duke had imagined that

the viscount was not master of his horse, and had seen him precede the first grenadiers, his Highness cried,

'Musketeers, kill his horse! A hundred pistoles for him who shall kill his horse!' But who could expect to hit

the beast without at least wounding his rider? No one durst venture. At length one presented himself; he was

a sharpshooter of the regiment of Picardy, named Luzerne, who took aim at the animal, fired, and hit him in

the quarters, for we saw the blood redden the hair of the horse. Instead of falling, the cursed genet carried him

on more furiously than ever. Every Picard who saw this unfortunate young man rushing on to meet death,

shouted in the loudest manner, 'Throw yourself off, Monsieur the Viscount! off! off! throw yourself off!' M.

de Bragelonne was an officer much beloved in the army! Already had the viscount arrived within pistolshot

of the ramparts; a discharge was poured upon him and enveloped him in its fire and smoke. We lost sight of

"The viscount was summoned to surrender by the Arabs, but he made them a negative sign with his head, and

continued to march towards the palisades. This was a mortal imprudence. Nevertheless, the whole army was

pleased that he would not retreat, since ill chance had led him so near. He marched a few paces farther, and

the two regiments clapped their hands. It was at this moment the second discharge shook the walls, and the

Vicomte de Bragelonne again disappeared in the smoke; but this time the smoke was dispersed in vain, we

no longer saw him standing. He was down, with his head lower than his legs, among the bushes; and the

Arabs began to think of leaving their intrenchments to come and cut off his head or take his body, as is their

custom with infidels. But Monseigneur le Duc de Beaufort had followed all this with his eyes, and the sad

spectacle drew from him many and painful sighs. He then cried aloud, seeing the Arabs running like white

phantoms among the mastictrees, 'Grenadiers! pikemen! will you let them take that noble body?'

"Saying these words and waving his sword, he himself rode towards the enemy. The regiments, rushing in his

steps, ran in their turn, uttering cries as terrible as those of the Arabs were wild.

"The combat began over the body of M. de Bragelonne; and with such inveteracy was it fought that a hundred

and sixty Arabs were left upon the field by the side of at least fifty of our troops. It was a lieutenant from

Normandy who took the body of the viscount on his shoulders and carried it back to the lines. The advantage

was, however, pursued; the regiments took the reserve with them; and the enemy's palisades were destroyed.

At three o'clock the fire of the Arabs ceased. The hand to hand fight lasted two hours; that was a massacre. At

five o'clock we were victorious on all the points; the enemy had abandoned his positions, and Monsieur the

Duke had ordered the white flag to be planted upon the culminating point of the little mountain. It was then

we had time to think of M. de Bragelonne, who had eight large wounds through his body, by which almost all

his blood had escaped. Still, however, he breathed, which afforded inexpressible joy to Monseigneur, who

insisted upon being present at the first dressing of the wounds and at the consultation of the surgeons. There

were two among them who declared M. de Bragelonne would live. Monseigneur threw his arms round their

"The viscount heard these transports of joy, and whether he was in despair, or whether he suffered much from

his wounds, he expressed by his countenance a contradiction which gave rise to reflection, particularly in one

of the secretaries when he had heard what follows. The third surgeon was Frere Sylvain de SaintCosme, the

most learned of ours. He probed the wounds in his turn, and said nothing. M. de Bragelonne fixed his eyes

steadily upon the skillful surgeon, and seemed to interrogate his every movement. The latter, upon being

questioned by Monseigneur, replied that he saw plainly three mortal wounds out of eight, but so strong was

the constitution of the wounded, so rich was he in youth, and so merciful was the goodness of God that

perhaps M. de Bragelonne might recover, particularly if he did not move in the slightest manner. Frere

Sylvain added, turning towards his assistants, 'Above everything, do not allow him to move even a finger, or

you will kill him'; and we all left the tent in very low spirits. That secretary I have mentioned, on leaving the

tent, thought he perceived a faint and sad smile glide over the lips of M. de Bragelonne when the duke said to

him in a cheerful, kind voice, 'We shall save you, Viscount, we shall save you!'

"In the evening, when it was believed the wounded young man had taken some repose, one of the assistants

entered his tent, but rushed immediately out again, uttering loud cries. We all ran up in disorder, Monsieur

the Duke with us; and the assistant pointed to the body of M. de Bragelonne upon the ground at the foot of

his bed, bathed in the remainder of his blood. It appeared that he had had some convulsion, some febrile

movement, and that he had fallen; that the fall had accelerated his end, according to the prediction of Frere

Sylvain. We raised the viscount; he was cold and dead. He held a lock of fair hair in his right hand, and that

Then followed the details of the expedition, and of the victory obtained over the Arabs. D'Artagnan stopped

at the account of the death of poor Raoul. "Oh," murmured he, "unhappy boy! a suicide!' And turning his eyes

towards the chamber of the chateau in which Athos slept in eternal sleep, "They kept their promise to each

other," said he, in a low voice. "Now I believe them to be happy; they must be reunited"; and he returned

through the parterre with slow and melancholy steps. All the village, all the neighborhood, was filled with

grieving neighbors relating to one another the double catastrophe, and making preparations for the funeral.

ON THE morrow all the nobility of the provinces, of the environs, and from wherever messengers had carried

the news, were seen to arrive. D'Artagnan had shut himself up, unwilling to speak to anybody. Two such

heavy deaths falling upon the captain so closely after the death of Porthos, for a long time oppressed that

spirit which had hitherto been so indefatigable and invulnerable. Except Grimaud, who entered his chamber

once, the musketeer saw neither servants nor guests. He supposed, from the noises in the house and the

continual coming and going, that preparations were making for the funeral of the count. He wrote to the King

to ask for an extension of his leave of absence. Grimaud, as we have said, had entered d'Artagnan's

apartment, had seated himself upon a joint stool near the door, like a man who meditates profoundly; then,

rising, he made a sign to d'Artagnan to follow him. The latter obeyed in silence. Grimaud descended to the

count's bedchamber, showed the captain with his finger the place of the empty bed, and raised his eyes

"Yes," replied d'Artagnan; "yes, good Grimaud, now with the son he loved so much!"

Grimaud left the chamber and led the way to the hall where, according to the custom of the province, the

body was laid out previously to its being buried forever. D'Artagnan was struck at seeing two open coffins in

the hall. In reply to the mute invitation of Grimaud, he approached and saw in one of them Athos, still

handsome in death, and in the other Raoul, with his eyes closed, his cheeks pearly as those of the Pallas of

Virgil, with a smile on his violet lips. He shuddered at seeing the father and son, those two departed souls,

represented on earth by two silent, melancholy bodies, incapable of touching each other, however close they

might be. "Raoul here?" murmured he; "oh, Grimaud, why did you not tell me this?"

Grimaud shook his head and made no reply; but taking d'Artagnan by the hand, he led him to the coffin and

showed him under the thin windingsheet the black wounds by which life had escaped. The captain turned

away his eyes, and judging it useless to question Grimaud, who would not answer, he recollected that M. de

Beaufort's secretary had written more than he, d'Artagnan, had had the courage to read. Taking up the recital

of the affair which had cost Raoul his life, he found these words, which terminated the last paragraph of the

"Monsieur the Duke has ordered that the body of Monsieur the Viscount should be embalmed, after the

manner practised by the Arabs when they wish their bodies to be carried to their native land; and Monsieur

the Duke has appointed relays, so that a confidential servant who had brought up the young man might take

"And so," thought d'Artagnan, "I shall follow thy funeral, my dear boy, already old; I, who am of no value

on earth, and I shall scatter the dust upon that brow which I kissed but two months since. God has willed it

to be so, thou hast willed it to be so thyself; I have no longer the right even to weep. Thou hast chosen

At length arrived the moment when the cold remains of these two gentlemen were to be returned to the earth.

There was such an affluence of military and other people that up to the place of sepulcher, which was a

chapel in the plain, the road from the city was filled with horsemen and pedestrians in mourning habits. Athos

had chosen for his restingplace the little enclosure of a chapel erected by himself near the boundary of his

estates. He had had the stones, cut in 1550, brought from an old Gothic manorhouse in Berry, which had

sheltered his early youth. The chapel, thus rebuilt, thus transported, was pleasantly placed under the foliage of

poplars and sycamores. Services were held in it every Sunday by the curd of the neighboring village, to

whom Athos paid an allowance of two hundred livres for this purpose; and all the vassals of his domain, to

the number of about forty, the laborers and the farmers, with their families, came hither to hear Mass,

Behind the chapel extended, surrounded by two high hedges of nuttrees, elders, whitethorns, and a deep

ditch, the little enclosure, uncultivated, it is true, but gay in its wildness; because the mosses there were

high; because the wild heliotropes and wallflowers there mixed their perfumes; because beneath the tall

chestnuts issued a large spring, a prisoner in a cistern of marble; and upon the thyme all around alighted

thousands of bees from the neighboring plains, while chaffinches and redthroats sang cheerfully among the

flowers of the hedge. It was to this place the two coffins were brought, attended by a silent and respectful

crowd. The office of the dead being celebrated, the last adieux paid to the noble departed, the assembly

dispersed, talking, along the roads, of the virtues and mild death of the father, of the hopes the son had given,

Gradually all noises were extinguished, as were the lamps illumining the humble nave. The minister bowed

for a last time to the altar and the still fresh graves; then, followed by his assistant, who rang a hoarse bell, he

slowly took the road back to the presbytery. D'Artagnan, left alone, perceived that night was coming on. He

had forgotten the hour while thinking of the dead. He arose from the oaken bench on which he was seated in

the chapel, and wished, as the priest had done, to go and bid a last adieu to the double grave which contained

A woman was praying, kneeling on the moist earth. D'Artagnan stopped at the door of the chapel to avoid

disturbing this woman, and also to endeavor to see who was the pious friend who performed this sacred duty

with so much zeal and perseverance. The unknown concealed her face in her hands, which were white as

alabaster. From the noble simplicity of her costume, she seemed to be a woman of distinction. Outside the

enclosure were several horses mounted by servants, and a travellingcarriage waiting for this lady.

D'Artagnan in vain sought to make out what caused her delay. She continued praying; she frequently passed

her handkerchief over her face, by which d'Artagnan perceived that she was weeping. He saw her strike her

breast with the pitiless compunction of a Christian woman. He heard her several times cry, as if from a

wounded heart, "Pardon! pardon!" and as she appeared to abandon herself entirely to her grief, as she threw

herself down, almost fainting, amid complaints and prayers, d'Artagnan, touched by this love for his so much

regretted friends, made a few steps towards the grave, in order to interrupt the melancholy colloquy of the

penitent with the dead. But as soon as his step sounded on the gravel, the unknown raised her head, revealing

to d'Artagnan a face bathed with tears, but a wellknown face; it was Mademoiselle de la Valliere. "M.

"You!" replied the captain in a stern voice, "you here! Oh, Madame, I should better have liked to see you

decked with flowers in the mansion of the Comte de la Fere. You would have wept less they too I too!"

"For it is you," added this pitiless friend of the dead, "it is you who have laid these two men in the grave."

"God forbid, Madame, that I should offend a woman, or that I should make her weep in vain! but I must say

that the place of the murderer is not upon the grave of her victims." She wished to reply. "What I now tell

She clasped her hands. "I know," said she, "I have caused the death of the Vicomte de Bragelonne."

"The news arrived at court yesterday. I have travelled during the night forty leagues to come and ask pardon

of the count, whom I supposed to be still living, and to supplicate God upon the tomb of Raoul that he would

send me all the misfortunes I have merited, except a single one. Now, Monsieur, I know that the death of the

son has killed the father. I have two crimes to reproach myself with; I have two punishments to look for from

"I will repeat to you, Mademoiselle," said d'Artagnan, "what M. de Bragelonne said of you at Antibes, when

he already meditated death: 'If pride and coquetry have misled her, I pardon her while despising her. If love

has produced her error, I pardon her, swearing that no one could have loved her as I have done.'"

"You know," interrupted Louise, "that for my love I was about to sacrifice myself; you know whether I

suffered when you met me, lost, dying, abandoned. Well! never have I suffered so much as now; because

then I hoped, I desired, now I have nothing to wish for; because this death drags away all my joy into the

tomb; because I can no longer dare to love without remorse, and I feel that he whom I love oh! that is the

"Well, then," added she, "dear M. d'Artagnan, do not overwhelm me today, I again implore you. I am like the

branch torn from the trunk, I no longer hold to anything in this world, and a current drags me on, I know not

whither. I love madly, I love to the point of coming to tell it, impious as I am, over the ashes of the dead; and

I do not blush for it, I have no remorse on account of it. This love is a religion. Only, as hereafter you will

see me, alone, forgotten, disdained; as you will see me punished with that with which I am destined to be

punished, spare me in my ephemeral happiness, leave it to me for a few days, for a few minutes. Now, even

at the moment I am speaking to you perhaps it no longer exists. My God! This double murder is perhaps

While she was speaking thus, the sound of voices and the tread of horses drew the attention of the captain. M.

de SaintAignan came to seek La Valliere. The King, he said, was a prey to jealousy and uneasinesss. De

SaintAignan did not see d'Artagnan, halfconcealed by the trunk of a chestnuttree which shaded the two

graves. Louise thanked De SaintAignan, and dismissed him with a gesture. He rejoined the party outside the

"You see, Madame," said the captain, bitterly, to the young woman, You see that your happiness still lasts."

The young woman raised her head with a solemn air. "A day will come," said she, "when you will repent of

having judged me so harshly. On that day, it will be I who will pray God to forgive you for having been

unjust towards me. Besides, I shall suffer so much that you will be the first to pity my sufferings. Do not

reproach me with that happiness, M. d'Artagnan; it costs me dear, and I have not paid all my debt." Saying

these words, she again knelt down, softly and affectionately. "Pardon me, the last time, my affianced Raoul!"

said she. "I have broken our chain; we are both destined to die of grief. It is thou who departest the first; fear

nothing, I shall follow thee. See, only, that I have not been base, and that I have come to bid thee this last

adieu. The Lord is my witness, Raoul, that if with my life I could have redeemed thine, I would have given

She gathered a branch and stuck it into the ground; then, wiping the tears from her eyes, she bowed to

The captain watched the departure of the horses, horsemen, and carriage; then crossing his arms upon his

swelling chest, "When will it be my turn to depart?" said he, in an agitated voice. "What is there left for man

after youth, after love, after glory, after friendship, after strength, after riches? That rock, under which sleeps

Porthos, who possessed all I have named; this moss, under which repose Athos and Raoul, who possessed

He hesitated a moment with a dull eye; then, drawing himself up, "Forward! still forward!" said he. "When it

He touched the earth, moistened with the evening dew, with the tips of his fingers, made a sign as if he had

been at the benitier of a church, and retook alone ever alone the road to Paris. EPILOGUE

FOUR years after the scene we have just described, two horsemen, well mounted, traversed Blois early in the

morning, for the purpose of arranging a birdingparty which the King intended to make in that uneven plain

which the Loire divides in two, and which borders on the one side on Meung, on the other on Amboise. These

were the captain of the King's harriers and the governor of the falcons personages greatly respected in the

time of Louis XIII, but rather neglected by his successor. These two horsemen, having reconnoitred the

ground, were returning, their observations made, when they perceived some little groups of soldiers here and

there whom the sergeants were placing at distances at the openings of the enclosures. These were the King's

Musketeers. Behind them came, upon a good horse, the captain, known by his richly embroidered uniform.

His hair was gray, his beard was becoming so. He appeared a little bent, although sitting and handling his

"M. d'Artagnan does not get any older," said the captain of the harriers to his colleague the falconer; "with ten

"That is true," replied the falconer. "I haven't seen any change in him for the last twenty years."

But this officer was mistaken; d'Artagnan in the last four years had lived twelve years. Age imprinted its

pitiless claws at each corner of his eyes; his brow was bald; his hands, formerly brown and nervous, were

D'Artagnan accosted the officers with the shade of affability which distinguishes superior men, and received

"It is rather for me to say that to you, Messieurs," replied the captain, "for nowadays the King makes more

"Ah! it is not as it was in the good old times," sighed the falconer. "Do you remember, M. d'Artagnan, when

the late King flew the pie in the vineyards beyond Beaugency? Ah, dame! you were not captain of the

"And you were nothing but undercorporal of the tiercels," replied d'Artagnan, laughing. "Never mind that; it

was a good time, seeing that it is always a good time when we are young. Goodday, Monsieur the Captain

"You do me honor, Monsieur the Count," said the latter. D'Artagnan made no reply. The title of count had not

"Are you not very fatigued with the long journey you have had, Monsieur the Captain?" continued the

"Two hundred and sixty to go, and as many to come back," said d'Artagnan, quietly.

"Why, poor M. Fouquet," continued the falconer, still in a low voice. The captain of the harriers had

"No," replied d'Artagnan, "the poor man frets terribly; he cannot comprehend how imprisonment can be a

favor. He says that the parliament had absolved him by banishing him, and that banishment is liberty. He

does not imagine that they have sworn his death, and that to save his life from the claws of the parliament

"Ah, yes; the poor man had a near chance of the scaffold," replied the falconer; "it is said that M. Colbert had

given orders to the governor of the Bastille, and that the execution was ordered."

"Yes," said the captain of the harriers, approaching, "M. Fouquet is now at Pignerol; he has richly deserved it.

He has had the good fortune to be conducted there by you; he had robbed the King enough."

D'Artagnan cast at the master of the dogs one of his evil looks, and said to him, "Monsieur, if any one told me

that you had eaten your dogs' meat, not only would I refuse to believe it, but, still more, if you were

condemned to the whip or the jail for it, I should pity you, and would not allow people to speak ill of you.

And yet, Monsieur, honest man as you may be, I assure you that you are not more so than poor M. Fouquet

After having undergone this sharp rebuke, the captain of the harriers hung his head, and allowed the falconer

"He is content," said the falconer, in a low voice, to the musketeer; "we all know that harriers are in fashion

D'Artagnan smiled in a melancholy manner at seeing this great political question resolved by the discontent

of such humble interests. He for a moment ran over in his mind the glorious existence of the superintendent,

the crumbling away of his fortunes, and the melancholy death that awaited him; and to conclude, "Did M.

"Oh, passionately, Monsieur!" replied the falconer, with an accent of bitter regret and a sigh that was the

D'Artagnan allowed the illhumor of the one and the regrets of the other to pass, and continued to advance

into the plain. They could already catch glimpses of the huntsmen at the issues of the wood, the feathers of

the outriders passing like shooting stars across the clearing, and the white horses cutting with their luminous

"But," resumed d'Artagnan, "will the sport be long? Pray, give us a good swift bird, for I am very tired. Is it a

"Both, M. d'Artagnan," said the falconer; "but you need not be alarmed, the King is not much of a sportsman.

He does not sport on his own account; he only wishes to give amusement to the ladies."

The words "to the ladies" were so strongly accented that it set d'Artagnan listening. "Ah!" said he, looking at

The captain of the harriers smiled, no doubt with a view of making it up with the musketeer.

"Oh, you may safely laugh," said d'Artagnan; "I know nothing of current news. I arrived only yesterday, after

a month's absence. I left the court mourning the death of the QueenMother. The King was not willing to

take any amusement after receiving the last sigh of Anne of Austria; but everything has an end in this world.

"And everything begins as well as ends," said the captain of the dogs, with a coarse laugh.

"Ah!" said d'Artagnan a second time, he burned to know; but dignity would not allow him to interrogate

The captain gave him a significant wink; but d'Artagnan was unwilling to learn anything from this man.

"It appears that the Queen, a little neglected since the death of her motherinlaw, complained to the King,

who replied to her, 'Do I not sleep with you every night, Madame? What more do you want?'"

"Ah!" said d'Artagnan, "poor woman! She must heartily hate Mademoiselle de la Valliere."

"Who then" The horn interrupted this conversation. It summoned the dogs and the hawks. The falconer and

his companion set off immediately, leaving d'Artagnan alone in the midst of the suspended sentence. The

King appeared at a distance, surrounded by ladies and horsemen. All the troop advanced in beautiful order, at

a foot's pace, the horns of various sorts animating the dogs and the horses. It was a movement, a noise, a

mirage of light, of which nothing now can give an idea, unless it be the fictitious splendor or false majesty of

a theatrical spectacle. D'Artagnan, with an eye a little weakened, distinguished behind the group three

carriages. The first was intended for the Queen; it was empty. D'Artagnan, who did not see Mademoiselle de

la Valliere by the King's side, on looking about for her, saw her in the second carriage. She was alone with

two of her women, who seemed as dull as their mistress. On the left hand of the King, upon a highspirited

horse, restrained by a bold and skillful hand, shone a lady of the most dazzling beauty. The King smiled upon

"I must know that woman," thought the musketeer; "who can she be?" And he stooped towards his friend the

falconer, to whom he addressed the question he had put to himself. The falconer was about to reply, when the

King, perceiving d'Artagnan said, "Ah, Count! you are returned, then! Why have I not seen you?"

"Sire," replied the captain, "because your Majesty was asleep when I arrived, and not awake when I resumed

"Still the same!" said Louis, in a loud voice, denoting satisfaction. "Take some rest, Count; I command you to

A murmur of admiration surrounded d'Artagnan like an immense caress. Every one was eager to salute him.

Dining with the King was an honor his Majesty was not so prodigal of as Henry IV had been. The King

passed a few steps in advance, and d'Artagnan found himself in the midst of a fresh group, among whom

"Goodday, M. d'Artagnan," said the minister, with affable politeness; "have you had a pleasant journey?"

"I heard the King invite you to his table for this evening," continued the minister; "you will meet an old

"An old friend of mine?" asked d'Artagnan, plunging painfully into the dark waves of the past which had

"I!" said an old man, white as snow, sitting bent in his carriage, which he caused to be thrown open to make

"Aramis!" cried d'Artagnan, struck with stupor. And, inert as he was, he suffered the thin arm of the old

Colbert, after having observed them in silence for a minute, put his horse forward, and left the two old friends

"And so," said the musketeer, taking the arm of Aramis, "you, the exile, the rebel, are again in France?"

"And I shall dine with you at the King's table," said Aramis, smiling. "Yes; will you not ask yourself what is

the use of fidelity in this world? Stop! let us allow poor La Valliere's carriage to pass. See how uneasy she is!

How her eye, dimmed with tears, follows the King, who is riding on horseback yonder!"

"With Mademoiselle de TonnayCharente, now become Madame de Montespan," replied Aramis.

They chatted together while following the sport, and Aramis's coachman drove them so cleverly that they got

up at the moment when the falcon, attacking the bird, beat him down and fell upon him. The King alighted;

Madame de Montespan followed his example. They were in front of an isolated chapel, concealed by large

trees, already despoiled of their leaves by the first winds of autumn. Behind this chapel was an enclosure

entered only by a latticed gate. The falcon had beat down his prey in the enclosure belonging to this little

chapel, and the King was desirous of going in to take the first feather, according to custom. The cortege

formed a circle round the building and the hedges, too small to receive so many.

D'Artagnan held back Aramis by the arm as he was about, like the rest, to alight from his carriage, and in a

broken voice, "Do you know, Aramis," said he, "whither chance has conducted us?"

Aramis, without divining anything, and with a trembling step, penetrated into the chapel by a little door

"There, in the enclosure. There is a cross, you see, under that little cypress. The little cypress is planted over

their tomb. Don't go to it; the King is going that way, the heron has fallen just there."

Aramis stopped, and concealed himself in the shade. They then saw, without being seen, the pale face of La

Valliere, who, neglected in her carriage, had at first looked on with a melancholy heart from the door, and

then, carried away by jealousy, had advanced into the chapel, whence, leaning against a pillar, she

contemplated in the enclosure the King smiling and making signs to Madame de Montespan to approach, as

there was nothing to be afraid of. Madame de Montespan complied; she took the hand the King held out to

her, and he, plucking out the first feather from the heron, which the falconer had strangled, placed it in the hat

of his beautiful companion. She, smiling in her turn, kissed the hand tenderly which made her this present.

The King blushed with pleasure; he looked at Madame de Montespan with all the fire of love. "What will you

She broke off a little branch of cypress and offered it to the King, intoxicated with hope.

"Humph!" said Aramis to d'Artagnan; "the present is but a sad one, for that cypress shades a tomb."

"Yes, and the tomb is that of Raoul de Bragelonne," said d'Artagnan, aloud; "of Raoul, who sleeps under that

A groan was heard behind them. They saw a woman fall fainting to the ground. Mademoiselle de la Valliere

"Poor woman!" muttered d'Artagnan, as he helped the attendants to carry back to her carriage her who from

That evening d'Artagnan was seated at the King's table, near M. Colbert and M. le Duc d'Alameda. The King

was very gay. He paid a thousand little attentions to the Queen, a thousand kindnesses to Madame, seated at

his left hand, and very sad. It might have been supposed to be that calm time when the King used to watch the

Of mistresses there was no question at this dinner. The King addressed Aramis two or three times, calling

him Monsieur the Ambassador, which increased the surprise already felt by d'Artagnan at seeing his friend

The King, on rising from table, gave his hand to the Queen and made a sign to Colbert, whose eye watched

that of his master. Colbert took d'Artagnan and Aramis on one side. The King began to chat with his sister,

while Monsieur, very uneasy, entertained the Queen with a preoccupied air, without ceasing to watch his wife

and brother from the corner of his eye. The conversation between Aramis, d'Artagnan and Colbert turned

upon indifferent subjects. They spoke of preceding ministers; Colbert related the feats of Mazarin, and had

those of Richelieu related to him. D'Artagnan could not overcome his surprise at finding this man, with heavy

eyebrows and a low forehead, contain so much sound knowledge and cheerful humor. Aramis was astonished

at that lightness of character which permitted a serious man to retard with advantage the moment for a more

important conversation, to which nobody made any allusion, although all three interlocutors felt the

It was very plain from the embarrassed appearance of Monsieur how much the conversation of the King and

Madame annoyed him. The eyes of Madame were almost red; was she going to complain? Was she going to

commit a little scandal in open court? The King took her on one side, and in a tone so tender that it must have

reminded the Princess of the time when she was loved for herself, "Sister," said he, "why do I see tears in

She looked towards Monsieur, an infallible sign that they were talking about him. "Yes," said she.

"Listen to me," said the King; "if your friends compromise you, it is not Monsieur's fault."

He spoke these words with so much kindness that Madame, encouraged, she who had had so many griefs

"Come, come, dear sister," said the King, "tell me your griefs. By the word of a brother, I pity them; by the

She raised her fine eyes, and in a melancholy tone, "It is not my friends who compromise me," said she.

"They are either absent or concealed; they have been brought into disgrace with your Majesty, they, so

"You say this on account of De Guiche, whom I have exiled at the desire of Monsieur?"

"And who, since that unjust exile, has endeavored once every day to get himself killed!"

"So unjust, that if I had not had the respect mingled with friendship that I have always entertained for your

"I would have asked him to have it represented to you that Monsieur and his favorite, M. le Chevalier de

Lorraine, ought not with impunity to constitute themselves the executioners of my honor and my happiness."

"He is my mortal enemy. While that man lives in my household, where Monsieur retains him and delegates

"So," said the King, slowly, "you call your brother of England a better friend than I am?"

"You are the grandchild of Henry IV as well as myself, my friend. Cousin and brotherinlaw, does not that

"And now you say that I am wrong in having in your household the Chevalier de Lorraine, who gives

"Remember well what I tell you, Sire: the Chevalier de Lorraine some day Observe, if ever I come to an ill

end, I accuse beforehand the Chevalier de Lorraine; he has a soul capable of any crime!"

"Then that will be a true preliminary of alliance, Sire, I sign; but since you have done your part, tell me what

"Instead of embroiling me with your brother Charles, you must make him my more intimate friend than

"Oh! not quite so much so as you may think, for in ordinary friendship persons embrace or exercise

hospitality, and that only costs a kiss or a return, easy expenses; but in political friendship"

"Yes, my sister; and then, instead of embraces and feasts, it is soldiers it is soldiers all living and well

equipped that we must serve up to our friend; vessels we must offer, all armed with cannons and stored with

provisions. It hence results that we have not always our coffers in a fit state to form such friendships."

"Ah! you are quite right," said Madame; "the coffers of the King of England have been very sonorous for

"But you, my sister, who have so much influence over your brother, you can obtain more than an

"I have thought so," replied the King, eagerly; "and I have said to myself that such a voyage would do your

"Only," interrupted Madame, "it is possible I should fail. The King of England has dangerous counsellors."

"Precisely. If, by chance, your Majesty had any intention I am only supposing so of asking Charles II his

"Yes; well, then the counsellors of the King, who are to the number of seven, Mademoiselle Stewart,

Mademoiselle Wells, Mademoiselle Gwyn, Miss Orchay, Mademoiselle Zunga, Miss Daws, and the

Countess of Castelmaine, will represent to the King that war costs a great deal of money; that it is far better

to give balls and suppers at Hampton Court than to equip vessels of the line at Portsmouth and Greenwich."

"Oh! those ladies cause all negotiations to fail that they don't make themselves."

"It is that by searching well around you, you might perhaps find a female counsellor to take with you to your

"A pretty person is necessary; an agreeable face is better than an ugly one, is it not?"

"Nobility, that is, enough to enable her to approach the King without awkwardness; little enough, so that she

"Mon Dieu! why, some one," cried Madame, "like Mademoiselle de Keroualle, for instance!"

"Oh! why yes!" said Louis XIV; "you have found it is you who have found, my sister."

"Oh, no; I will name her seductrice plenipotentiaire at once, and will add the dowry to the title."

"I fancy you already on your road, my dear little sister, and consoled for all your griefs."

"I will go on two conditions. The first is, that I shall know what I am negotiating about."

"This is it. The Dutch, you know, insult me daily in their gazettes, and by their republican attitude. I don't like

"I see with pain that these kings of the sea they call themselves so keep trade from France in the Indies,

and that their vessels will soon occupy all the ports of Europe. Such a power is too near me, Sister."

"That is why they were wrong in having the medal you have heard of struck, a medal which represents

Holland stopping the sun, as Joshua did, with this legend: The sun has stopped before me. There is not much

"I forget nothing, my sister. And if my true friends, such as your brother Charles, are willing to second me"

The Princess remained pensively silent. "Listen to me; there is the empire of the seas to be shared. In this

partition, which England submits to, could I not represent the second party as well as the Dutch?"

On hearing these words, Louis XIV turned round towards the corner of the room in which d'Artagnan,

Colbert, and Aramis stood, and made an affirmative sign to his minister. Colbert then broke the conversation

at the point where it happened to be, and said to Aramis, "Monsieur the Ambassador, shall we talk about

D'Artagnan immediately withdrew, from politeness. He directed his steps towards the chimney, within

hearing of what the King was going to say to Monsieur, who, evidently uneasy, had gone to him. The face of

the King was animated. Upon his brow was stamped a will, the redoubtable expression of which already met

with no more contradiction in France, and soon would meet with no more in Europe.

"Monsieur," said the King to his brother, "I am not pleased with M. le Chevalier de Lorraine. You, who do

him the honor to protect him, must advise him to travel for a few months." These words fell with the crush of

an avalanche upon Monsieur, who adored this favorite, and concentrated all his affections in him.

"In what has the chevalier been able to displease your Majesty?" cried he, darting a furious look at Madame.

"I will tell you that when he is gone," replied the impassive King. "And also when Madame, here, shall have

"In a week, my brother," continued the King, "while we two will go whither I will tell you." And the King

turned upon his heel after having smiled in his brother's face, to sweeten a little the bitter draught he had

During this time, Colbert was talking with the Duc d'Alameda. "Monsieur," said he to Aramis, "this is the

moment for us to come to an understanding. I have made your peace with the King, and I owed that clearly to

a man of your merit; but as you have often expressed friendship for me, an opportunity presents itself for

giving me a proof of it. You are, besides, more a Frenchman than a Spaniard. Shall we have, answer me

frankly, the neutrality of Spain, if we undertake anything against the United Provinces?"

"Monsieur," replied Aramis, "the interest of Spain is very clear. To embroil Europe with the United

Provinces, against which subsists the ancient rancor arising from their acquisition of liberty, is our policy; but

the King of France is allied with the United Provinces. You are not ignorant, besides, that it would be a

maritime war, and that France is not in a state to make such a one with advantage."

Colbert, turning round at this moment, saw d'Artagnan, who was seeking an interlocutor, during the "aside"

of the King and Monsieur. He called him, at the same time saying in a low voice to Aramis, "We may talk

"We were saying, M. d'Alameda and I," said Colbert, "that war with the United Provinces would be a

"I think that to carry on that maritime war you must have a very large land army."

"Because the King will be beaten by sea if he has not the English with him; and when beaten by sea, he will

be soon invaded, either by the Dutch in his ports, or by the Spaniards by land."

"And Spain neutral?" asked Aramis. "Neutral as long as the King shall be the stronger," rejoined d'Artagnan.

Colbert admired that sagacity which never touched a question without illuminating it thoroughly. Aramis

smiled; he had long known that in diplomacy d'Artagnan acknowledged no master. Colbert, who like all

proud men dwelt upon his fantasy with a certainty of success, resumed the subject, "Who told you, M.

"Oh! I have taken no heed of these details," replied the captain. "I am but a middling sailor. Like all nervous

people, I hate the sea; and yet I have an idea that with ships, France being a seaport with two hundred heads,

Colbert drew from his pocket a little oblong book divided into two columns. On the first were the names of

vessels, on the other the figures recapitulating the number of cannon and men requisite to equip these ships.

"I have had the same idea as you," said he to d'Artagnan; "and I have had an account drawn up of the vessels

"Something like two thousand pieces of cannon," said Colbert. "That is what the King possesses at this

moment. With thirtyfive vessels we can make three squadrons, but I must have five."

"They will be afloat before the end of the year, gentlemen; the King will have fifty ships of the line. With

"To build vessels," said d'Artagnan, "is difficult, but possible. As to arming them, how is that to be done? In

"Bah!" replied Colbert, with a gay tone, "I have instituted all that this year and a half past, did you not know

"He is a man I have discovered; he has a specialty, he knows how to set men to work. It is he who at Toulon

has had the cannon made, and has cut the woods of Bourgogne. And then, Monsieur the Ambassador, you

"Figure to yourself that, calculating upon the character of the Dutch, our allies, I said to myself, 'They are

merchants, they are friends with the King; they will be happy to sell to the King what they fabricate for

themselves. Then the more we buy' Ah! I must add this: I have Forant, do you know Forant, d'Artagnan?"

Colbert, in his warmth, forgot himself; he called the captain simply "D'Artagnan," as the King did. But the

"That is another man I have discovered with a genius for buying. This Forant has purchased for me three

hundred and fifty thousand pounds of iron in balls, two hundred thousand pounds of powder, twelve cargoes

of Northern timber, matches, grenades, pitch, tar, I know not what! with a saving of seven per cent upon

"That is a good idea," replied d'Artagnan, "to have Dutch balls cast which will return to the Dutch."

"Is it not, with loss too?" And Colbert laughed aloud. He was delighted with his own joke. "Still further,"

added he, "these same Dutch are building for the King at this moment six vessels after the model of the best

"He is a man who has a glance singularly sure to discern, when a ship is launched, what are the defects and

qualities of that ship, that is valuable, please to observe! Nature is truly whimsical. Well, this Destouches

appeared to me to be a man likely to be useful in a port, and he is superintending the construction of six

vessels of seventyeight guns, which the Provinces are building for his Majesty. It results from all this, my

dear M. d'Artagnan, that the King, if he wished to quarrel with the Provinces, would have a very pretty fleet.

D'Artagnan and Aramis looked at each other, wondering at the mysterious labors this man had effected in a

few years. Colbert understood them, and was touched by this best of flatteries. "If we in France were ignorant

of what was going on," said d'Artagnan, "out of France still less must be known."

"That is why I told Monsieur the Ambassador," said Colbert, "that Spain promising its neutrality, England

"I take you at your word," hastened Colbert to reply with his blunt bonhomie. "And, a propos of Spain, you

have not the 'Golden Fleece,' M. d'Alameda. I heard the King say the other day that he should like to see you

Aramis bowed. "Oh!" thought d'Artagnan, "and Porthos is no longer here! What ells of ribbon would there be

"M. d'Artagnan," resumed Colbert, "between us two, you will have, I would wager, an inclination to lead

your Musketeers into Holland. Can you swim?" and he laughed like a man in a very good humor.

"Ah! but there are some rough passages of canals and marshes yonder, M. d'Artagnan, and the best swimmers

"It is my profession to die for his Majesty," said the musketeer. "Only as it is seldom that in war much water

is met with without a little fire, I declare to you beforehand that I will do my best to choose fire. I am getting

And d'Artagnan looked so handsome in juvenile vigor and pride as he pronounced these words that Colbert,

in his turn, could not help admiring him. D'Artagnan perceived the effect he had produced. He remembered

that the best tradesman is he who fixes a high price upon his goods when they are valuable. He prepared,

"Only," repeated d'Artagnan, "there is in everything the question of interest and the question of selflove. It is

a very fine title, that of captain of the Musketeers; but observe this: we have now the King's Guards and the

military household of the King. A captain of Musketeers ought either to command all that, and then he would

absorb a hundred thousand livres a year for expenses of representation and table"

"Well; but do you suppose, by chance, that the King would haggle with you?" said Colbert.

"Eh, Monsieur, you have not understood me," replied d'Artagnan, sure of having carried the question of

interest; "I was telling you that I, an old captain, formerly chief of the King's guard, having precedence of

the marshals of France, I saw myself one day in the trenches with two equals, the captain of the Guards and

the colonel commanding the Swiss. Now, at no price will I suffer that. I have old habits; I will stand to them."

Colbert felt this blow, but was prepared for it. "I have been thinking of what you said just now," said he.

"Exactly," said Colbert; "and therefore I never heard of an instance of a marshal of France being drowned."

D'Artagnan became pale with joy, and in not a very firm voice, he said, "People would be very proud of me

in my country, if I were a marshal of France; but a man must have commanded an expedition as chief to

"Monsieur," said Colbert, "here is in this pocketbook, which you will study, a plan of a campaign; you are

to carry it into execution next spring with a body of troops which the King puts under your orders."

D'Artagnan took the book tremblingly and his fingers meeting with those of Colbert, the minister pressed the

hand of the musketeer loyally. "Monsieur," said he, "we had both a revenge to take, one over the other. I have

"I will do you justice, Monsieur," replied d'Artagnan, "and implore you to tell the King that the first

"Then I will have the fleursdelis for your marshal's baton prepared immediately," said Colbert.

On the morrow of this day, Aramis, who was setting out for Madrid to negotiate the neutrality of Spain, came

"And you will perhaps never see me again, dear d'Artagnan," said Aramis; "if you knew how I have loved

"My friend," said d'Artagnan, "you will live longer than I shall. Diplomacy commands you to live; but, for

"Bah! such men as we are, Monsieur the Marshal," said Aramis, "only die satiated with joy or glory."

"Ah!" replied d'Artagnan, with a melancholy smile, "I assure you, Monsieur the Duke, I feel very little

CONTRARY to what generally happens, whether in politics or morals, each kept his promise and did honor

The King recalled M. de Guiche and banished M. le Chevalier de Lorraine, so that Monsieur became ill in

consequence. Madame set out for London, where she applied herself so earnestly to make her brother,

Charles II, have a taste for the political counsels of Mademoiselle de Keroualle, that the alliance between

England and France was signed, and the English vessels, ballasted by a few millions of French gold, made a

terrible campaign against the fleets of the United Provinces. Charles II had promised Mademoiselle de

Keroualle a little gratitude for her good counsels; he made her Duchess of Portsmouth. Colbert had promised

the King vessels, munitions, and victories. He kept this word, as is well known. In fine, Aramis, upon whose

promises there was least dependence to be placed, wrote Colbert the following letter on the subject of the

"MONSIEUR COLBERT: I have the honor to send to you the R. P. d'Oliva, General ad interim of the

Society of Jesus, my provisional successor. The reverend father will explain to you, M. Colbert, that I reserve

to myself the direction of all the affairs of the Order which concern France and Spain; but that I am not

willing to retain the title of general which would throw too much light upon the course of the negotiations

with which his Catholic Majesty wishes to intrust me. I shall resume that title by the command of his Majesty

when the labors I have undertaken in concert with you, for the great glory of God and his Church, shall be

brought to a good end. The R. P. d'Oliva will inform you likewise, Monsieur, of the consent which his

Catholic Majesty gives to the signature of a treaty which assures the neutrality of Spain in the event of a war

between France and the United Provinces. This consent will be valid, even if England, instead of being

active, should satisfy herself with remaining neutral. As to Portugal, of which you and I have spoken,

Monsieur, I can assure you it will contribute with all its resources to assist the most Christian King in his war.

I beg you, M. Colbert, to preserve to me your friendship, as also to believe in my profound attachment, and to

Aramis had then performed more than he had promised; it remained to be known how the King, M. Colbert,

and d'Artagnan would be faithful to one another. In the spring, as Colbert had predicted, the land army

entered on its campaign. It preceded, in magnificent order, the court of Louis XIV, who, setting out on

horseback, surrounded by carriages filled with ladies and courtiers, conducted the elite of his kingdom to this

sanguinary fete. The officers of the army, it is true, had no other music than the artillery of the Dutch forts;

but it was enough for a great number, who found in this war honors, advancement, fortune, or death.

M. d'Artagnan set out commanding a body of twelve thousand men, cavalry and infantry, with which he was

ordered to take the different places which form the knots of that strategic network which is called La Frise.

Never was an army conducted more gallantly to an expedition. The officers knew that their leader, prudent

and skillful as he was brave, would not sacrifice a single man, nor yield an inch of ground, without necessity.

He had the old habits of war, to live upon the country, keep his soldiers singing and the enemy weeping.

The captain of the King's Musketeers put his effort into showing that he knew his business. Never were

opportunities better chosen, coups de main better supported, or better advantage taken of errors on the part of

The army commanded by d'Artagnan took twelve small places within a month. He was engaged in besieging

the thirteenth, which had held out five days. D'Artagnan caused the trenches to be opened without appearing

to suppose that these people would ever allow themselves to be taken. In the army of this man the pioneers

and laborers were a body full of emulation, ideas, and zeal, because he treated them like soldiers, knew how

to render their work glorious, and never allowed them to be killed if he could prevent it. It should have been

seen then with what eagerness the marshy glebes of Holland were turned over. Those turf heaps, those

mounds of potter's clay, melted at the words of the soldiers like butter in the vast fryingpans of the Friesland

M. d'Artagnan despatched a courier to the King to give him an account of the last successes, which redoubled

the goodhumor of his Majesty and his inclination to amuse the ladies. These victories of M. d'Artagnan gave

so much majesty to the Prince that Madame de Montespan no longer called him anything but Louis the

Invincible. So that Mademoiselle de la Valliere, who only called the King Louis the Victorious, lost much of

his Majesty's favor. Besides, her eyes were frequently red, and for an Invincible nothing is more disagreeable

than a mistress who weeps while everything is smiling around her. The star of Mademoiselle de la Valliere

was being drowned in the horizon in clouds and tears. But the gayety of Madame de Montespan redoubled

with the successes of the King, and consoled him for every other unpleasant circumstance. It was to

d'Artagnan the King owed this; and his Majesty was anxious to acknowledge these services. He wrote to M.

"M. COLBERT: We have a promise to fulfill with M. d'Artagnan, who so well keeps his. This is to inform

you that the time is come for performing it. All provisions for this purpose you shall be furnished with in due

In consequence of this, Colbert, who detained the envoy of d'Artagnan, placed in the hands of that messenger

a letter from himself for d'Artagnan and a small coffer of ebony inlaid with gold, which, without doubt, was

very heavy, as a guard of five men was given to the messenger to assist him in carrying it. These persons

arrived before the place which d'Artagnan was besieging, towards daybreak, and presented themselves at the

lodgings of the general. They were told that M. d'Artagnan, annoyed by a sortie which the governor, an artful

man, had made the evening before, and in which the works had been destroyed, seventyseven men killed,

and the reparation of the breaches begun, had just gone with ten companies of grenadiers to reconstruct the

M. Colbert's envoy had orders to go and seek M. d'Artagnan wherever he might be, or at whatever hour of the

day or night. He directed his course, therefore, towards the trenches, followed by his escort, all on horseback.

They perceived M. d'Artagnan in the open plain, with his goldlaced hat, his long cane, and his large gilded

cuffs. He was biting his white mustache, and shaking off with his left hand the dust which the passing balls

threw up from the ground they ploughed near him. They also saw, amid this terrible fire which filled the air

with its hissing whistle, officers handling the shovel, soldiers rolling barrows, and vast fascines, carried or

dragged by from ten to twenty men, covering the front of the trench, reopened to the centre by this

extraordinary effort of the general animating his soldiers. In three hours all had been reinstated. D'Artagnan

began to speak more mildly; and he became quite calm when the captain of the pioneers approached him, hat

in hand, to tell him that the trench was again in condition for occupancy. This man had scarcely finished

speaking when a ball took off one of his legs, and he fell into the arms of d'Artagnan. The latter lifted up his

soldier, and quietly, with soothing words, carried him into the trench amid the enthusiastic applause of the

regiments. From that time it was no longer ardor; it was delirium. Two companies stole away up to the

When their comrades, restrained with great difficulty by d'Artagnan, saw them lodged upon the bastions, they

rushed forward likewise, and soon a furious assault was made upon the counterscarp, upon which depended

the safety of the place. D'Artagnan perceived there was only one means left of stopping his army, and that

was to lodge it in the place. He directed all his force to two breaches, which the besieged were busy in

repairing. The shock was terrible; eighteen companies took part in it, and d'Artagnan went with the rest

within halfcannon shot of the place, to support the attack by echelons. The cries of the Dutch, who were

being poniarded upon their guns by d'Artagnan's grenadiers, were distinctly audible. The struggle grew

fiercer with the despair of the governor, who disputed his position foot by foot. D'Artagnan, to put an end to

the affair and silence the fire, which was unceasing, sent a fresh column, which penetrated like a wimble

through the gates that remained solid; and he soon perceived upon the ramparts, through the fire, the terrified

It was at this moment that the general, breathing freely and full of joy, heard a voice behind him saying,

"M. D'ARTAGNAN: The King commands me to inform you that he has nominated you Marshal of France,

as a reward for your good services and the honor you do to his arms. The King is highly pleased, Monsieur,

with the captures you have made; he commands you in particular to finish the siege you have begun, with

D'Artagnan was standing with a heated countenance and a sparkling eye. He looked up to watch the progress

of his troops upon the walls, still enveloped in red and black volumes of smoke. "I have finished," replied he

to the messenger; "the city will have surrendered in a quarter of an hour." He then resumed his reading:

"The coffer, M. d'Artagnan, is my own present. You will not be sorry to see that while you warriors are

drawing the sword to defend the King, I am animating the pacific arts to adorn you with rewards that are

worthy of you. I commend myself to your friendship, Monsieur the Marshal, and beg you to believe in all

D'Artagnan, intoxicated with joy, made a sign to the messenger, who approached with his coffer in his hands.

But at the moment the marshal was going to look at it, a loud explosion resounded from the ramparts and

called his attention towards the city. "It is strange," said d'Artagnan, "that I don't yet see the King's flag upon

the walls, or hear the drums beat for a parley." He launched three hundred fresh men under a highspirited

officer, and ordered another breach to be beaten. Then, being more tranquil, he turned towards the coffer

D'Artagnan was holding out his hand to open the coffer, when a ball from the city crushed it in the arms of

the officer, struck d'Artagnan full in the chest, and knocked him down upon a sloping heap of earth, while the

fleurdelise baton, escaping from the broken sides of the box, came rolling under the powerless hand of the

marshal. D'Artagnan endeavored to raise himself. It was thought he had been knocked down without being

wounded. A terrible cry broke from the group of his frightened officers. The marshal was covered with blood;

the paleness of death ascended slowly to his noble countenance. Leaning upon the arms which were held out

on all sides to receive him, he was able once more to turn his eyes towards the place, and to distinguish the

white flag at the crest of the principal bastion; his ears, already deaf to the sounds of life, caught feebly the

rolling of the drum which announced the victory. Then, clasping in his nerveless hand the baton, ornamented

with its fleursdelis, he cast down upon it his eyes, which had no longer the power of looking upwards

towards heaven, and fell back murmuring these strange words, which appeared to the surprised soldiers

cabalistic words, words which had formerly represented so many things upon earth, and which none but the

Of the four valiant men who history we have related, there now remained but one single body; God had taken