Part 3

— Pray tell it to me, dear friend, I shall listen with pleasure.

And he showed d'Artagnan a large armchair, into which the latter stretched himself at his ease.

— I care about it, you see, d'Artagnan continued, since the conversation is rather curious.

— I am listening.

— Well! First of all, the king had me summoned.

— After my departure?

— You were descending the last steps of the staircase, as the musketeers told me. I arrived. My friend, he was not red, he was purple. I still knew nothing of what had happened. Only, on the floor, upon the parquet, I saw a sword broken in two pieces.

— Captain d'Artagnan! cried the king on catching sight of me.

— Sire, I answered.

— I am leaving M. de La Fère, who is an insolent fellow!

— An insolent fellow? I cried with such an accent that the king stopped short.

— Captain d'Artagnan, the king resumed, his teeth clenched, you are going to listen to me and obey me.

— It is my duty, Sire.

— I wished to spare that gentleman, for whom I retain some kindly memories, the disgrace of not being arrested in my own house.

— Ah! ah! I said quietly.

— But, he continued, you are going to take a carriage...

I made a movement.

— If it repugns you to arrest him yourself, the king went on, send me my captain of the guards.

— Sire, I replied, there is no need of the captain of the guards, since I am on duty.

— I should not wish to displease you, said the king kindly; for you have always served me well, M. d'Artagnan.

— You do not displease me, Sire, I answered. I am on duty, that is all.

— But, said the king in astonishment, it seems to me the count is your friend?

— He might be my father, Sire, and I should still be no less on duty.

The king looked at me; he saw my impassive face and seemed satisfied.

— You will therefore arrest M. the count of La Fère? he asked.

— Undoubtedly, Sire, if you give me the order.

— Well! the order, I give it to you.

I bowed.

— Where is the count, Sire?

— You will seek him.

— And I shall arrest him wherever he may be, then?

— Yes... however, try to have it be in his own house. If he were to return to his estates, leave Paris and take him on the road.

I saluted; and, as I remained standing:

— Well? asked the king.

— I am waiting, Sire?

— What are you waiting for?

— For the signed order.

The king seemed annoyed.

Indeed, it was a fresh exertion of authority, it was repairing the arbitrary act, if arbitrary it was.

He took the pen slowly and in ill humor, then wrote:

"Order to M. the chevalier d'Artagnan, captain-lieutenant of my musketeers, to arrest M. the count of La Fère wherever he may be found."

Then he turned toward me.

I waited without flinching. No doubt he believed he saw a bravado in my calm, for he signed briskly; then, handing me the order:

— Go! he cried.

I obeyed, and here I am.

Athos pressed his friend's hand.

— Let us go, he said.

— Oh! said d'Artagnan, you have surely a few little matters to settle before leaving your lodgings like this?

— I? Not at all.

— How so!...

— Good heavens, no. You know, d'Artagnan, I have always been a simple traveler upon the earth, ready to go to the ends of the world at the order of my king, ready to quit this world for the next at the order of my God. What does a forewarned man need? A portmanteau or a coffin. I am ready today as always, dear friend. So take me away.

— But Bragelonne?...

— I brought him up in the principles I had made for myself, and you see that, on catching sight of you, he guessed at once the cause that brought you. We threw him off the scent for a moment; but, be easy, he expects my disgrace enough not to be overly alarmed. Let us go.

— Let us go, d'Artagnan said quietly.

— My friend, said the count, as I broke my sword in the king's presence, and threw the pieces at his feet, I believe that dispenses me from handing it to you.

— You are right; and, besides, what the devil would you have me do with your sword?

— Does one walk before you or behind you?

— One walks on my arm, replied d'Artagnan.

And he took the count of La Fère's arm to descend the staircase.

They thus arrived at the landing.

Grimaud, whom they had met in the antechamber, watched this departure with a worried air. He knew life too well not to suspect there was something hidden beneath it all.

— Ah! It is you, my good Grimaud? said Athos. We are going...

— For a turn in my carriage, d'Artagnan interrupted with a friendly toss of the head.

Grimaud thanked d'Artagnan with a grimace that visibly intended to be a smile, and he accompanied the two friends to the carriage door. Athos got in first; d'Artagnan followed without having said a word to the coachman. This departure, perfectly simple and without other demonstration, caused no sensation in the neighborhood. When the carriage had reached the quays:

— You are taking me to the Bastille, as I see? said Athos.

— I? said d'Artagnan. I am taking you wherever you wish to go, nowhere else.

— How so? said the count in surprise.

— Pardieu! said d'Artagnan, you understand well, my dear count, that I took on the errand only so that you might do with it as you pleased. You do not expect me to have you locked up like that, brutally, without reflection. If I had not foreseen this, I should have let the captain of the guards do it.

— So?... asked Athos.

— So, I repeat to you, we are going wherever you wish.

— Dear friend, said Athos, embracing d'Artagnan, I recognize you well there.

— Why! it seems to me it is perfectly simple. The coachman will take you to the barrier of the Cours-la-Reine; there you will find a horse I have ordered held ready, with that horse you will do three posts at a stretch, and, as for me, I shall take care not to return to the king, to tell him you have gone, until the moment when it will be impossible to reach you. In the meantime, you will have gained Le Havre, and, from Le Havre, England, where you will find the pretty house my friend M. Monck gave me, not to mention the hospitality King Charles will not fail to offer you... Well! what do you say to that plan?

— Take me to the Bastille, said Athos with a smile.

— Stubborn head! said d'Artagnan; do think it over.

— What?

— That you are no longer twenty years old. Believe me, my friend, I speak from myself. A prison is deadly to men of our age. No, no, I shall not suffer you to languish in prison. Merely thinking of it turns my head!

— Friend, answered Athos, God has made me, happily, as strong of body as of mind. Believe me, I shall be strong to my last breath.

— But it is not a question of strength, my dear, it is folly.

— No, d'Artagnan, it is a supreme reason. Do not believe I discuss in the least with you the question of whether you would ruin yourself in saving me. I should have done what you do, had flight suited my convenience. I should therefore have accepted from you what, without doubt, in like circumstance, you would have accepted from me. No! I know you too well even to brush against that subject.

— Ah! if you would let me act, said d'Artagnan, how I should send the king running after you!

— He is the king, dear friend.

— Oh! that is all the same to me; and, king though he is, I should answer him perfectly: "Sire, imprison, exile, kill all in France and in Europe; order me to arrest and stab whom you will, were it Monsieur, your brother; but never touch one of the four musketeers, or else, morbleu!..."

— Dear friend, answered Athos calmly, I should like to persuade you of one thing, which is that I desire to be arrested, which is that I care above all for an arrest.

D'Artagnan gave a shrug of the shoulders.

— What would you have! Athos continued, it is thus: were you to let me go, I should return of my own accord to give myself up as prisoner. I wish to prove to that young man that the splendor of his crown dazzles, I wish to prove to him that he is first among men only on condition of being the most generous and the wisest. He punishes me, he imprisons me, he tortures me, so be it. He abuses, and I wish to make him know what remorse is, awaiting the time when God shall teach him what punishment is.

— My friend, answered d'Artagnan, I know too well that, when you have said no, it is no. I insist no further; you wish to go to the Bastille?

— I wish it.

— Let us go there!... To the Bastille! d'Artagnan continued, addressing the coachman.

And, throwing himself back into the carriage, he chewed his mustache with a ferocity which, for Athos, signified a resolution taken or in the making.

Silence fell in the carriage, which continued to roll, but no faster, no slower. Athos took the musketeer's hand again.

— You are not angry with me, d'Artagnan? said he.

— I? Eh! pardieu! no. What you do from heroism, I should have done from stubbornness.

— But you do agree that God will avenge me, do you not, d'Artagnan?

— And I know upon earth men who will help God, said the captain.

Chapter CCII — Three Guests Astonished to Sup Together

The carriage had arrived before the first gate of the Bastille. A sentry stopped it, and d'Artagnan had but a word to say for the order to be lifted. The carriage therefore entered.

While they followed the great covered way leading to the Governor's court, d'Artagnan, whose lynx eye saw everything, even through walls, suddenly cried:

— Eh! what do I see?

— Good! said Athos quietly, whom do you see, my friend?

— Look there, yonder!

— In the court?

— Yes; quick, make haste.

— Well! a carriage.

— Good!

— Some poor prisoner like myself being brought in.

— That would be too funny!

— I do not understand you.

— Make haste to look again, to see him who is going to get out of that carriage.

Just then a second sentry had stopped d'Artagnan. The formalities were being gone through. Athos could see a hundred paces off the man his friend had pointed out.

That man, in fact, got down from his carriage at the very door of the Governor's house.

— Well! asked d'Artagnan, do you see him?

— Yes; it is a man in a gray habit.

— What say you to that?

— I hardly know; it is, as I told you, a man in a gray habit getting down from a carriage: that is all.

— Athos, I would wager it is he.

— Who, he?

— Aramis.

— Aramis arrested? Impossible!

— I do not say he is arrested, since we see him alone in his carriage.

— Then what is he doing here?

— Oh! he knows Baisemeaux, the governor, replied the musketeer in a sly tone. My faith! we arrive in time!

— For what?

— To see.

— I much regret this meeting; Aramis, on seeing me, will be annoyed, first at seeing me, then at being seen.

— Well reasoned.

— Unfortunately, there is no remedy when one meets someone in the Bastille; were one to draw back to avoid him, it is impossible.

— I tell you, Athos, I have my idea; it is a question of sparing Aramis the annoyance you spoke of.

— How to do it?

— As I shall tell you, or, to explain myself better, leave me to tell the thing in my own way; I shall not recommend you to lie, that would be impossible for you.

— Well! then?

— Well! I shall lie for two; it is so easy with the nature and habit of a Gascon!

Athos smiled. The carriage stopped where that we have just pointed out had stopped, on the very threshold of the Governor's house.

— Is it understood? d'Artagnan said low to his friend.

Athos consented by a gesture. They mounted the staircase. If one is astonished at the ease with which they had entered the Bastille, one will remember that, on entering, that is to say at the hardest part, d'Artagnan had announced he was bringing a state prisoner.

At the third door, on the contrary, that is to say once well inside, he merely said to the sentry:

— To M. de Baisemeaux.

And both passed. They were soon in the governor's dining room, where the first face that struck d'Artagnan's eyes was that of Aramis, who was seated side by side with Baisemeaux, and awaiting the arrival of a good meal, whose smell was steaming through the whole apartment.

If d'Artagnan played surprise, Aramis did not play it; he started on seeing his two friends, and his emotion was visible.

However, Athos and d'Artagnan paid their compliments, and Baisemeaux, astonished, dumbfounded at the presence of these three guests, began a thousand evolutions around them.

— Ah there! said Aramis, by what chance?...

— We ask you, retorted d'Artagnan.

— Are we all giving ourselves up as prisoners? cried Aramis with an affectation of hilarity.

— Eh! eh! said d'Artagnan, it is true the walls smell devilishly of prison. M. de Baisemeaux, you know you invited me to dine the other day?

— I? cried Baisemeaux?

— Ah there! one would say you are falling from the clouds. You do not remember?

Baisemeaux paled, reddened, looked at Aramis who looked at him, and ended by stammering:

— Certainly... I am delighted... but... upon my honor... I do not... Ah! wretched memory!

— Eh! but I am wrong, said d'Artagnan like a man vexed.

— Wrong, about what?

— Wrong to remember, it appears.

Baisemeaux threw himself toward him.

— Do not take offense, dear captain, said he; I am the poorest head in the kingdom. Get me out of my pigeons and their dovecote, I am not worth a six-weeks soldier.

— Well, now you remember, said d'Artagnan with assurance.

— Yes, yes, replied the hesitating governor, I remember.

— It was at the king's; you were telling me I know not what stories about your accounts with MM. Louvières and Tremblay.

— Ah! yes, perfectly!

— And about the kindnesses of M. d'Herblay toward you.

— Ah! cried Aramis, rolling up the whites of his eyes at the unhappy governor, you said you had no memory, M. Baisemeaux!

The latter cut the musketeer short.

— How now! that is it; you are right. It seems to me I am there yet. A thousand million pardons! But, note this well, dear M. d'Artagnan, at this hour as at others, asked or not asked, you are master in my house, you and M. d'Herblay, your friend, said he, turning toward Aramis, and Monsieur, added he, saluting Athos.

— I had thought of all that, answered d'Artagnan. This is why I came: having nothing to do this evening at the Palais-Royal, I wished to try your ordinary fare, when, on the road, I met the count.

Athos bowed.

— The count, who was leaving His Majesty, gave me an order requiring prompt execution. We were near here; I wished to go on, were it only to shake your hand and present to you Monsieur, of whom you spoke so advantageously to me at the king's, that same evening when...

— Very well! very well! M. the count of La Fère, is it not?

— Exactly.

— M. the count is welcome.

— And he will dine with you two, will he not? while I, poor limier, go running on my service. Happy mortals that you are! he added, sighing as Porthos might have done.

— So, you are leaving? said Aramis and Baisemeaux, united in a same sentiment of joyful surprise.

The nuance was seized by d'Artagnan.

— I leave you in my place, said he, a noble and good guest. And he lightly tapped Athos on the shoulder, who, he too, was astonished and could not help showing it a little; a nuance which was seized by Aramis alone, M. de Baisemeaux not being of the caliber of the three friends.

— What! we lose you? resumed the good governor.

— I ask you an hour or an hour and a half. I shall return for dessert.

— Oh! we shall wait for you, said Baisemeaux.

— That would be to disoblige me.

— You will return? said Athos with a doubtful air.

— Assuredly, said he, pressing his hand confidentially.

And he added lower:

— Wait for me, Athos; be cheerful, and above all speak no business, for the love of God!

A fresh pressure of the hand confirmed the count in the obligation to keep discreet and impenetrable. Baisemeaux accompanied d'Artagnan to the door.

Aramis, with many caresses, seized upon Athos, resolved to make him talk; but Athos had all the virtues in the supreme degree. When necessity required, he would have been the first orator in the world, if need were; he would have died before uttering a syllable, in the circumstance.

These three gentlemen therefore placed themselves, ten minutes after d'Artagnan's departure, before a good table furnished with the most substantial gastronomic luxury.

The large pieces, the preserves, the most varied wines, appeared successively upon that table served at the king's expense, and upon the outlay of which M. Colbert would easily have found two thirds to economize, without making anyone at the Bastille grow thin.

Baisemeaux was the only one who ate and drank resolutely. Aramis refused nothing and touched everything; Athos, after the soup and the three hors-d'œuvre, touched nothing more.

The conversation was what it had to be among three men so opposed in humor and designs.

Aramis never ceased asking himself by what singular encounter Athos found himself at Baisemeaux's when d'Artagnan was no longer there, and why d'Artagnan was no longer there when Athos had remained. Athos sounded the whole depth of that mind of Aramis, which lived on subterfuges and intrigues; he looked well at his man and scented him occupied with some important project. Then he concentrated himself, he too, in his own interests, asking himself why d'Artagnan had left the Bastille so strangely fast, leaving there a prisoner so ill introduced and so ill registered.

But it is not upon these personages that we shall fix our examination. We abandon them to themselves, before the debris of the capons, partridges, and fish mutilated by the generous knife of Baisemeaux.

He whom we shall pursue is d'Artagnan, who, remounting in the carriage that had brought him, cried in the coachman's ear:

— To the king's, and let us burn the pavement!

Chapter CCIII — What Was Passing at the Louvre During the Bastille Supper

M. de Saint-Aignan had done his errand with La Vallière, as we have seen in one of the preceding chapters; but, whatever his eloquence, he persuaded not the young girl that she had a protector considerable enough in the king, and that she needed no one in the world when the king was for her.

Indeed, at the first word the confidant pronounced of the discovery of the famous secret, Louise, in tears, uttered loud cries and abandoned herself wholly to a grief which the king would not have found obliging, had he been able to witness it from a corner of the apartment. De Saint-Aignan, as ambassador, took offense as his master might have done, and returned to the king to report what he had seen and heard. It is there we find him again, much agitated, in the presence of Louis, still more agitated.

— But, said the king to his courtier, when the latter had finished his narration, what did she conclude? Shall I at least see her presently before supper? Will she come, or must I go to her?

— I believe, Sire, that, if Your Majesty desires to see her, the king must make not only the first steps, but the whole way.

— Nothing for me! This Bragelonne then holds her heart so well? murmured Louis XIV between his teeth.

— Oh! Sire, that is impossible, for it is you Mlle de La Vallière loves, and that with all her heart. But, you know, M. de Bragelonne belongs to that severe race which plays the Roman heroes.

The king smiled faintly. He knew what to think. Athos was leaving him.

— As for Mlle de La Vallière, de Saint-Aignan continued, she was brought up with the Dowager Madame, that is to say in retirement and austerity. Those two betrothed coldly made little vows to each other before the moon and stars, and, you see, Sire, today, to break that is the devil!

De Saint-Aignan thought to make the king laugh again; but quite on the contrary, from the simple smile Louis passed to complete seriousness. He was already feeling what the count had promised d'Artagnan to give him: remorse. He reflected that indeed those two young people had loved each other and sworn alliance; that one of the two had kept his word, and that the other was too honest not to moan at having perjured himself.

And, with remorse, jealousy sharply goaded the king's heart. He uttered not another word, and, instead of going to his mother's, or the queen's, or Madame's to amuse himself a little and make the ladies laugh, as he himself put it, he plunged into the vast armchair where Louis XIII, his august father, had been so bored with Baradas and Cinq-Mars during so many days and years.

De Saint-Aignan understood that the king was not to be amused at that moment. He ventured the last resource and pronounced the name of Louise. The king lifted his head.

— What will Your Majesty do this evening? Must Mlle de La Vallière be warned?

— Why! it seems to me she is warned, answered the king.

— Shall we walk?

— One is just back from walking, replied the king.

— Well! Sire?

— Well! let us dream, de Saint-Aignan, let us each dream on his own side; when Mlle de La Vallière has well regretted what she regrets—remorse was doing its work—well! then, will she deign to give us news of herself!

— Ah! Sire, can you thus misknow that devoted heart?

The king rose, red with spite; jealousy bit in its turn. De Saint-Aignan began to find the position difficult, when the curtain lifted. The king made a brusque movement; his first thought was that a note from La Vallière was coming to him; but, in place of a messenger of love, he saw only his captain of musketeers standing and mute in the embrasure.

— M. d'Artagnan! said he. Ah!... Well?

D'Artagnan looked at de Saint-Aignan. The king's eyes took the same direction as his captain's. Those glances would have been clear to all the world; all the more so were they for de Saint-Aignan. The courtier bowed and withdrew. The king and d'Artagnan found themselves alone.

— Is it done? asked the king.

— Yes, Sire, answered the captain of musketeers in a grave voice, it is done.

The king found not another word to say. However, pride commanded him not to leave it there. When a king has taken a decision, even an unjust one, he must prove to all those who saw him take it, and above all he must prove to himself that he was right in taking it. There is a means for that, an almost infallible means, which is to seek faults in the victim.

Louis, educated by Mazarin and Anne of Austria, knew, better than any prince ever knew, his trade of king. Also he tried to prove it on this occasion. After a moment of silence, during which he had made under his breath the reflections we have just made aloud:

— What did the count say? he resumed negligently.

— Why, nothing, Sire.

— Yet he did not let himself be arrested without a word?

— He said he expected to be arrested, Sire.

The king lifted his head with pride.

— I presume M. the count of La Fère did not continue his role of rebel? said he.

“Stories of the world, in your language.”