Part 45

— There, in the enclosure. There is a cross, you see, beneath that little cypress. The little cypress is planted on their grave; do not go there; the king is going there at this moment, the heron has fallen there.

Aramis stopped and hid in the shadow. Then, unseen, they saw the pale face of La Vallière, who, forgotten in her carriage, had first looked melancholically out of her door; then, carried away by jealousy, had advanced into the chapel, where, leaning on a pillar, she contemplated the king smiling in the enclosure, who was motioning to Mme de Montespan to come nearer and not to be afraid.

Mme de Montespan drew near; she took the hand the king offered her, and he, plucking the first feather from the heron the falcon had just strangled, attached it to the hat of his fair companion.

She, then, smiling in her turn, tenderly kissed the hand that gave her this gift.

The king blushed with pleasure; he looked at Mme de Montespan with the fire of desire and love.

— What will you give me in exchange? said he.

She broke off one of the plumes of the cypress and offered it to the king, intoxicated with hope.

— But, said Aramis in a low voice to d'Artagnan, the gift is sad, for this cypress shades a grave.

— Yes, and that grave is that of Raoul de Bragelonne, said d'Artagnan aloud; of Raoul, who sleeps beneath this cross beside Athos his father.

A groan sounded behind them. They saw a woman fall fainting. Mlle de La Vallière had seen all, and she had just heard all.

— Poor woman! murmured d'Artagnan, who helped his women to lay her in her carriage, henceforth hers to suffer.

That evening, indeed, d'Artagnan sat at the king's table beside M. Colbert and M. the Duke of Alameda.

The king was gay. He paid a thousand courtesies to the queen, a thousand tendernesses to Madame, seated at his left and very sad. One would have thought oneself in calm times, when the king watched in his mother's eyes the avowal or disavowal of what he had just said.

Of a mistress, at this dinner, there was no question. The king addressed Aramis two or three times, calling him M. the ambassador, which increased the surprise d'Artagnan already felt at seeing his friend the rebel so marvelously well at court.

The king, on rising from table, offered his hand to the queen, and made a sign to Colbert, whose eye watched that of the master.

Colbert took d'Artagnan and Aramis aside. The king began to talk with his sister, while Monsieur, uneasy, entertained the queen with a preoccupied air, without taking his eyes from his wife and brother from the corner of his eye.

The conversation between Aramis, d'Artagnan and Colbert turned on indifferent subjects. They spoke of the former ministers; Colbert told of Mazarin and had Richelieu told to him.

D'Artagnan could not get over seeing this man with the thick eyebrow and low forehead contain so much good sense and cheerful humor. Aramis wondered at that lightness of spirit which allowed a grave man advantageously to delay the moment of a more serious conversation, to which no one alluded, though the three interlocutors felt its imminence.

One could see, from Monsieur's embarrassed looks, how much the conversation of the king and Madame embarrassed him. Madame had almost red eyes; was she going to complain? was she going to make a little scene in full court?

The king took her aside, and, in so soft a tone, that it must have recalled to the princess those days when she was loved for herself:

— My sister, said he to her, why have these beautiful eyes wept?

— But, Sire... said she.

— Monsieur is jealous, is he not, my sister?

She looked toward Monsieur, an infallible sign which warned the prince that he was being spoken of.

— Yes... said she.

— Listen to me, resumed the king; if your friends compromise you, it is not Monsieur's fault.

He said these words with such gentleness, that Madame, encouraged—she who had had so many sorrows for so long—wellnigh burst into tears, so broken was her heart.

— Come, come, dear sister, said the king, tell us of these griefs; on a brother's faith! I sympathize with them; on a king's faith! I shall put an end to them.

She raised her beautiful eyes; and, with melancholy:

It is not my friends who compromise me, said she; they are absent or hidden; they have been made to fall into disgrace with Your Majesty, they so devoted, so good, so loyal.

— You tell me this for Guiche, whom I had exiled at Monsieur's request?

— And who, since that unjust exile, seeks to get himself killed once a day!

— Unjust, do you say, my sister?

— So unjust, that if I had not had for Your Majesty the respect mingled with friendship that I have always had...

— Well?

— Well! I should have asked my brother Charles, over whom I have everything...

The king started.

— What then?

— I should have asked him to have it represented to you that Monsieur and his favorite, M. the Chevalier de Lorraine, must not with impunity make themselves the executioners of my honor and my happiness.

— The Chevalier de Lorraine, said the king, that gloomy figure?

— Is my mortal enemy. So long as that man lives in my household, where Monsieur keeps him and gives him all power, I shall be the last woman of this kingdom.

— Thus, said the king slowly, you call your brother of England a better friend than me?

— The deeds are there, Sire.

— And you would rather go ask help of...

— Of my country! said she with pride; yes, Sire.

The king answered her:

— You are a granddaughter of Henri IV as I am, my friend. Cousin and brother-in-law, does that not make fair coin of the title of true brother?

— Then, said Henriette, act.

— Let us make alliance.

— Begin.

— I have, you say, unjustly exiled Guiche?

— Oh! yes, said she, blushing.

— Guiche shall return.

— Good.

— And now, you say I am wrong to leave in your household the Chevalier de Lorraine, who gives you bad counsel with Monsieur?

— Mark well what I tell you, Sire; the Chevalier de Lorraine, one day... See here, if ever I come to a bad end, remember that beforehand I accuse the Chevalier de Lorraine... he is a soul capable of all crimes!

— The Chevalier de Lorraine shall trouble you no more, that I promise you.

— Then that will be a true preliminary of alliance, Sire; I sign it... But, since you have done your part, tell me what mine shall be?

— Instead of setting me at odds with your brother Charles, you should make him a more intimate friend than ever.

— That is easy.

— Oh! not as much as you think; for, in ordinary friendship, one embraces, one feasts, and that costs only a kiss or a reception, easy expenses; but in political friendship...

— Ah! it is a political friendship?

— Yes, my sister, and then, instead of embraces and feasts, it is soldiers one must serve up alive and equipped to one's friend; ships one must offer him fully armed with cannon and provisions. The result is that one does not always have one's coffers ready to make such friendships.

— Ah! you are right, said Madame... the coffers of the King of England have been somewhat sonorous of late.

— But you, my sister, you who have such influence over your brother, you will perhaps obtain what an ambassador will never obtain.

— For that I must go to London, my dear brother.

— I had thought of that, replied the king quickly, and I had said to myself that such a journey would give you a little distraction.

— Only, interrupted Madame, it is possible that I may fail. The King of England has dangerous counselors.

— Counselors, do you mean?

— Precisely. If, by chance, Your Majesty had the intention—I only suppose—of asking Charles II his alliance for a war...

— For a war?

— Yes. Well! then, the king's counselors, who are seven in number, Mlle Stewart, Mlle Wells, Mlle Gwyn, Miss Orchay, Mlle Zunga, Miss Daws and the Countess of Castelmaine, will represent to the king that war costs much money; that it is better to give balls and suppers in Hampton Court than to equip ships of the line at Portsmouth and Greenwich.

— And then, your negotiation will fail?

— Oh! those ladies cause to fail all negotiations that they do not conduct themselves.

— Do you know the idea I had, my sister?

— No. Speak.

— It is that, in looking well around you, you might perhaps have found a counselor to take to the king, whose eloquence would have paralyzed the ill will of the other seven.

— That is indeed an idea, Sire, and I am looking.

— You will find.

— I hope so.

— It would need a pretty person: better a pleasing face than a deformed one, is it not?

— Assuredly.

— A quick, playful, bold mind?

— Certainly.

— Of nobility... as much as is needed to approach the king without awkwardness. Little enough not to be embarrassed by the dignity of her race.

— Very just.

— And... who knew a little English.

— Good heavens! but someone, cried Madame quickly, such as Mlle de Kéroualle, for example.

— Eh! but yes, said Louis XIV, you have found... it is you who have found, my sister.

— I will take her. She will have no cause to complain, I suppose.

— But no, I name her plenipotentiary seductress first, and I shall add dowries to the title.

— Good.

— I already see you on the road, dear little sister, and consoled of all your griefs.

— I shall depart on two conditions. The first, that I shall know on what to negotiate.

— Here it is. The Dutch, you know, insult me each day in their gazettes and by their republican attitude. I do not like republics.

— That is understandable, Sire.

— I see with regret that these kings of the sea—they so call themselves—hold the commerce of France in the Indies, and that their ships will soon occupy all the ports of Europe; such a force is too near me, my sister.

— They are your allies, however?

— That is why they were wrong to have struck that medal you know of, which represents Holland stopping the sun, like Joshua, with this legend: _The sun stopped before me_. It is scarcely brotherly, is it not?

— I thought you had forgotten that pettiness?

— I never forget anything, my sister. And if my true friends, such as your brother Charles, will second me...

The princess remained thoughtful.

— Listen: there is the empire of the seas to be shared, said Louis XIV. For that sharing which England was undergoing, shall I not represent the second share as well as the Dutch?

— We have Mlle de Kéroualle to treat that question, replied Madame.

— Your second condition, if you please, to depart, my sister?

— The consent of Monsieur, my husband.

— You shall have it.

— Then, I am gone, my brother.

In hearing these words, Louis XIV turned toward the corner of the hall where were Colbert and Aramis with d'Artagnan, and he made an affirmative sign with his minister.

Colbert then broke off the conversation where it was and said to Aramis:

— M. the ambassador, will you that we speak of business?

D'Artagnan at once withdrew out of discretion.

He directed himself toward the fireplace, within hearing of what the king was going to say to Monsieur, who, full of uneasiness, came to meet him.

The king's face was animated. On his brow was read a will whose redoubtable expression already met with no contradiction in France, and soon was to meet with none in Europe.

— Monsieur, said the king to his brother, I am not content with M. the Chevalier de Lorraine. You, who do him the honor of protecting him, advise him to travel for some months.

These words fell with the crash of an avalanche upon Monsieur, who adored this favorite and concentrated in him all his tenderness.

He cried:

— In what can the Chevalier have displeased Your Majesty?

He cast a furious glance at Madame.

— I shall tell you that when he is gone, replied the king impassively. And also when Madame, who is here, has crossed into England.

— Madame in England! murmured Monsieur, seized with stupor.

— In eight days, my brother, continued the king, while we two shall go where I shall tell you.

And the king turned on his heel after smiling at his brother to soften the bitterness of these two pieces of news.

Meanwhile, Colbert was still talking with M. the Duke of Alameda.

— Monsieur, said Colbert to Aramis, here is the moment to understand each other. I have reconciled you with the king, and I owed that much to a man of your merit; but, as you have sometimes shown me friendship, the occasion offers to give me proof of it. You are besides more French than Spanish. Shall we have, answer me frankly, the neutrality of Spain, if we undertake against the United Provinces?

— Monsieur, replied Aramis, the interest of Spain is quite clear. To set Europe at odds with the United Provinces, against whom subsists the old rancor of their conquered liberty, is our policy; but the King of France is allied with the United Provinces. You know further that this would be a maritime war, and that France is not, I believe, in a state to wage it with advantage.

Colbert, turning at that moment, saw d'Artagnan who was seeking an interlocutor during the aside of the king and Monsieur.

He called him.

And in a low voice to Aramis:

— We may talk with M. d'Artagnan, said he.

— Oh! certainly, replied the ambassador.

— We were saying, M. d'Alameda and I, said Colbert, that war with the United Provinces would be a maritime war.

— That is evident, replied the musketeer.

— And what do you think of it, M. d'Artagnan?

— I think that, to wage this maritime war, we should need a very large army on land.

— What's that? said Colbert, who thought he had misheard.

— Why an army on land? said Aramis.

— Because the king will be beaten at sea if he does not have the English with him, and, beaten at sea, he will soon be invaded, either by the Dutch in the ports, or by the Spaniards on land.

— Spain neutral? said Aramis.

— Neutral so long as the king is the stronger, replied d'Artagnan.

Colbert admired this sagacity, which never touched a question without illuminating it to the bottom.

Aramis smiled. He knew too well that, among diplomats, d'Artagnan recognized no master.

Colbert, who, like all men of pride, caressed his fancy with a certainty of success, resumed:

— Who tells you, M. d'Artagnan, that the king has no navy?

— Oh! I have not concerned myself with those details, replied the captain. I am a mediocre man of the sea. Like all nervous people, I hate the sea; I have an idea that, with ships, France being a seaport with two hundred heads, one would have sailors.

Colbert drew from his pocket a small oblong notebook, divided into two columns. In the first were names of ships; in the second, figures summing up the number of cannon and men equipping those ships.

— I had the same idea as you, he said to d'Artagnan, and I had a statement made of the ships, which we added up. Thirty-five ships.

— Thirty-five ships! It is impossible! cried d'Artagnan.

— Something like two thousand pieces of cannon, said Colbert. That is what the king possesses at this moment. With thirty-five ships one makes three squadrons, but I want five.

— Five! cried Aramis.

— They shall be afloat before the end of the year, gentlemen; the king shall have fifty ships of the line. One fights with that, does one not?

— To build ships, said d'Artagnan, is difficult, but possible. As for arming them, how to do it? In France there are neither foundries nor military yards.

— Bah! replied Colbert with a beaming air, for a year and a half I have installed all that, do you not know? Do you know M. d'Infreville?

— D'Infreville? replied d'Artagnan; no.

— He is a man I discovered. He has a specialty, he knows how to make workmen work. It is he who, at Toulon, has cannon cast and Burgundy wood cut. And then, you will perhaps not believe what I am going to tell you, M. the ambassador: I had yet another idea.

— Oh! Monsieur, said Aramis civilly, I always believe you.

— Imagine that, speculating on 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 His Majesty what they manufacture for themselves. Therefore, the more one buys... Ah! I must add this: I have Forant... Do you know Forant, d'Artagnan?

Colbert forgot himself. He called the captain d'Artagnan plainly, as the king did. But the captain smiled.

— No, replied he, I do not know him.

— He is another man I discovered, a specialty for buying. This Forant bought me three hundred fifty thousand livres of iron in balls, two hundred thousand livres of powder, twelve shiploads of northern wood, matches, grenades, pitch, tar, what do I know? with a saving of seven percent over what all those things manufactured in France would cost me.

— That is an idea, replied d'Artagnan, to have Dutch balls cast that will return to the Dutch.

— Is it not? at a loss.

And Colbert began to laugh a great dry laugh. He was delighted with his joke.

— Moreover, added he, these same Dutch are at this moment building for the king six ships on the model of the best of their navy. Destouches... Ah! you do not know Destouches, perhaps?

— No, Monsieur.

— He is a man who has a singularly sure eye for saying, when a vessel goes out on the water, what are the faults and qualities of that vessel. That is precious, you know! Nature is truly bizarre. Well! this Destouches seemed to me should be a useful man in a port, and he supervises the construction of six seventy-eight gun ships that 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. Now, you know better than anyone whether the army on land is good.

D'Artagnan and Aramis looked at each other, admiring the mysterious work this man had operated in few years.

Colbert understood them, and was touched by this flattery, the best of all.

— If we did not know it in France, said d'Artagnan, outside France it is known still less.

— That is why I said to M. the ambassador, said Colbert, that Spain promising her neutrality, England aiding us...

— If England aids you, said Aramis, I pledge myself for the neutrality of Spain.

— Touch there, hastened to say Colbert with his brusque heartiness. And, as to Spain, you do not have the Golden Fleece, M. d'Alameda. I heard the king say the other day that he would like to see you wear the grand cordon of Saint-Michel.

Aramis bowed.

"Oh! thought d'Artagnan, and Porthos who is no longer there! What ells of ribbons for him in these largesse! Good Porthos!"

— M. d'Artagnan, resumed Colbert, just the two of us. You will have, I wager, a taste for leading the musketeers into Holland. Do you know how to swim?

And he began to laugh like a man moved by good humor.

— Like an eel, replied d'Artagnan.

— Ah! it is that one has rough crossings of canals and marshes, over there, M. d'Artagnan, and the best swimmers drown there.

— It is my trade, replied the musketeer, to die for His Majesty. Only, as it is rare that at war one finds much water without a little fire, I declare to you in advance that I shall do my utmost to choose the fire. I grow old, water chills me; fire warms, M. Colbert.

And d'Artagnan was so beautiful with vigor and youthful pride in pronouncing these words, that Colbert, in his turn, could not help admiring him.

D'Artagnan perceived the effect he had produced. He recalled that the good merchant is he who has his wares prized high when they have value. He therefore prepared his price in advance.

— Thus, said Colbert, we go to Holland?

— Yes, replied d'Artagnan; only...

— Only?... said Colbert.

— Only, repeated d'Artagnan, there is in everything the question of interest and the question of self-esteem. It is a fine salary that of captain of the musketeers; but, note this: we now have the king's guards and the king's military household. A captain of the musketeers should either command all that, and then he would absorb a hundred thousand livres a year for representation and table expenses...

— Do you suppose, by chance, that the king haggles 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, old captain, formerly chief of the king's guard, having precedence over the marshals of France, saw myself, one day of trench, two equals, the captain of the guards and the colonel commanding the Swiss. Now, at no price would I suffer that. I have old habits, I hold to them.

Colbert felt the blow. He was prepared for it, moreover.

— I thought of what you were telling me just now, he answered.

— Of what, Monsieur?

— We were speaking of canals and marshes where one drowns.

— Well?

— Well! if one drowns, it is for lack of a boat, a plank, a stick.

— Of a stick however short, said d'Artagnan.

— Precisely, said Colbert. Also, I know of no example that a marshal of France ever drowned.

D'Artagnan paled with joy, and, in an unsteady voice:

— One would be very proud of me in my country, said he, if I were marshal of France; but one must have commanded an expedition in chief to obtain the stick.

— Monsieur, said Colbert to him, here in this notebook, which you shall meditate upon, is a plan of campaign that you shall have to have observed by the corps of troops that the king places under your orders for the campaign, next spring.

D'Artagnan took the book trembling, and his fingers meeting those of Colbert, the minister loyally pressed the musketeer's hand.

— Monsieur, said he to him, we both had a revenge to take one upon the other. I have begun; your turn!

— I make you reparation, Monsieur, replied d'Artagnan, and beg you to tell the king that the first occasion offered me shall count for a victory, or shall see my death.

— I have the gold fleurs-de-lis of your marshal's stick embroidered from this moment, said Colbert.

The day after that, Aramis, who was leaving for Madrid to negotiate the neutrality of Spain, came to embrace d'Artagnan at his hotel.

— Let us love for four, said d'Artagnan, we are no more than two.

— And you will perhaps not see me again, dear d'Artagnan, said Aramis; if you knew how I have loved you! I am old, I am extinguished, I am dead.

— My friend, said d'Artagnan, you will live more than me, diplomacy orders you to live; but I, honor condemns me to death.

— Bah! men like us, M. the marshal, said Aramis, die only sated, with joy and glory.

— Ah! replied d'Artagnan with a sad smile, it is that now I no longer feel any appetite, M. the duke.

They embraced again, and, two hours after, they were separated.

Chapter CCLXVIII — The Death of M. d'Artagnan

Contrary to what always happens, whether in politics or in morals, each kept his promises and did honor to his engagements.

“Stories of the world, in your language.”