Part 20

The king could not recover from his surprise, and looked now at the smiling face of the musketeer, now at that dark window opening onto the night. But before he had collected his thoughts, eight of d'Artagnan's men—for two had remained to guard the boat—brought into the house, where Parry received them, that oblong-shaped object which for the moment enclosed the destinies of England.

Before leaving Calais, d'Artagnan had had made in that city a kind of coffin, broad and deep enough for a man to turn around in with ease. The bottom and sides, neatly padded, formed a bed soft enough that the rolling of the sea could not turn this sort of cage into a crushing machine. The little grating of which d'Artagnan had spoken to the king, like the visor of a helmet, was placed at the height of the man's face. It was cut so that at the slightest cry a sudden pressure could stifle that cry, and, if need be, him who had cried out. D'Artagnan knew his crew and his prisoner so well that, during the whole journey, he had dreaded two things: either that the general might prefer death to this strange slavery and get himself smothered by insisting on speaking; or that his guards might be tempted by the prisoner's offers and put him, d'Artagnan, into the box, in Monck's place.

Therefore d'Artagnan had spent the two days and two nights near the chest, alone with the general, offering him wine and food, which he had refused, and eternally trying to reassure him as to the fate that awaited him following this singular captivity. Two pistols on the table and his bare sword kept d'Artagnan safe from any indiscretion from without.

Once at Scheveningen, he had been completely reassured. His men greatly feared any conflict with the lords of the land. Besides, he had interested in his cause the man who morally served him as lieutenant, and whom we have seen answer to the name of Menneville. He, being no common mind, had more to risk than the others, because he had more conscience. He therefore believed in a future in d'Artagnan's service, and, accordingly, he would have been hacked to pieces rather than violate the order given by the chief. It was to him, then, that once landed d'Artagnan had entrusted the crate and the general's breathing. It was also to him that he had recommended having the crate brought by the seven men as soon as he heard the triple whistle. We see this lieutenant obeyed. The coffin once in the king's house, d'Artagnan dismissed his men with a gracious smile and said to them:

— Gentlemen, you have rendered a great service to His Majesty King Charles II, who, within six weeks, will be king of England. Your gratuity shall be doubled; return and wait for me at the boat.

Whereupon all departed with transports of joy that frightened the very dog.

D'Artagnan had had the coffin brought as far as the king's antechamber. He closed the doors of this antechamber with the greatest care; after which, he opened the coffin, and said to the general:

— My general, I have a thousand apologies to make you; my manners have not been worthy of a man such as you, I know it well; but I needed you to take me for a boat captain. And then England is a most inconvenient country for transports. I hope therefore that you will take all this into consideration. But here, my general, continued d'Artagnan, you are free to rise and to walk.

That said, he cut the cords that bound the general's arms and hands. The latter rose and sat down with the bearing of a man who expects death.

D'Artagnan then opened the door of Charles's cabinet and said to him:

— Sire, here is your enemy, Mr. Monck; I had promised myself to do this for your service. It is done, command now. Mr. Monck, added he, turning toward the prisoner, you are before His Majesty King Charles II, sovereign lord of Great Britain.

Monck raised upon the young prince his coldly stoical gaze, and answered:

— I know no king of Great Britain; I know not even here anyone worthy to bear the name of gentleman; for it is in the name of King Charles II that an emissary, whom I took for an honest man, came to lay for me an infamous snare. I fell into that snare, so much the worse for me. Now, you, the tempter, said he to the king; you, the executioner, said he to d'Artagnan, remember what I am about to tell you: you have my body, you may kill it, I urge you to, for you shall never have my soul nor my will. And now ask me not a single word, for from this moment I shall not even open my mouth to cry out. I have spoken.

And he pronounced these words with the fierce and invincible resolution of the most gangrened puritan. D'Artagnan looked at his prisoner as a man who knows the value of each word and who fixes that value according to the accent with which it was pronounced.

— The fact is, said he very low to the king, that the general is a determined man; he has not wished to take a mouthful of bread, nor swallow a drop of wine, for two days. But as from this moment it is Your Majesty who decides his fate, I wash my hands of it, as Pilate says.

Monck, standing, pale and resigned, waited, his eye fixed and his arms crossed.

D'Artagnan turned back toward him.

— You understand perfectly, said he to him, that your speech, very fine otherwise, can suit no one, not even yourself. His Majesty wished to speak with you, you refused an interview; why now that you are face to face, that you are there by a force independent of your will, why should you constrain us to rigors that I regard as useless and absurd? Speak, the devil! if only to say no.

Monck did not unclose his lips, Monck did not turn away his eyes, Monck stroked his mustache with a worried air that announced things were going to spoil. During this time, Charles II had fallen into a deep reflection. For the first time, he found himself face to face with Monck, that is to say with the man he had so much desired to see, and, with that particular glance God has given to the eagle and to kings, he had sounded the abyss of his heart.

He saw therefore Monck resolved quite positively to die rather than speak, which was not extraordinary on the part of a man so considerable, and whose wound must at this moment be so cruel. Charles II at that very instant took one of those determinations upon which an ordinary man stakes his life, a general his fortune, a king his kingdom.

— Sir, said he to Monck, you are perfectly right on certain points. I do not ask you therefore to answer me, but to listen to me.

There was a moment of silence, during which the king looked at Monck, who remained impassive.

— You just now made me a painful reproach, sir, continued the king. You said that one of my emissaries went to Newcastle to set you a trap, and, this, by the way, will not have been understood by Mr. d'Artagnan here present, and to whom, before all else, I owe most sincere thanks for his generous, for his heroic devotion.

D'Artagnan bowed respectfully. Monck did not blink.

— For Mr. d'Artagnan, and note well, Mr. Monck, that I do not tell you this to excuse myself, for Mr. d'Artagnan, continued the king, went to England of his own motion, without interest, without order, without hope, like the true gentleman he is, to render service to an unhappy king and to add one more fine deed to the illustrious actions of a life so well fulfilled.

D'Artagnan blushed a little and coughed to compose himself. Monck did not move.

— You do not believe what I tell you, Mr. Monck? resumed the king. I understand it: such proofs of devotion are so rare, that one might doubt their reality.

— The gentleman would be much wrong not to believe you, Sire, cried d'Artagnan, for what Your Majesty has just said is the exact truth, and the truth so exact, that it appears I did, in going to find the general, something that thwarts everything. In truth, if that is so, I am in despair.

— Mr. d'Artagnan, cried the king, taking the musketeer's hand, you have obliged me more, believe me, than if you had made my cause succeed, for you have revealed to me an unknown friend to whom I shall be forever grateful, and whom I shall always love.

And the king cordially pressed his hand.

— And, continued he, saluting Monck, an enemy whom I shall henceforth esteem at his true worth.

The puritan's eyes shot forth a flash, but a single one, and his face, for an instant illuminated by that flash, resumed its somber impassiveness.

— Therefore, Mr. d'Artagnan, pursued Charles, here is what was going to happen: the Count de La Fère, whom you know, I believe, had set out for Newcastle...

— Athos? cried d'Artagnan.

— Yes, that is his war name, I believe. The Count de La Fère had therefore set out for Newcastle, and he was going perhaps to bring the general to some conference with me or with those of my party, when you violently, it appears, intervened in the negotiation.

— Mordioux! replied d'Artagnan, it was no doubt he who was entering the camp the very evening I was penetrating it with my fishermen...

An imperceptible frown from Monck taught d'Artagnan that he had guessed right.

— Yes, yes, murmured he, I had thought I recognized his build, I had thought I heard his voice. Accursed that I am! Oh! Sire, pardon me; I thought however I had well steered my boat.

— There is nothing wrong, sir, said the king, save that the general accuses me of having had a trap set for him, which is not so. No, general, those are not the weapons I counted on using with you; you shall soon see it. Meanwhile, when I give you my word as a gentleman, believe me, sir, believe me. Now, Mr. d'Artagnan, a word.

— I listen on my knees, Sire.

— You are well mine, are you not?

— Your Majesty has seen it. Too much!

— Good. From a man like you, one word suffices. Besides, alongside the word, there are the deeds. General, be pleased to follow me. Come with us, Mr. d'Artagnan.

D'Artagnan, rather surprised, made ready to obey. Charles II went out, Monck followed him, d'Artagnan followed Monck. Charles took the road d'Artagnan had followed to come to him; soon the fresh air of the sea came to strike the faces of the three nocturnal walkers, and, fifty paces beyond a small door that Charles opened, they found themselves upon the dune, facing the ocean which, having ceased to swell, rested upon the shore like a weary monster. Charles II, pensive, walked with head lowered and hand beneath his cloak.

Monck followed him, his arms free and his glance uneasy.

D'Artagnan came next, his fist upon the pommel of his sword.

— Where is the boat that brought you, gentlemen? said Charles to the musketeer.

— Yonder, Sire; I have seven men and an officer who await me in that little bark which is lit by a fire.

— Ah! yes, the bark is drawn up on the sand, and I see it; but you certainly did not come from Newcastle in this bark?

— No indeed, Sire, I had chartered at my own cost a felucca that cast anchor within cannon shot of the dunes. It is in this felucca that we made the voyage.

— Sir, said the king to Monck, you are free.

Monck, firm of will as he was, could not restrain an exclamation. The king made an affirming movement of the head and continued:

— We are going to wake a fisherman of this village, who will put his boat to sea this very night and will bring you back whence you shall command him to go. Mr. d'Artagnan, here present, shall escort Your Honor. I place Mr. d'Artagnan under the safeguard of your loyalty, Mr. Monck.

Monck let escape a murmur of surprise, and d'Artagnan a deep sigh. The king, seeming to notice nothing, knocked at the latticed sapwood that closed the cabin of the first fisherman inhabiting the dune.

— Hola! Keyser! cried he, awake!

— Who calls me? asked the fisherman.

— I, Charles, the king.

— Ah! milord, cried Keyser, rising fully dressed from the sail in which he slept as one sleeps in a hammock, what is there for your service?

— Patron Keyser, said Charles, you are to set sail at once. Here is a traveler who charters your bark and will pay you well; serve him well.

And the king stepped a few paces back to let Monck speak freely with the fisherman.

— I wish to cross to England, said Monck, who spoke Dutch just enough to make himself understood.

— Instantly, said the patron; this very instant, if you will.

— But it will be long? said Monck.

— Not half an hour, Your Honor. My eldest son is making ready to sail just now, seeing we must depart for the fishing at three in the morning.

— Well! is it settled? asked Charles, drawing near.

— Save the price, said the fisherman; yes, Sire.

— That concerns me, said Charles; the gentleman is my friend.

Monck started and looked at Charles at these words.

— Good, milord, replied Keyser.

And at that moment was heard Keyser's eldest son sounding, from the strand, upon a bull's horn.

— And now, gentlemen, depart, said the king.

— Sire, said d'Artagnan, may it please Your Majesty to grant me a few minutes. I had engaged men, I depart without them, I must warn them.

— Whistle them, said Charles, smiling.

D'Artagnan whistled indeed, while patron Keyser answered his son, and four men, led by Menneville, came running.

— Here is at least a good installment, said d'Artagnan, handing them a purse that contained two thousand five hundred livres in gold. Go wait for me at Calais, where you know.

And d'Artagnan, heaving a deep sigh, let the purse fall into Menneville's hands.

— How! you leave us? cried the men.

— For a short time, said d'Artagnan, or for a long, who knows? But with these two thousand five hundred livres and the two thousand five hundred you have already received, you are paid according to our agreements. Let us then part, my children.

— But the boat?

— Do not trouble yourselves about it.

— Our effects are aboard the felucca.

— You will go fetch them, and at once you will set out on the road.

— Yes, commander.

D'Artagnan returned to Monck, saying to him:

— Sir, I await your orders, for we are to depart together, unless my company be not agreeable to you.

— On the contrary, sir, said Monck.

— Come, gentlemen, aboard! cried Keyser's son.

Charles saluted the general nobly and dignifiedly, saying to him:

— You will pardon me the mishap and the violence you have suffered, when you are convinced that I did not cause them.

Monck bowed profoundly without answering. For his part, Charles affected to say not a word in particular to d'Artagnan; but aloud:

— Thanks again, Mr. Chevalier, said he to him, thanks for your services. They shall be paid you by the Lord God, who reserves for me alone, I hope, the trials and the sorrow.

Monck followed Keyser and his son, and embarked with them.

D'Artagnan followed them, murmuring:

— Ah! my poor Planchet, I much fear we have made a bad speculation!

Chapter XXX — The shares of the firm Planchet and Company rise to par

During the crossing, Monck spoke to d'Artagnan only in cases of urgent necessity. Thus, when the Frenchman was slow to come take his meal, a poor meal composed of salt fish, biscuit and gin, Monck called him and said to him:

— To table, sir!

That was all. D'Artagnan, precisely because in great emergencies he was extremely concise, drew from this concision no favorable augury for the result of his mission. Now, as he had much time to spare, he racked his brains during that time to find out how Athos had seen Charles II, how he had conspired with him this departure, how finally he had entered Monck's camp; and the poor lieutenant of musketeers plucked a hair from his mustache each time he reflected that Athos was no doubt the horseman who accompanied Monck on the famous night of the abduction. Finally, after two nights and two days of crossing, patron Keyser touched land at the spot where Monck, who had given all orders during the passage, had commanded they disembark. It was exactly at the mouth of that little river near which Athos had chosen his dwelling. The day was declining; a fine sun, like a shield of reddened steel, plunged the lower extremity of its disk beneath the blue line of the sea. The felucca still sailed, going up the river, rather wide at this point; but Monck, in his impatience, ordered to land, and Keyser's shallop set him ashore, in company with d'Artagnan, upon the muddy bank of the river, amid the reeds... D'Artagnan, resigned to obedience, followed Monck absolutely as the chained bear follows his master; but his position humiliated him greatly, in his turn, and he grumbled low that the service of kings is bitter, and that the best of them is worth nothing.

Monck walked with great strides. One would have said he was not yet quite sure of having reconquered the soil of England, and already one distinctly perceived the few houses of sailors and fishermen scattered upon the little quay of this humble port.

Suddenly d'Artagnan cried:

— Eh! but, God forgive me, there is a house on fire!

Monck raised his eyes. It was indeed fire that was beginning to devour a house. It had been set to a small shed adjoining this house, whose roofing it was beginning to gnaw. The cool evening wind came to aid the conflagration. The two travelers hastened their pace, heard great cries and saw, on drawing near, the soldiers who were waving their weapons and shaking their fist toward the burning house. It was no doubt this threatening occupation that had made them neglect to signal the felucca. Monck stopped short an instant, and for the first time formulated his thought in words.

— Eh! said he, these are perhaps no longer my soldiers, but Lambert's.

These words enclosed all at once a sorrow, an apprehension and a reproach that d'Artagnan understood to marvel. Indeed, during the general's absence, Lambert might have given battle, conquered, dispersed the parliamentarians and taken with his army the place of Monck's army, deprived of its firmest support. At this doubt which passed from Monck's mind to his own, d'Artagnan made this reasoning: "One of two things will happen: either Monck is right, and there are no longer but Lambertists in the country, that is to say enemies who will receive me marvelously, since it is to me they will owe their victory; or nothing is changed, and Monck, transported with joy at finding his camp in the same place, will not show himself too harsh in his reprisals."

While thinking thus, the two travelers advanced, and they began to find themselves amid a little troop of sailors who looked with sorrow at the burning house, but who dared say nothing, frightened by the soldiers' threats. Monck addressed one of these sailors.

— What is happening then? asked he.

— Sir, answered this man, not recognizing Monck for an officer beneath the thick cloak that enveloped him, it is that this house was inhabited by a stranger, and that this stranger became suspect to the soldiers. Then they wished to penetrate his dwelling under pretext of conducting him to the camp; but he, without being frightened by their number, threatened with death the first who should try to cross the threshold of the door; and as there was one who risked the thing, the Frenchman stretched him on the ground with a pistol shot.

— Ah! he is a Frenchman? said d'Artagnan, rubbing his hands. Good!

— How, good? said the fisherman.

— No, I meant to say... after... my tongue slipped.

— After, sir? The others became enraged like lions; they fired more than a hundred musket shots at the house; but the Frenchman was sheltered behind the wall, and each time one wished to enter by the door, one met a gunshot from his lackey, who shoots true, go on! Each time one threatened the window, one met the master's pistol. Count, there are seven men on the ground.

— Ah! my brave compatriot! cried d'Artagnan, wait, wait, I come to you, and we shall have reason of all this rabble!

— One moment, sir, said Monck, wait.

— Long?

— No, the time to ask a question.

Then, turning back toward the sailor:

— My friend, asked he, with an emotion that, despite all his self-command, he could not hide, to whom do these soldiers belong, pray?

— And to whom would you have them belong if not to that madman Monck?

— There has then been no battle given?

— Ah! indeed! What for? Lambert's army melts like snow in April. All comes to Monck, officers and soldiers. In eight days, Lambert will have no more than fifty men.

The fisherman was interrupted by a new volley of shots fired at the house, and by a new pistol shot that answered this volley and laid low the most enterprising of the assailants. The soldiers' anger was at its height. The fire mounted ever and a plume of flames and smoke whirled at the roof of the house. D'Artagnan could contain himself no longer.

— Mordioux! said he to Monck, looking at him askance, you are a general, and you let your soldiers burn houses and assassinate people! and you look at that tranquilly, warming your hands at the fire of the conflagration! Mordioux! you are not a man!

— Patience, sir, patience, said Monck, smiling.

— Patience! patience! until this gentleman so brave be roasted, is it not?

And d'Artagnan was rushing forward.

— Stay, sir, said Monck imperiously.

And he advanced toward the house. Just then an officer had drawn near and was saying to the besieged:

— The house burns, you will be grilled in an hour! There is still time; come, will you tell us what you know of General Monck, and we will leave you your life. Answer, or by Saint Patrick...!

The besieged answered not; no doubt he was reloading his pistol.

— They have gone to fetch reinforcements, continued the officer; in a quarter of an hour there will be a hundred men around this house.

— I require, to answer, said the Frenchman, that all be withdrawn; I require to come out free, to go alone to the camp, or else I shall get myself killed here!

— A thousand thunders! cried d'Artagnan, but that is the voice of Athos! Ah! scoundrels!

And d'Artagnan's sword flashed from its scabbard. Monck stopped him and stopped himself; then in a sonorous voice:

— Hola! what is done here? Digby, why this fire? why these cries?

— The general! cried Digby, letting his sword fall.

— The general! repeated the soldiers.

— Well! what is there astonishing? said Monck in a calm voice.

Then, silence being re-established:

— Come, said he, who lit this fire?

The soldiers lowered their heads.

“Stories of the world, in your language.”