Part 6

— Yes, from behind, murmured the lieutenant with a gesture of supreme disdain.

And he tried to walk on again, as if he had felt ill at ease between those walls once visited by treason.

But the king, who seemed to desire nothing better than to learn, appeared disposed to cast one more glance upon that funereal place. Gaston understood his nephew's wish.

— See, Sire, said he, taking a torch from the hands of M. de Saint-Remy, here is where he fell. There was a bed there, whose curtains he tore as he clung to them.

— Why does the parquet seem hollowed out at that spot? asked Louis.

— Because it is at that spot that the blood flowed, answered Gaston, because the blood sank deep into the oak, and it was only by hollowing it out that they managed to make it disappear, and yet, added Gaston, bringing his torch near the indicated place, and yet this reddish tint has resisted all attempts made to destroy it.

Louis XIV raised his head. Perhaps he was thinking of that bloody trace once shown him at the Louvre, which, as a counterpart to that of Blois, had been made there one day by his father the king with the blood of Concini.

— Come! said he.

They at once resumed their march, for emotion, no doubt, had given the young prince's voice a tone of command to which, on his part, they were unaccustomed.

Arrived at the apartment reserved for the king, and to which one gained access, not only by the little passage we have just followed, but also by a great staircase opening onto the courtyard:

— May Your Majesty, said Gaston, deign to accept this apartment, unworthy though it is to receive you.

— My uncle, answered the young prince, I thank you for your cordial hospitality.

Gaston bowed to his nephew, who embraced him, then he withdrew. Of the twenty musketeers who had accompanied the king, ten escorted Monsieur back to the reception halls, which had not emptied despite His Majesty's departure.

The other ten were posted by the officer, who himself explored all the localities in five minutes with that cold and hard glance which habit does not always give, seeing that this glance belonged to genius.

Then, when all his men were placed, he chose for his headquarters the antechamber, where he found a great armchair, a lamp, wine, water, and dry bread.

He brightened the lamp, drank half a glass of wine, twisted his lips beneath an expressive smile, settled into the great armchair, and made all his arrangements for sleeping.

Chapter IX — Where the stranger from the Medici hostelry loses his incognito

This officer who was sleeping or preparing to sleep was nevertheless, despite his careless air, charged with a grave responsibility. Lieutenant of the king's musketeers, he commanded the whole company that had come from Paris, and that company numbered a hundred and twenty men; but, except for the twenty we have spoken of, the other hundred were occupied with the guard of the queen mother and especially of M. the cardinal. M. Giulio Mazarini economized on the travel expenses of his guards; he accordingly made use of the king's, and liberally, since he took fifty for himself, a particularity which would not have failed to appear most unseemly to any man unacquainted with the customs of that court. What would not have failed likewise to appear, if not unseemly, at least extraordinary to this stranger, is that the side of the castle destined for M. the cardinal was brilliant, lighted, full of movement. The musketeers there mounted guard before every door and let no one enter, save the couriers who, even while traveling, followed the cardinal for his correspondence.

Twenty men were on duty at the queen mother's; thirty were resting to relieve their companions the next day. On the king's side, on the contrary, obscurity, silence, and solitude. Once the doors were shut, no further appearance of royalty. All the household servants had gradually withdrawn.

M. the prince had sent to inquire whether His Majesty required his good offices, and upon the commonplace negative of the lieutenant of the musketeers, who was used to the question and the answer, everything began to fall asleep, as in the house of a good bourgeois. And yet it was easy to hear, from the wing inhabited by the young king, the music of the festivity, and to see the richly illuminated windows of the great hall.

Ten minutes after his installation therein, Louis XIV had been able to recognize, by a certain movement more marked than that of his exit, the exit of the cardinal, who in his turn betook himself to bed with a great escort of gentlemen and ladies.

Moreover, he had but to look through the window, whose shutters had not been closed, to perceive all this movement. His Eminence crossed the courtyard, escorted by Monsieur himself, who held a torch for him; then passed the queen mother, to whom Madame familiarly gave her arm, and both went off whispering like two old friends. Behind these two couples all filed past, great ladies, pages, officers; the torches set the whole courtyard ablaze as with a moving reflected fire; then the sound of steps and voices was lost in the upper floors.

Then no one thought any more of the king, leaning on his window and who had sadly watched all that light flow away, who had listened to all that noise recede; no one, save however that stranger from the Medici hostelry, whom we have seen leave wrapped in his black cloak.

He had gone straight up to the castle and had come to prowl, with his melancholy face, about the palace, which the people still surrounded, and seeing that no one guarded the great gate nor the porch, seeing that Monsieur's soldiers were fraternizing with the royal soldiers, that is to say were drinking Beaugency at will, or rather without restraint, the stranger crossed the crowd, then traversed the courtyard, then came to the landing of the staircase leading to the cardinal's apartments.

What, in all probability, led him to direct himself that way, was the blaze of the torches and the busy air of the pages and servants.

But he was stopped short by a maneuver of a musket and by the sentry's cry.

— Where are you going, friend? asked the guard.

— I am going to the king's, answered the stranger tranquilly and proudly.

The soldier called one of His Eminence's officers, who, in the tone with which a clerk's assistant directs a ministry petitioner in his researches, let fall these words:

— The other staircase opposite.

And the officer, troubling himself no further about the stranger, resumed the interrupted conversation.

The foreigner, without answering anything, directed himself toward the indicated staircase.

On this side, no more noise, no more torches. Obscurity, amid which one saw a sentry wandering like a shadow.

Silence, which allowed one to hear the sound of his steps accompanied by the ringing of spurs upon the flagstones.

This sentry was one of the twenty musketeers assigned to the king's service, and who mounted guard with the stiffness and conscience of a statue.

— Who goes there? said this guard.

— Friend, answered the stranger.

— What do you want?

— To speak with the king.

— Oh! oh! my dear sir, that can hardly be.

— And why?

— Because the king is abed.

— Abed already?

— Yes.

— No matter, I must speak with him.

— And I tell you it is impossible.

— However...

— Be off!

— Is that the order?

— I owe you no account. Be off!

And this time the sentry accompanied his word with a threatening gesture; but the stranger moved no more than if his feet had taken root.

— Monsieur the musketeer, said he, are you a gentleman?

— I have that honor.

— Well! I too am one, and between gentlemen some consideration is due.

The sentry lowered his weapon, vanquished by the dignity with which these words had been pronounced.

— Speak, monsieur, said he, and if you ask me something within my power...

— Thank you. You have an officer, do you not?

— Our lieutenant, yes, monsieur.

— Well! I wish to speak with your lieutenant.

— Ah! for that, it is different. Go up, monsieur.

The stranger saluted the sentry in lofty fashion, and mounted the staircase, while the cry: "Lieutenant, a visitor!" transmitted from sentry to sentry, preceded the stranger and went to trouble the officer's first doze.

Dragging his boot, rubbing his eyes and fastening his cloak, the lieutenant took three steps toward the stranger.

— What is your pleasure, monsieur? asked he.

— You are the officer on duty, lieutenant of the musketeers?

— I have that honor, answered the officer.

— Monsieur, I must absolutely speak with the king.

The lieutenant looked attentively at the stranger, and in that glance, rapid though it was, he saw all he wished to see, that is to say a profound distinction beneath an ordinary habit.

— I do not suppose you are a madman, replied he, and yet you seem to me of a condition to know, monsieur, that one does not thus enter a king's presence without his consent.

— He will consent, monsieur.

— Monsieur, permit me to doubt it; the king returned a quarter of an hour ago, he must at this moment be in the act of undressing. Besides, the order is given.

— When he knows who I am, answered the stranger, raising his head, he will lift the order.

The officer was more and more surprised, more and more subdued.

— If I were to consent to announce you, may I at least know whom I should announce, monsieur?

— You would announce His Majesty Charles II, king of England, Scotland, and Ireland.

The officer uttered a cry of astonishment, drew back, and one could see upon his pale face one of the most poignant emotions ever repressed by a man of energy into the depths of his heart.

— Oh! yes, Sire: indeed, I should have recognized you.

— You have seen my portrait?

— No, Sire.

— Or you have seen me myself formerly at court, before I was driven from France?

— No, Sire, it is not that either.

— How then would you have recognized me, if you knew neither my portrait nor my person?

— Sire, I have seen His Majesty the king your father in a terrible moment.

— The day...

— Yes.

A dark cloud passed over the prince's brow; then, dispelling it with his hand:

— Do you still see some difficulty in announcing me? said he.

— Sire, pardon me, answered the officer, but I could not guess a king beneath so simple an exterior; and yet, I had the honor of saying just now to Your Majesty, I have seen King Charles I... But, pardon, I run to warn the king.

Then, turning back:

— Your Majesty desires secrecy for this interview, no doubt? asked he.

— I do not require it, but if it is possible to keep it...

— It is possible, Sire, for I can dispense with warning the first gentleman of the bedchamber; but it is necessary for that that Your Majesty consent to entrust me with his sword.

— It is true. I forgot that none enters armed into the presence of the king of France.

— Your Majesty shall be an exception if he wills it, but then I shall cover my responsibility by warning the king's service.

— Here is my sword, monsieur. Do you now please to announce me to His Majesty?

— Instantly, Sire.

And the officer at once ran to knock at the communicating door, which the valet de chambre opened to him.

— His Majesty the king of England! said the officer.

— His Majesty the king of England! repeated the valet de chambre.

At these words, a gentleman threw open the king's door with both leaves, and one saw Louis XIV, hatless and swordless, with his doublet unbuttoned, advancing with signs of the greatest surprise.

— You, my brother! you at Blois! cried Louis XIV, dismissing with a gesture the gentleman and the valet de chambre, who passed into a neighboring room.

— Sire, answered Charles II, I was going to Paris in hope of seeing Your Majesty, when rumor made known to me your imminent arrival in this city. I then prolonged my stay, having something very particular to communicate to you.

— Does this cabinet suit you, my brother?

— Perfectly, Sire, for I believe we cannot be overheard.

— I have dismissed my gentleman and my watchman: they are in the next room. There, behind that partition, is a solitary cabinet giving onto the antechamber, and in the antechamber you saw but one officer, did you not?

— Yes, Sire.

— Well then! speak, my brother, I listen to you.

— Sire, I begin, and may Your Majesty take pity on the misfortunes of our house.

The king of France blushed and drew his armchair near that of the king of England.

— Sire, said Charles II, I need not ask Your Majesty if he knows the details of my deplorable history.

Louis XIV blushed more deeply than the first time, then extending his hand over that of the king of England:

— My brother, said he, it is shameful to say, but rarely does the cardinal speak politics before me. There is more: formerly I had historical readings made to me by La Porte, my valet de chambre, but he put a stop to those readings and took La Porte from me, so that I pray my brother Charles to tell me all these things as to a man who would know nothing.

— Well! Sire, I shall have, in taking things from higher up, one more chance of touching the heart of Your Majesty.

— Speak, my brother, speak.

— You know, Sire, that called in 1650 to Edinburgh, during Cromwell's expedition to Ireland, I was crowned at Scone. A year after, wounded in one of the provinces he had usurped, Cromwell returned upon us. To meet him was my aim, to leave Scotland was my desire.

— However, resumed the young king, Scotland is almost your native country, my brother.

— Yes; but the Scots were for me cruel compatriots! Sire, they had forced me to renounce the religion of my fathers; they had hanged Lord Montrose, my most devoted servant, because he was not a covenanter, and as the poor martyr, to whom a favor had been offered in dying, had asked that his body be cut into as many pieces as there were towns in Scotland, so that witnesses of his fidelity might be met everywhere, I could not leave one town or enter another without passing over some fragment of that body which had acted, fought, breathed for me.

"I traversed therefore, by a bold march, the army of Cromwell, and entered England. The Protector set himself to pursue this strange flight, which had a crown for its object. If I had been able to reach London before him, no doubt the prize of the race was mine, but he overtook me at Worcester.

"The genius of England was no longer in us, but in him. Sire, on 3 September 1651, the anniversary of that other battle of Dunbar, already so fatal to the Scots, I was defeated. Two thousand men fell around me before I thought of taking a step backward. At last it was necessary to flee.

"Thenceforth my history became a romance. Pursued with fury, I cut my hair, I disguised myself as a woodcutter. A day spent in the branches of an oak gave that tree the name of royal oak, which it still bears.

"My adventures in the county of Strafford, whence I came out leading before me on the crupper the daughter of my host, are still the tale of all the watches and will furnish the subject of a ballad. One day I shall write all this, Sire, for the instruction of the kings my brothers.

"I shall tell how, arriving at Mr. Norton's, I met a chaplain of the court who was watching a game of ninepins, and an old servant who named me in dissolving into tears, and who missed almost as surely of killing me with his fidelity as another would have done with his treason. Finally, I shall tell my terrors; yes, Sire, my terrors, when, at Colonel Windham's, a farrier who was examining our horses declared that they had been shod in the north.

— It is strange, murmured Louis XIV, I was ignorant of all that. I knew only your embarkation at Brighelmsted and your landing in Normandy.

— Oh! said Charles, with your permission, my God! that kings should thus ignore one another's history, how do you expect them to help one another!

— But tell me, my brother, continued Louis XIV, how, having been so roughly received in England, do you still hope for anything from that unhappy country and that rebellious people?

— Oh Sire! it is that, since the battle of Worcester, all things are much changed there! Cromwell is dead after having signed with France a treaty in which he wrote his name above yours. He died 3 September 1658, a new anniversary of the battles of Worcester and Dunbar.

— His son succeeded him...

— But certain men, Sire, have a family and no heir. The inheritance of Oliver was too heavy for Richard.

"Richard, who was neither republican nor royalist; Richard, who let his guards eat his dinner and his generals govern the republic; Richard abdicated the protectorship on 22 April 1659. A little more than a year ago, Sire.

"Since that time, England is naught but a gaming-house where each throws the dice for my father's crown. The two most desperate players are Lambert and Monck. Well! Sire, in my turn, I should like to join this game, where the stake is cast upon my royal mantle. Sire, a million to corrupt one of these players, to make me an ally of him, or two hundred of your gentlemen to drive them from my palace of White Hall, as Jesus drove the sellers from the temple.

— Thus, resumed Louis XIV, you come to ask me...

— Your aid; that is to say that which not only kings owe one another, but that which simple Christians owe one another; your aid, Sire, whether in money or in men; your aid, Sire, and in a month, whether I set Lambert against Monck, or Monck against Lambert, I shall have reconquered the paternal heritage without having cost a guinea to my country, a drop of blood to my subjects, for they are now drunk with revolution, protectorship, and republic, and ask nothing better than to go all reeling to fall and sleep in royalty; your aid, Sire, and I shall owe more to Your Majesty than to my father. Poor father! who paid so dear for the ruin of our house! You see, Sire, if I am unhappy, if I am desperate, for behold me accusing my father.

And the blood mounted to the pale face of Charles II, who remained an instant with his head between his two hands and as if blinded by that blood which seemed to rebel at the filial blasphemy.

The young king was no less unhappy than his elder brother; he stirred in his armchair and found not a word to answer. At last Charles II, to whom ten years more gave a superior force to master his emotions, recovered speech first.

— Sire, said he, your answer? I await it like a condemned man his sentence. Must I die?

— My brother, answered the French prince to Charles II, you ask me for a million, me! but I have never possessed a quarter of that sum! but I possess nothing! I am no more king of France than you are king of England. I am a name, a cipher clothed in fleur-de-lis velvet, that is all. I am a visible throne, that is my only advantage over Your Majesty. I have nothing, I can do nothing.

— Is it true! cried Charles II.

— My brother, said Louis, lowering his voice, I have borne miseries which my poorest gentlemen have not borne. If my poor La Porte were near me, he would tell you that I have slept in torn sheets through which my legs passed; he would tell you that, later, when I asked for my carriages, they brought me vehicles half eaten by the rats of my coach-houses; he would tell you that, when I asked for my dinner, they went to inquire in the cardinal's kitchens whether there was anything to eat for the king. And see, even today, today, that I am twenty-two years old, today that I have attained the age of the great royal majorities, today that I should have the key of the treasury, the direction of policy, the supremacy of peace and war, cast your eyes about me, see what they leave me: look at this abandonment, this disdain, this silence, while yonder, see, look yonder, look at that eagerness, those lights, those homages! There! there! see you, there is the true king of France, my brother.

— At the cardinal's?

— At the cardinal's, yes.

— Then, I am condemned, Sire.

Louis XIV answered nothing.

— Condemned is the word, for I shall never solicit him who would have let my mother and my sister die of cold and hunger, that is to say the daughter and the granddaughter of Henri IV, if M. de Retz and the Parliament had not sent them wood and bread.

— Die! murmured Louis XIV.

— Well! continued the king of England, poor Charles II, grandson of Henri IV like you, Sire, having neither Parliament nor Cardinal de Retz, will die of hunger as his sister and mother all but died.

Louis frowned and violently twisted the lace of his cuff.

This inertia, this immobility, serving as mask to so visible an emotion, struck King Charles, who took the young man's hand.

— Thank you, said he, my brother; you have pitied me, that is all I could require of you in the position you are in.

— Sire, said suddenly Louis XIV, raising his head, it is a million you need, or two hundred gentlemen, did you tell me?

— Sire, a million will suffice me.

— It is very little.

— Offered to a single man, it is much. One has often bought convictions cheaper; I shall have to do only with venalities.

— Two hundred gentlemen, think of it, that is a little more than a company, that is all.

— Sire, there is in our family a tradition, that four men, four French gentlemen devoted to my father, all but saved my father, judged by a Parliament, guarded by an army, surrounded by a nation.

— Therefore, if I can get you a million or two hundred gentlemen, you will be satisfied, and you will hold me for your good brother?

— I shall hold you for my savior, and if I mount again the throne of my father, England shall, as long as I reign, at least, be a sister to France, as you shall have been a brother to me.

— Well! my brother, said Louis, rising, that which you hesitate to ask of me, I shall ask it, I! that which I have never wished to do for my own sake, I shall do for yours. I shall go to the king of France, the other, the rich, the powerful, and I shall solicit, I, this million or those two hundred gentlemen, and we shall see!

— Oh! cried Charles, you are a noble friend, Sire, a heart created by God! You save me, my brother, and when you have need of the life you give me back, ask it of me!

— Silence! my brother, silence! said Louis in a low voice. Take care lest you be overheard! We are not at the end. To ask money of Mazarin! it is more than to cross the enchanted forest where each tree encloses a demon; it is more than to go conquer a world!

— But however, Sire, when you ask...

“Stories of the world, in your language.”