Twenty Years After
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“If it is a snare,” replied D’Artagnan, “I shall scent it out, be assured. If Mazarin is an Italian, I am a Gascon.”
And D’Artagnan dressed himself in an instant.
Whilst Porthos, still in bed, was hooking on his cloak for him, a second knock at the door was heard.
“Come in,” exclaimed D’Artagnan; and another servant entered.
“From His Eminence, Cardinal Mazarin,” presenting a letter.
D’Artagnan looked at Porthos.
“A complicated affair,” said Porthos; “where will you begin?”
“It is arranged capitally; his eminence expects me in half an hour.”
“Good.”
“My friend,” said D’Artagnan, turning to the servant, “tell his eminence that in half an hour I shall be at his command.”
“It is very fortunate,” resumed the Gascon, when the valet had retired, “that he did not meet the other one.”
“Do you not think that they have sent for you, both for the same thing?”
“I do not think it, I am certain of it.”
“Quick, quick, D’Artagnan. Remember that the queen awaits you, and after the queen, the cardinal, and after the cardinal, myself.”
D’Artagnan summoned Anne of Austria’s servant and signified that he was ready to follow him into the queen’s presence.
The servant conducted him by the Rue des Petits Champs and turning to the left entered the little garden gate leading into the Rue Richelieu; then they gained the private staircase and D’Artagnan was ushered into the oratory. A certain emotion, for which he could not account, made the lieutenant’s heart beat: he had no longer the assurance of youth; experience had taught him the importance of past events. Formerly he would have approached the queen as a young man who bends before a woman; but now it was a different thing; he answered her summons as an humble soldier obeys an illustrious general.
The silence of the oratory was at last disturbed by the slight rustling of silk, and D’Artagnan started when he perceived the tapestry raised by a white hand, which, by its form, its color and its beauty he recognized as that royal hand which had one day been presented to him to kiss. The queen entered.
“It is you, Monsieur d’Artagnan,” she said, fixing a gaze full of melancholy interest on the countenance of the officer, “and I know you well. Look at me well in your turn. I am the queen; do you recognize me?”
“No, madame,” replied D’Artagnan.
“But are you no longer aware,” continued Anne, giving that sweet expression to her voice which she could do at will, “that in former days the queen had once need of a young, brave and devoted cavalier-that she found this cavalier-and that, although he might have thought that she had forgotten him, she had kept a place for him in the depths of her heart?”
“No, madame, I was ignorant of that,” said the musketeer.
“So much the worse, sir,” said Anne of Austria; “so much the worse, at least for the queen, for to-day she has need of the same courage and the same devotion.”
“What!” exclaimed D’Artagnan, “does the queen, surrounded as she is by such devoted servants, such wise counselors, men, in short, so great by merit or position-does she deign to cast her eyes on an obscure soldier?”
Anne understood this covert reproach and was more moved than irritated by it. She had many a time felt humiliated by the self-sacrifice and disinterestedness shown by the Gascon gentleman. She had allowed herself to be exceeded in generosity.
“All that you tell me of those by whom I am surrounded, Monsieur d’Artagnan, is doubtless true,” said the queen, “but I have confidence in you alone. I know that you belong to the cardinal, but belong to me as well, and I will take upon myself the making of your fortune. Come, will you do to-day what formerly the gentleman you do not know did for the queen?”
“I will do everything your majesty commands,” replied D’Artagnan.
The queen reflected for a moment and then, seeing the cautious demeanor of the musketeer:
“Perhaps you like repose?” she said.
“I do not know, for I have never had it, madame.”
“Have you any friends?”
“I had three, two of whom have left Paris, to go I know not where. One alone is left to me, but he is one of those known, I believe, to the cavalier of whom your majesty did me the honor to speak.”
“Very good,” said the queen; “you and your friend are worth an army.”
“What am I to do, madame?”
“Return at five o’clock and I will tell you; but do not breathe to a living soul, sir, the rendezvous which I give you.”
“No, madame.”
“Swear it upon the cross.”
“Madame, I have never been false to my word; when I say I will not do a thing, I mean it.”
The queen, although astonished at this language, to which she was not accustomed from her courtiers, argued from it a happy omen of the zeal with which D’Artagnan would serve her in the accomplishment of her project. It was one of the Gascon’s artifices to hide his deep cunning occasionally under an appearance of rough loyalty.
“Has the queen any further commands for me now?” asked D’Artagnan.
“No, sir,” replied Anne of Austria, “and you may retire until the time that I mentioned to you.”
D’Artagnan bowed and went out.
“Diable!” he exclaimed when the door was shut, “they seem to have the greatest need of me just now.”
Then, as the half hour had already glided by, he crossed the gallery and knocked at the cardinal’s door.
Bernouin introduced him.
“I come for your commands, my lord,” he said.
And according to his custom D’Artagnan glanced rapidly around and remarked that Mazarin had a sealed letter before him. But it was so placed on the desk that he could not see to whom it was addressed.
“You come from the queen?” said Mazarin, looking fixedly at D’Artagnan.
“I! my lord-who told you that?”
“Nobody, but I know it.”
“I regret infinitely to tell you, my lord, that you are mistaken,” replied the Gascon, impudently, firm to the promise he had just made to Anne of Austria.
“I opened the door of the ante-room myself and I saw you enter at the end of the corridor.”
“Because I was shown up the private stairs.”
“How so?”
“I know not; it must have been a mistake.”
Mazarin was aware that it was not easy to make D’Artagnan reveal anything he was desirous of hiding, so he gave up, for the time, the discovery of the mystery the Gascon was concealing.
“Let us speak of my affairs,” said Mazarin, “since you will tell me naught of yours. Are you fond of traveling?”
“My life has been passed on the high road.”
“Would anything retain you particularly in Paris?”
“Nothing but an order from a superior would retain me in Paris.”
“Very well. Here is a letter, which must be taken to its address.”
“To its address, my lord? But it has none.”
In fact, the side of the letter opposite the seal was blank.
“I must tell you,” resumed Mazarin, “that it is in a double envelope.”
“I understand; and I am to take off the first one when I have reached a certain place?”
“Just so, take it and go. You have a friend, Monsieur du Vallon, whom I like much; let him accompany you.”
“The devil!” said D’Artagnan to himself. “He knows that we overheard his conversation yesterday and he wants to get us away from Paris.”
“Do you hesitate?” asked Mazarin.
“No, my lord, and I will set out at once. There is one thing only which I must request.”
“What is it? Speak.”
“That your eminence will go at once to the queen.”
“What for?”
“Merely to say these words: ‘I am going to send Monsieur d’Artagnan away and I wish him to set out directly.’”
“I told you,” said Mazarin, “that you had seen the queen.”
“I had the honor of saying to your eminence that there had been some mistake.”
“What is the meaning of that?”
“May I venture to repeat my prayer to your eminence?”
“Very well; I will go. Wait here for me.” And looking attentively around him, to see if he had left any of his keys in his closets, Mazarin went out. Ten minutes elapsed, during which D’Artagnan made every effort to read through the first envelope what was written on the second. But he did not succeed.
Mazarin returned, pale, and evidently thoughtful. He seated himself at his desk and D’Artagnan proceeded to examine his face, as he had just examined the letter he held, but the envelope which covered his countenance appeared as impenetrable as that which covered the letter.
“Ah!” thought the Gascon; “he looks displeased. Can it be with me? He meditates. Is it about sending me to the Bastile? All very fine, my lord, but at the very first hint you give of such a thing I will strangle you and become Frondist. I should be carried home in triumph like Monsieur Broussel and Athos would proclaim me the French Brutus. It would be exceedingly droll.”
The Gascon, with his vivid imagination, had already seen the advantage to be derived from his situation. Mazarin gave, however, no order of the kind, but on the contrary began to be insinuating.
“You were right,” he said, “my dear Monsieur d’Artagnan, and you cannot set out yet. I beg you to return me that dispatch.”
D’Artagnan obeyed, and Mazarin ascertained that the seal was intact.
“I shall want you this evening,” he said “Return in two hours.”
“My lord,” said D’Artagnan, “I have an appointment in two hours which I cannot miss.”
“Do not be uneasy,” said Mazarin; “it is the same.”
“Good!” thought D’Artagnan; “I fancied it was so.”
“Return, then, at five o’clock and bring that worthy Monsieur du Vallon with you. Only, leave him in the ante-room, as I wish to speak to you alone.”
D’Artagnan bowed, and thought: “Both at the same hour; both commands alike; both at the Palais Royal. Monsieur de Gondy would pay a hundred thousand francs for such a secret!”
“You are thoughtful,” said Mazarin, uneasily.
“Yes, I was thinking whether we ought to come armed or not.”
“Armed to the teeth!” replied Mazarin.
“Very well, my lord; it shall be so.”
D’Artagnan saluted, went out and hastened to repeat to his friend Mazarin’s flattering promises, which gave Porthos an indescribable happiness.
51. The Flight
When D’Artagnan returned to the Palais Royal at five o’clock, it presented, in spite of the excitement which reigned in the town, a spectacle of the greatest rejoicing. Nor was that surprising. The queen had restored Broussel and Blancmesnil to the people and had therefore nothing to fear, since the people had nothing more just then to ask for. The return, also, of the conqueror of Lens was the pretext for giving a grand banquet. The princes and princesses were invited and their carriages had crowded the court since noon; then after dinner the queen was to have a play in her apartment. Anne of Austria had never appeared more brilliant than on that day-radiant with grace and wit. Mazarin disappeared as they rose from table. He found D’Artagnan waiting for him already at his post in the ante-room.
The cardinal advanced to him with a smile and taking him by the hand led him into his study.
“My dear M. d’Artagnan,” said the minister, sitting down, “I am about to give you the greatest proof of confidence that a minister can give an officer.”
“I hope,” said D’Artagnan, bowing, “that you give it, my lord, without hesitation and with the conviction that I am worthy of it.”
“More worthy than any one in Paris my dear friend; therefore I apply to you. We are about to leave this evening,” continued Mazarin. “My dear M. d’Artagnan, the welfare of the state is deposited in your hands.” He paused.
“Explain yourself, my lord, I am listening.”
“The queen has resolved to make a little excursion with the king to Saint Germain.”
“Aha!” said D’Artagnan, “that is to say, the queen wishes to leave Paris.”
“A woman’s caprice-you understand.”
“Yes, I understand perfectly,” said D’Artagnan.
“It was for this she summoned you this morning and that she told you to return at five o’clock.”
“Was it worth while to wish me to swear this morning that I would mention the appointment to no one?” muttered D’Artagnan. “Oh, women! women! whether queens or not, they are always the same.”
“Do you disapprove of this journey, my dear M. d’Artagnan?” asked Mazarin, anxiously.
“I, my lord?” said D’Artagnan; “why should I?”
“Because you shrug your shoulders.”
“It is a way I have of speaking to myself. I neither approve nor disapprove, my lord; I merely await your commands.”
“Good; it is you, accordingly, that I have pitched upon to conduct the king and the queen to Saint Germain.”
“Liar!” thought D’Artagnan.
“You see, therefore,” continued the cardinal, perceiving D’Artagnan’s composure, “that, as I have told you, the welfare of the state is placed in your hands.”
“Yes, my lord, and I feel the whole responsibility of such a charge.”
“You accept, however?”
“I always accept.”
“Do you think the thing possible?”
“Everything is possible.”
“Shall you be attacked on the road?”
“Probably.”
“And what will you do in that case?”
“I shall pass through those who attack me.”
“And suppose you cannot pass through them?”
“So much the worse for them; I shall pass over them.”
“And you will place the king and queen in safety also, at Saint Germain?”
“Yes.”
“On your life?”
“On my life.”
“You are a hero, my friend,” said Mazarin, gazing at the musketeer with admiration.
D’Artagnan smiled.
“And I?” asked Mazarin, after a moment’s silence.
“How? and you, my lord?”
“If I wish to leave?”
“That would be much more difficult.”
“Why so?”
“Your eminence might be recognized.”
“Even under this disguise?” asked Mazarin, raising a cloak which covered an arm-chair, upon which lay a complete dress for an officer, of pearl-gray and red, entirely embroidered with silver.
“If your eminence is disguised it will be almost easy.”
“Ah!” said Mazarin, breathing more freely.
“But it will be necessary for your eminence to do what the other day you declared you should have done in our place-cry, ‘Down with Mazarin!’”
“I will: ‘Down with Mazarin’”
“In French, in good French, my lord, take care of your accent; they killed six thousand Angevins in Sicily because they pronounced Italian badly. Take care that the French do not take their revenge on you for the Sicilian vespers.”
“I will do my best.”
“The streets are full of armed men,” continued D’Artagnan. “Are you sure that no one is aware of the queen’s project?”
Mazarin reflected.
“This affair would give a fine opportunity for a traitor, my lord; the chance of being attacked would be an excuse for everything.”
Mazarin shuddered, but he reflected that a man who had the least intention to betray would not warn first.
“And therefore,” added he, quietly, “I have not confidence in every one; the proof of which is, that I have fixed upon you to escort me.”
“Shall you not go with the queen?”
“No,” replied Mazarin.
“Then you will start after the queen?”
“No,” said Mazarin again.
“Ah!” said D’Artagnan, who began to understand.
“Yes,” continued the cardinal. “I have my plan. With the queen I double her risk; after the queen her departure would double mine; then, the court once safe, I might be forgotten. The great are often ungrateful.”
“Very true,” said D’Artagnan, fixing his eyes, in spite of himself, on the queen’s diamond, which Mazarin wore on his finger. Mazarin followed the direction of his eyes and gently turned the hoop of the ring inside.
“I wish,” he said, with his cunning smile, “to prevent them from being ungrateful to me.”
“It is but Christian charity,” replied D’Artagnan, “not to lead one’s neighbors into temptation.”
“It is exactly for that reason,” said Mazarin, “that I wish to start before them.”
D’Artagnan smiled-he was just the man to understand the astute Italian. Mazarin saw the smile and profited by the moment.
“You will begin, therefore, by taking me first out of Paris, will you not, my dear M. d’Artagnan?”
“A difficult commission, my lord,” replied D’Artagnan, resuming his serious manner.
“But,” said Mazarin, “you did not make so many difficulties with regard to the king and queen.”
“The king and the queen are my king and queen,” replied the musketeer, “my life is theirs and I must give it for them. If they ask it what have I to say?”
“That is true,” murmured Mazarin, in a low tone, “but as thy life is not mine I suppose I must buy it, must I not?” and sighing deeply he began to turn the hoop of his ring outside again. D’Artagnan smiled. These two men met at one point and that was, cunning; had they been actuated equally by courage, the one would have done great things for the other.
“But, also,” said Mazarin, “you must understand that if I ask this service from you it is with the intention of being grateful.”
“Is it still only an intention, your eminence?” asked D’Artagnan.
“Stay,” said Mazarin, drawing the ring from his finger, “my dear D’Artagnan, there is a diamond which belonged to you formerly, it is but just it should return to you; take it, I pray.”
D’Artagnan spared Mazarin the trouble of insisting, and after looking to see if the stone was the same and assuring himself of the purity of its water, he took it and passed it on his finger with indescribable pleasure.
“I valued it much,” said Mazarin, giving a last look at it; “nevertheless, I give it to you with great pleasure.”
“And I, my lord,” said D’Artagnan, “accept it as it is given. Come, let us speak of your little affairs. You wish to leave before everybody and at what hour?”
“At ten o’clock.”
“And the queen, at what time is it her wish to start?”
“At midnight.”
“Then it is possible. I can get you out of Paris and leave you beyond the barriere, and can return for her.”
“Capital; but how will you get me out of Paris?”
“Oh! as to that, you must leave it to me.”
“I give you absolute power, therefore; take as large an escort as you like.”
D’Artagnan shook his head.
“It seems to me, however,” said Mazarin, “the safest method.”
“Yes, for you, my lord, but not for the queen; you must leave it to me and give me the entire direction of the undertaking.”
“Nevertheless-”
“Or find some one else,” continued D’Artagnan, turning his back.
“Oh!” muttered Mazarin, “I do believe he is going off with the diamond! M. d’Artagnan, my dear M. d’Artagnan,” he called out in a coaxing voice, “will you answer for everything?”
“I will answer for nothing. I will do my best.”
“Well, then, let us go-I must trust to you.”
“It is very fortunate,” said D’Artagnan to himself.
“You will be here at half-past nine.”
“And I shall find your eminence ready?”
“Certainly, quite ready.”
“Well, then, it is a settled thing; and now, my lord, will you obtain for me an audience with the queen?”
“For what purpose?”
“I wish to receive her majesty’s commands from her own lips.”
“She desired me to give them to you.”
“She may have forgotten something.”
“You really wish to see her?”
“It is indispensable, my lord.”
Mazarin hesitated for one instant, but D’Artagnan was firm.
“Come, then,” said the minister; “I will conduct you to her, but remember, not one word of our conversation.”
“What has passed between us concerns ourselves alone, my lord,” replied D’Artagnan.
“Swear to be mute.”
“I never swear, my lord, I say yes or no; and, as I am a gentleman, I keep my word.”
“Come, then, I see that I must trust unreservedly to you.”
“Believe me, my lord, it will be your best plan.”
“Come,” said Mazarin, conducting D’Artagnan into the queen’s oratory and desiring him to wait there. He did not wait long, for in five minutes the queen entered in full gala costume. Thus dressed she scarcely appeared thirty-five years of age. She was still exceedingly handsome.
“It is you, Monsieur D’Artagnan,” she said, smiling graciously; “I thank you for having insisted on seeing me.”
“I ought to ask your majesty’s pardon, but I wished to receive your commands from your own mouth.”
“Do you accept the commission which I have intrusted to you?”
“With gratitude.”
“Very well, be here at midnight.”
“I will not fail.”
“Monsieur d’Artagnan,” continued the queen, “I know your disinterestedness too well to speak of my own gratitude at such a moment, but I swear to you that I shall not forget this second service as I forgot the first.”
“Your majesty is free to forget or to remember, as it pleases you; and I know not what you mean,” said D’Artagnan, bowing.
“Go, sir,” said the queen, with her most bewitching smile, “go and return at midnight.”
And D’Artagnan retired, but as he passed out he glanced at the curtain through which the queen had entered and at the bottom of the tapestry he remarked the tip of a velvet slipper.
“Good,” thought he; “Mazarin has been listening to discover whether I betrayed him. In truth, that Italian puppet does not deserve the services of an honest man.”
D’Artagnan was not less exact to his appointment and at half-past nine o’clock he entered the ante-room.
He found the cardinal dressed as an officer, and he looked very well in that costume, which, as we have already said, he wore elegantly; only he was very pale and trembled slightly.
“Quite alone?” he asked.
“Yes, my lord.”
“And that worthy Monsieur du Vallon, are we not to enjoy his society?”
“Certainly, my lord; he is waiting in his carriage at the gate of the garden of the Palais Royal.”
“And we start in his carriage, then?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“And with us no other escort but you two?”
“Is it not enough? One of us would suffice.”
“Really, my dear Monsieur d’Artagnan,” said the cardinal, “your coolness startles me.”
“I should have thought, on the contrary, that it ought to have inspired you with confidence.”
“And Bernouin-do I not take him with me?”
“There is no room for him, he will rejoin your eminence.”
“Let us go,” said Mazarin, “since everything must be done as you wish.”
“My lord, there is time to draw back,” said D’Artagnan, “and your eminence is perfectly free.”
“Not at all, not at all,” said Mazarin; “let us be off.”
And so they descended the private stair, Mazarin leaning on the arm of D’Artagnan a hand the musketeer felt trembling. At last, after crossing the courts of the Palais Royal, where there still remained some of the conveyances of late guests, they entered the garden and reached the little gate. Mazarin attempted to open it by a key which he took from his pocket, but with such shaking fingers that he could not find the keyhole.
“Give it to me,” said D’Artagnan, who when the gate was open deposited the key in his pocket, reckoning upon returning by that gate.
The steps were already down and the door open. Mousqueton stood at the door and Porthos was inside the carriage.
“Mount, my lord,” said D’Artagnan to Mazarin, who sprang into the carriage without waiting for a second bidding. D’Artagnan followed him, and Mousqueton, having closed the door, mounted behind the carriage with many groans. He had made some difficulties about going, under pretext that he still suffered from his wound, but D’Artagnan had said to him:
“Remain if you like, my dear Monsieur Mouston, but I warn you that Paris will be burnt down to-night;” upon which Mousqueton had declared, without asking anything further, that he was ready to follow his master and Monsieur d’Artagnan to the end of the world.
The carriage started at a measured pace, without betraying by the slightest sign that it contained people in a hurry. The cardinal wiped his forehead with his handkerchief and looked around him. On his left was Porthos, whilst D’Artagnan was on his right; each guarded a door and served as a rampart to him on either side. Before him, on the front seat, lay two pairs of pistols-one in front of Porthos and the other of D’Artagnan. About a hundred paces from the Palais Royal a patrol stopped the carriage.
“Who goes?” asked the captain.
“Mazarin!” replied D’Artagnan, bursting into a laugh. The cardinal’s hair stood on end. But the joke appeared an excellent one to the citizens, who, seeing the conveyance without escort and unarmed, would never have believed in the possibility of so great an imprudence.