The Presentation of Porthos at Court.
At seven o'clock the same evening, the king gave an audience to an ambassador from the United Provinces, in the grand reception-room. The audience lasted a quarter of an hour. His majesty afterwards received those who had been recently presented, together with a few ladies, who paid their respects first. In one corner of the salon, concealed behind a column, Porthos and D'Artagnan were conversing together, waiting until their turn arrived.
"Have you heard the news?" inquired the musketeer of his friend.
"No!"
"Well, look, then." Porthos raised himself on tiptoe, and saw M. Fouquet in full court dress, leading Aramis towards the king.
"Aramis!" said Porthos.
"Presented to the king by M. Fouquet."
"Ah!" ejaculated Porthos.
"For having fortified Belle-Isle," continued D'Artagnan.
"And I?"
"You - oh, you! as I have already had the honor of telling you, are the goodnatured, kind-hearted Porthos; and so they begged you to take care of SaintMande a little."
"Ah!" repeated Porthos.
"But, happily, I was there," said D'Artagnan, "and presently it will be my turn." At this moment Fouquet addressed the king.
"Sire," he said, "I have a favor to solicit of your majesty. M. d'Herblay is not ambitious, but he knows when he can be of service. Your majesty needs a representative at Rome, who would be able to exercise a powerful influence there; may I request a cardinal's hat for M. d'Herblay?" The king started. "I do not often solicit anything of your majesty," said Fouquet.
"That is a reason, certainly," replied the king, who always expressed any hesitation he might have in that manner, and to which remark there was nothing to say in reply.
Fouquet and Aramis looked at each other. The king resumed: "M. d'Herblay can serve us equally well in France; an archbishopric, for instance."
"Sire," objected Fouquet, with a grace of manner peculiarly his own, "your majesty overwhelms M. d'Herblay; the archbishopric may, in your majesty's extreme kindness, be conferred in addition to the hat; the one does not exclude the other."
The king admired the readiness which he displayed, and smiled, saying: "D'Artagnan himself could not have answered better." He had no sooner pronounced the name than D'Artagnan appeared.
"Did your majesty call me?" he said.
Aramis and Fouquet drew back a step, as if they were about to retire. "Will your majesty allow me," said D'Artagnan quickly, as he led forward Porthos, "to present to your majesty M. le Baron du Vallon, one of the bravest gentlemen of France?"
As soon as Aramis saw Porthos, he turned as pale as death, while Fouquet clenched his hands under his ruffles. D'Artagnan smiled blandly at both of them, while Porthos bowed, visibly overcome before the royal presence. "Porthos here?" murmured Fouquet in Aramis's ear.
"Hush! deep treachery at work," hissed the latter.
"Sire," said D'Artagnan, "it is more than six years ago I ought to have presented M. du Vallon to your majesty; but certain men resemble stars, they move not one inch unless their satellites accompany them. The Pleiades are never disunited, and that is the reason I have selected, for the purpose of presenting him to you, the very moment when you would see M. d'Herblay by his side."
Aramis almost lost countenance. He looked at D'Artagnan with a proud, haughty air, as though willing to accept the defiance the latter seemed to throw down. "Ah! these gentlemen are good friends, then?" said the king.
"Excellent friends, sire; the one can answer for the other. Ask M. de Vannes now in what manner Belle-Isle was fortified?" Fouquet moved back a step. "Belle-Isle," said Aramis, coldly, "was fortified by that gentleman," and he indicated Porthos with his hand, who bowed a second time. Louis could not withhold his admiration, though at the same time his suspicions were aroused. "Yes," said D'Artagnan, "but ask monsieur le baron whose assistance he had in carrying the works out?"
"Aramis's," said Porthos, frankly; and he pointed to the bishop.
"What the deuce does all this mean?" thought the bishop, "and what sort of a termination are we to expect to this comedy?"
"What!" exclaimed the king, "is the cardinal's, I mean this bishop's, name Aramis?"
"His nom de guerre," said D'Artagnan.
"My nickname," said Aramis.
"A truce to modesty!" exclaimed D'Artagnan; "beneath the priest's robe, sire, is concealed the most brilliant officer, a gentleman of the most unparalleled intrepidity, and the wisest theologian in your kingdom."
Louis raised his head. "And an engineer, also, it appears," he said, admiring Aramis's calm, imperturbable self-possession.
"An engineer for a particular purpose, sire," said the latter.
"My companion in the musketeers, sire," said D'Artagnan, with great warmth of manner, "the man who has more than a hundred times aided your father's ministers by his advice - M. d'Herblay, in a word, who, with M. du Vallon, myself, and M. le Comte de la Fere, who is known to your majesty, formed that quartette which was a good deal talked about during the late king's reign, and during your majesty's minority."
"And who fortified Belle-Isle?" the king repeated, in a significant tone. Aramis advanced and bowed: "In order to serve the son as I served the father." D'Artagnan looked very narrowly at Aramis while he uttered these words, which displayed so much true respect, so much warm devotion, such entire frankness and sincerity, that even he, D'Artagnan, the eternal doubter, he, the almost infallible in judgment, was deceived by it. "A man who lies cannot speak in such a tone as that," he said.
Louis was overcome by it. "In that case," he said to Fouquet, who anxiously awaited the result of this proof, "the cardinal's hat is promised. Monsieur d'Herblay, I pledge you my honor that the first promotion shall be yours. Thank M. Fouquet for it." Colbert overheard these words; they stung him to the quick, and he left the salon abruptly. "And you, Monsieur du Vallon," said the king, "what have you to ask? I am truly pleased to have it in my power to acknowledge the services of those who were faithful to my father."
"Sire - " began Porthos, but he was unable to proceed with what he was going to say.
"Sire," exclaimed D'Artagnan, "this worthy gentleman is utterly overpowered by your majesty's presence, he who so valiantly sustained the looks and the fire of a thousand foes. But, knowing what his thoughts are, I - who am more accustomed to gaze upon the sun - can translate them: he needs nothing, absolutely nothing; his sole desire is to have the happiness of gazing upon your majesty for a quarter of an hour."
"You shall sup with me this evening," said the king, saluting Porthos with a gracious smile.
Porthos became crimson from delight and pride. The king dismissed him, and D'Artagnan pushed him into the adjoining apartment, after he had embraced him warmly.
"Sit next to me at table," said Porthos in his ear.
"Yes, my friend."
"Aramis is annoyed with me, I think."
"Aramis has never liked you so much as he does now. Fancy, it was I who was the means of his getting the cardinal's hat."
"Of course," said Porthos. "By the by, does the king like his guests to eat much at his table?"
"It is a compliment to himself if you do," said D'Artagnan, "for he himself possesses a royal appetite."
Explanations.
Aramis cleverly managed to effect a diversion for the purpose of finding D'Artagnan and Porthos. He came up to the latter, behind one of the columns, and, as he pressed his hand, said, "So you have escaped from my prison?" "Do not scold him," said D'Artagnan; "it was I, dear Aramis, who set him free." "Ah! my friend," replied Aramis, looking at Porthos, "could you not have waited with a little more patience?"
D'Artagnan came to the assistance of Porthos, who already began to breathe hard, in sore perplexity.
"You see, you members of the Church are great politicians; we mere soldiers come at once to the point. The facts are these: I went to pay Baisemeaux a visit - "
Aramis pricked up his ears at this announcement.
"Stay!" said Porthos; "you make me remember that I have a letter from Baisemeaux for you, Aramis." And Porthos held out the bishop the letter we have already seen. Aramis begged to be allowed to read it, and read it without D'Artagnan feeling in the slightest degree embarrassed by the circumstance that he was so well acquainted with the contents of it. Besides, Aramis's face was so impenetrable, that D'Artagnan could not but admire him more than ever; after he had read it, he put the letter into his pocket with the calmest possible air. "You were saying, captain?" he observed.
"I was saying," continued the musketeer, "that I had gone to pay Baisemeaux a visit on his majesty's service."
"On his majesty's service?" said Aramis.
"Yes," said D'Artagnan, "and, naturally enough, we talked about you and our friends. I must say that Baisemeaux received me coldly; so I soon took my leave of him. As I was returning, a soldier accosted me, and said (no doubt as he recognized me, notwithstanding I was in private clothes), 'Captain, will you be good enough to read me the name written on this envelope?' and I read, 'To Monsieur du Vallon, at M. Fouquet's house, Saint-Mande.' The deuce, I said to myself, Porthos has not returned, then, as I fancied, to Bell-Isle, or to Pierrefonds, but is at M. Fouquet's house, at Saint-Mande; and as M. Fouquet is not at Saint- Mande, Porthos must be quite alone, or, at all events, with Aramis; I will go and see Porthos, and I accordingly went to see Porthos."
"Very good," said Aramis, thoughtfully.
"You never told me that," said Porthos.
"I had no time, my friend."
"And you brought back Porthos with you to Fontainebleau?"
"Yes, to Planchet's house."
"Does Planchet live at Fontainebleau?" inquired Aramis.
"Yes, near the cemetery," said Porthos, thoughtlessly.
"What do you mean by 'near the cemetery?'" said Aramis, suspiciously. "Come," thought the musketeer, "since there is to be a squabble, let us take advantage of it."
"Yes, the cemetery," said Porthos. "Planchet is a very excellent fellow, who makes very excellent preserves; but his house has windows which look out upon the cemetery. And a confoundedly melancholy prospect it is! So this morning - " "This morning?" said Aramis, more and more excited.
D'Artagnan turned his back to them, and walked to the window, where he began to play a march upon one of the panes of glass.
"Yes, this morning we saw a man buried there."
"Ah!"
"Very depressing, was it not? I should never be able to live in a house where burials can always be seen from the window. D'Artagnan, on the contrary, seems to like it very much."
"So D'Artagnan saw it as well?"
"Not simply saw it; he literally never took his eyes off the whole time." Aramis started, and turned to look at the musketeer, but the latter was engaged in earnest conversation with Saint-Aignan. Aramis continued to question Porthos, and when he had squeezed all the juice out of this enormous lemon, he threw the peel aside. He turned towards his friend D'Artagnan, and clapping him on the shoulder, when Saint-Aignan had left him, the king's supper having been announced, said, "D'Artagnan."
"Yes, my dear fellow," he replied.
"We do not sup with his majesty, I believe?"
"Well? - we do."
"Can you give me ten minutes' conversation?"
"Twenty, if you like. His majesty will take quite that time to get properly seated at table."
"Where shall we talk, then?"
"Here, upon these seats if you like; the king has left, we can sit down, and the apartment is empty."
"Let us sit down, then."
They sat down, and Aramis took one of D'Artagnan's hands in his.
"Tell me, candidly, my dear friend, whether you have not counseled Porthos to distrust me a little?"
"I admit, I have, but not as you understand it. I saw that Porthos was bored to death, and I wished, by presenting him to the king, to do for him, and for you, what you would never do for yourselves."
"What is that?"
"Speak in your own praise."
"And you have done it most nobly; I thank you."
"And I brought the cardinal's hat a little nearer, just as it seemed to be retreating from you."
"Ah! I admit that," said Aramis, with a singular smile, "you are, indeed, not to be matched for making your friends' fortunes for them."
"You see, then, that I only acted with the view of making Porthos's fortune for him."
"I meant to have done that myself; but your arm reaches farther than ours." It was now D'Artagnan's turn to smile.
"Come," said Aramis, "we ought to deal truthfully with each other. Do you still love me, D'Artagnan?"
"The same as I used to do," replied D'Artagnan, without compromising himself too much by this reply.
"In that case, thanks; and now, for the most perfect frankness," said Aramis; "you visited Belle-Isle on behalf of the king?"
"Pardieu!"
"You wished to deprive us of the pleasure of offering Bell-Isle completely fortified to the king."
"But before I could deprive you of that pleasure, I ought to have been made acquainted with your intention of doing so."
"You came to Belle-Isle without knowing anything?"
"Of you! yes. How the devil could I imagine that Aramis had become so clever an engineer as to be able to fortify like Polybius, or Archimedes?"
"True. And yet you smelt me out over yonder?"
"Oh! yes."
"And Porthos, too?"
"I did not divine that Aramis was an engineer. I was only able to guess that Porthos might have become one. There is a saying, one becomes an orator, one is born a poet; but it has never been said, one is born Porthos, and one becomes an engineer."
"Your wit is always amusing," said Aramis, coldly.
"Well, I will go on."
"Do. When you found out our secret, you made all the haste you could to communicate it to the king."
"I certainly made as much haste as I could, since I saw that you were making still more. When a man weighing two hundred and fifty pounds, as Porthos does, rides post; when a gouty prelate - I beg your pardon, but you yourself told me you were so - when a prelate scours the highway - I naturally suppose that my two friends, who did not wish to be communicative with me, had certain matters of the highest importance to conceal from me, and so I made as much haste as my leanness and the absence of gout would allow."
"Did it not occur to you, my dear friend, that you might be rendering Porthos and myself a very sad service?"
"Yes, I thought it not unlikely; but you and Porthos made me play a very ridiculous part at Belle-Isle."
"I beg your pardon," said Aramis.
"Excuse me," said D'Artagnan.
"So that," pursued Aramis, "you now know everything?"
"No, indeed."
"You know I was obliged to inform M. Fouquet of what had happened, in order that he would be able to anticipate what you might have to tell the king?" "That is rather obscure."
"Not at all: M. Fouquet has his enemies - you will admit that, I suppose." "Certainly."
"And one in particular."
"A dangerous one?"
"A mortal enemy. Well, in order to counteract that man's influence, it was necessary that M. Fouquet should give the king a proof of his great devotion to him, and of his readiness to make the greatest sacrifices. He surprised his majesty by offering him Belle-Isle. If you had been the first to reach Paris, the surprise would have been destroyed, it would have looked as if we had yielded to fear."
"I understand."
"That is the whole mystery," said Aramis, satisfied that he had at last quite convinced the musketeer.
"Only," said the latter, "it would have been more simple to have taken me aside, and said to me, 'My dear D'Artagnan, we are fortifying Belle-Isle, and intend to offer it to the king. Tell us frankly, for whom you are acting. Are you a friend of M. Colbert, or of M. Fouquet?' Perhaps I should not have answered you, but you would have added, - 'Are you my friend?' I should have said 'Yes.'" Aramis hung down his head. "In this way," continued D'Artagnan, "you would have paralyzed my movements, and I should have gone to the king, and said, 'Sire, M. Fouquet is fortifying Belle-Isle, and exceedingly well, too; but here is a note, which the governor of Belle-Isle gave me for your majesty;' or, 'M. Fouquet is about to wait upon your majesty to explain his intentions with regard to it.' I should not have been placed in an absurd position; you would have enjoyed the surprise so long planned, and we should not have had any occasion to look askant at each other when we met."
"While, on the contrary," replied Aramis, "you have acted altogether as one friendly to M. Colbert. And you really are a friend of his, I suppose?" "Certainly not, indeed!" exclaimed the captain. "M. Colbert is a mean fellow, and I hate him as I used to hate Mazarin, but without fearing him."
"Well, then," said Aramis, "I love M. Fouquet, and his interests are mine. You know my position. I have no property or means whatever. M. Fouquet gave me several livings, a bishopric as well; M. Fouquet has served and obliged me like the generous-hearted man he is, and I know the world sufficiently well to appreciate a kindness when I meet with one. M. Fouquet has won my regard, and I have devoted myself to his service."
"You could not possibly do better. You will find him a very liberal master." Aramis bit his lips; and then said, "The best a man could possibly have." He then paused for a minute, D'Artagnan taking good care not to interrupt him. "I suppose you know how Porthos got mixed up in all this?"
"No," said D'Artagnan; "I am curious, of course, but I never question a friend when he wishes to keep a secret from me."
"Well, then, I will tell you."
"It is hardly worth the trouble, if the confidence is to bind me in any way." "Oh! do not be afraid.; there is no man whom I love better than Porthos, because he is so simple-minded and good-natured. Porthos is so straightforward in everything. Since I have become a bishop, I have looked for these primeval natures, which make me love truth and hate intrigue."
D'Artagnan stroked his mustache, but said nothing.
"I saw Porthos and again cultivated his acquaintance; his own time hanging idly on his hands, his presence recalled my earlier and better days without engaging me in any present evil. I sent for Porthos to come to Vannes. M. Fouquet, whose regard for me is very great, having learnt that Porthos and I were attached to each other by old ties of friendship, promised him increase of rank at the earliest promotion, and that is the whole secret."
"I shall not abuse your confidence," said D'Artagnan.
"I am sure of that, my dear friend; no one has a finer sense of honor than yourself."
"I flatter myself that you are right, Aramis."
"And now" - and here the prelate looked searchingly and scrutinizingly at his friend - "now let us talk of ourselves and for ourselves; will you become one of M. Fouquet's friends? Do not interrupt me until you know what that means." "Well, I am listening."
"Will you become a marechal of France, peer, duke, and the possessor of a duchy, with a million of francs?"
"But, my friend," replied D'Artagnan, "what must one do to get all that?" "Belong to M. Fouquet."
"But I already belong to the king."
"Not exclusively, I suppose."
"Oh! a D'Artagnan cannot be divided."
"You have, I presume, ambitions, as noble hearts like yours have." "Yes, certainly I have."
"Well?"
"Well! I wish to be a marechal; the king will make me marechal, duke, peer; the king will make me all that."
Aramis fixed a searching look upon D'Artagnan.
"Is not the king master?" said D'Artagnan.
"No one disputes it; but Louis XIII. was master also."
"Oh! my dear friend, between Richelieu and Louis XIII. stood no D'Artagnan," said the musketeer, very quietly.
"There are many stumbling-blocks round the king," said Aramis.
"Not for the king's feet."
"Very likely not; still - "
"One moment, Aramis; I observe that every one thinks of himself, and never of his poor prince; I will maintain myself maintaining him."
"And if you meet with ingratitude?"
"The weak alone are afraid of that."
"You are quite certain of yourself?"
"I think so."
"Still, the king may some day have no further need for you!"
"On the contrary, I think his need of me will soon be greater than ever; and hearken, my dear fellow, if it became necessary to arrest a new Conde, who would do it? This - this alone in France!" and D'Artagnan struck his sword, which clanked sullenly on the tesselated floor.
"You are right," said Aramis, turning very pale; and then he rose and pressed D'Artagnan's hand.
"That is the last summons for supper," said the captain of the musketeers; "will you excuse me?"
Aramis threw his arm round the musketeer's neck, and said, "A friend like you is the brightest jewel in the royal crown." And they immediately separated. "I was right," mused D'Artagnan; "there is, indeed, something strangely serious stirring."
"We must hasten the explosion," breathed the coming cardinal, "for D'Artagnan has discovered the existence of a plot."
Madame and De Guiche.
It will not be forgotten how Comte de Guiche left the queen-mother's apartments on the day when Louis XIV. presented La Valliere with the beautiful bracelets he had won in the lottery. The comte walked to and fro for some time outside the palace, in the greatest distress, from a thousand suspicions and anxieties with which his mind was beset. Presently he stopped and waited on the terrace opposite the grove of trees, watching for Madame's departure. More than half an hour passed away; and as he was at that moment quite alone, the comte could hardly have had any very diverting ideas at his command. He drew his tables from his pocket, and, after hesitating over and over again, determined to write these words: - "Madame, I implore you to grant me one moment's conversation. Do not be alarmed at this request, which contains nothing in any way opposed to the profound respect with which I subscribe myself, etc., etc." He had signed and folded this singular love-letter, when he suddenly observed several ladies leaving the chateau, and afterwards several courtiers too; in fact, almost every one that formed the queen's circle. He saw La Valliere herself, then Montalais talking with Malicorne; he watched the departure of the very last of the numerous guests that had a short time before thronged the queen-mother's cabinet.
Madame herself had not yet passed; she would be obliged, however, to cross the courtyard in order to enter her own apartments; and, from the terrace where he was standing, De Guiche could see all that was going on in the courtyard. At last he saw Madame leave, attended by a couple of pages, who were carrying torches before her. She was walking very quickly; as soon as she reached the door, she said:
"Let some one go and look for De Guiche: he has to render an account of a mission he had to discharge for me; if he should be disengaged, request him to be good enough to come to my apartment."
De Guiche remained silent, hidden in the shade; but as soon as Madame had withdrawn, he darted from the terrace down the steps and assumed a most indifferent air, so that the pages who were hurrying towards his rooms might meet him.
"Ah! it is Madame, then, who is seeking me!" he said to himself, quite overcome; and he crushed in his hand the now worse than useless letter.
"M. le comte," said one of the pages, approaching him, "we are indeed most fortunate in meeting you."
"Why so, messieurs?"
"A command from Madame."
"From Madame!" said De Guiche, looking surprised.
"Yes, M. le comte, her royal highness has been asking for you; she expects to hear, she told us, the result of a commission you had to execute for her. Are you at liberty?"
"I am quite at her royal highness's orders."
"Will you have the goodness to follow us, then?"
When De Guiche entered the princess's apartments, he found her pale and agitated. Montalais was standing at the door, evidently uneasy about what was passing in her mistress's mind. De Guiche appeared.
"Ah! is that you, Monsieur de Guiche?" said Madame; "come in, I beg. Mademoiselle de Montalais, I do not require your attendance any longer." Montalais, more puzzled than ever, courtesied and withdrew. De Guiche and the princess were left alone. The come had every advantage in his favor; it was Madame who had summoned him to a rendezvous. But how was it possible for the comte to make use of this advantage? Madame was so whimsical, and her disposition so changeable. She soon allowed this to be perceived, for, suddenly, opening the conversation, she said: "Well! have you nothing to say to me?" He imagined she must have guessed his thoughts; he fancied (for those who are in love are thus constituted, being as credulous and blind as poets or prophets), he fancied she knew how ardent was his desire to see her, and also the subject uppermost in his mind.
"Yes, Madame," he said, "and I think it very singular."
"The affair of the bracelets," she exclaimed, eagerly, "you mean that, I suppose?" "Yes, Madame."
"And you think the king is in love; do you not?"
Guiche looked at her for some time; her eyes sank under his gaze, which seemed to read her very heart.
"I think," he said, "that the king may possibly have had an idea of annoying some one; were it not for that, the king would hardly show himself so earnest in his attentions as he is; he would not run the risk of compromising, from mere thoughtlessness of disposition, a young girl against whom no one has been hitherto able to say a word."
"Indeed! the bold, shameless girl," said the princess, haughtily.
"I can positively assure your royal highness," said De Guiche, with a firmness marked by great respect, "that Mademoiselle de la Valliere is beloved by a man who merits every respect, for he is a brave and honorable gentleman." "Bragelonne?"
"My friend; yes, Madame."
"Well, and though he is your friend, what does that matter to the king?" "The king knows that Bragelonne is affianced to Mademoiselle de la Valliere; and as Raoul has served the king most valiantly, the king will not inflict an irreparable injury upon him."
Madame began to laugh in a manner that produced a sinister impression upon De Guiche.
"I repeat, Madame, I do not believe the king is in love with Mademoiselle de la Valliere; and the proof that I do not believe it is, that I was about to ask you whose amour propre it is likely the king is desirous of wounding? You, who are well acquainted with the whole court, can perhaps assist me in ascertaining that; and assuredly, with greater certainty, since it is everywhere said that your royal highness is on very friendly terms with the king."
Madame bit her lips, and, unable to assign any good and sufficient reasons, changed the conversation. "Prove to me," she said, fixing on him one of those looks in which the whole soul seems to pass into the eyes, "prove to me, I say, that you intended to interrogate me at the very moment I sent for you." De Guiche gravely drew from his pocket the now crumpled note that he had written, and showed it to her.
"Sympathy," she said.
"Yes," said the comte, with an indescribable tenderness of tone, "sympathy. I have explained to you how and why I sought you; you, however, have yet to tell me, Madame, why you sent for me."
"True," replied the princess. She hesitated, and then suddenly exclaimed, "Those bracelets will drive me mad."
"You expected the king would offer them to you," replied De Guiche. "Why not?"
"But before you, Madame, before you, his sister-in-law, was there not the queen herself to whom the king should have offered them?"
"Before La Valliere," cried the princess, wounded to the quick, "could he not have presented them to me? Was there not the whole court, indeed, to choose from?" "I assure you, Madame," said the comte, respectfully, "that if any one heard you speak in this manner, if any one were to see how red your eyes are, and, Heaven forgive me, to see, too, that tear trembling on your eyelids, it would be said that your royal highness was jealous."
"Jealous!" said the princess, haughtily, "jealous of La Valliere!"