CHAPTER 24
The Treasure
The French gentleman whom Spithead had announced to Monk,
and who, closely wrapped in his cloak, had passed by the
fishermen who left the general's tent five minutes before he
entered it, -- the French gentleman went through the various
posts without even casting his eyes around him, for fear of
appearing indiscreet. As the order had been given, he was
conducted to the tent of the general. The gentleman was left
alone in the sort of ante-chamber in front of the principal
body of the tent, where he awaited Monk, who only delayed
till he had heard the report of his people, and observed
through the opening of the canvas the countenance of the
person who solicited an audience.
Without doubt, the report of those who had accompanied the
French gentleman established the discretion with which he
had behaved, for the first impression the stranger received
of the welcome made him by the general was more favorable
than he could have expected at such a moment, and on the
part of so suspicious a man. Nevertheless, according to his
custom, when Monk found himself in the presence of a
stranger, he fixed upon him his penetrating eyes, which
scrutiny, the stranger, on his part, sustained without
embarrassment or notice. At the end of a few seconds, the
general made a gesture with his hand and head in sign of
attention.
"My lord," said the gentleman, in excellent English. "I have
requested an interview with your honor, for an affair of
importance."
"Monsieur," replied Monk, in French, "you speak our language
well for a son of the continent. I ask your pardon -- for
doubtless the question is indiscreet -- do you speak French
with the same purity?"
"There is nothing surprising, my lord, in my speaking
English tolerably; I resided for some time in England in my
youth, and since then I have made two voyages to this
country." These words were spoken in French, and with a
purity of accent that bespoke not only a Frenchman, but a
Frenchman from the vicinity of Tours.
"And what part of England have you resided in, monsieur?"
"In my youth, London, my lord, then, about 1635, I made a
pleasure trip to Scotland; and lastly, in 1648, I lived for
some time at Newcastle, particularly in the convent, the
gardens of which are now occupied by your army."
"Excuse me, monsieur, but you must comprehend that these
questions are necessary on my part -- do you not?"
"It would astonish me, my lord, if they were not asked."
"Now, then, monsieur, what can I do to serve you? What do
you wish?"
"This, my lord; -- but, in the first place, are we alone?"
"Perfectly so, monsieur, except, of course, the post which
guards us." So saying, Monk pulled open the canvas with his
hand, and pointed to the soldier placed at ten paces from
the tent, and who, at the first call could have rendered
assistance in a second.
"In that case my lord," said the gentleman, in as calm a
tone as if he had been for a length of time in habits of
intimacy with his interlocutor, I have made up my mind to
address myself to you, because I believe you to be an honest
man. Indeed, the communication I am about to make to you
will prove to you the esteem in which I hold you."
Monk, astonished at this language, which established between
him and the French gentleman equality at least, raised his
piercing eye to the stranger's face, and with a sensible
irony conveyed by the inflection of his voice alone, for not
a muscle of his face moved, -- "I thank you, monsieur," said
he; "but, in the first place, to whom have I the honor of
speaking?"
"I sent you my name by your sergeant, my lord."
"Excuse him, monsieur, he is a Scotchman, -- he could not
retain it."
"I am called the Comte de la Fere, monsieur," said Athos,
bowing.
"The Comte de la Fere?" said Monk, endeavoring to recollect
the name. "Pardon me, monsieur, but this appears to be the
first time I have ever heard that name. Do you fill any post
at the court of France?"
"None; I am a simple gentleman."
"What dignity?"
"King Charles I. made me a knight of the Garter, and Queen
Anne of Austria has given me the cordon of the Holy Ghost.
These are my only dignities."
"The Garter! the Holy Ghost! Are you a knight of those two
orders, monsieur?"
"Yes."
"And on what occasions have such favors been bestowed upon
you?"
"For services rendered to their majesties."
Monk looked with astonishment at this man, who appeared to
him so simple and so great at the same time. Then, as if he
had renounced endeavoring to penetrate this mystery of a
simplicity and grandeur upon which the stranger did not seem
disposed to give him any other information than that which
he had already received, -- "Did you present yourself
yesterday at our advanced posts?"
"And was sent back? Yes, my lord."
"Many officers, monsieur, would permit no one to enter their
camp, particularly on the eve of a probable battle. But I
differ from my colleagues, and like to leave nothing behind
me. Every advice is good to me; all danger is sent to me by
God, and I weigh it in my hand with the energy He has given
me. So, yesterday, you were only sent back on account of the
council I was holding. To-day I am at liberty, -- speak."
"My lord, you have done much better in receiving me, for
what I have to say has nothing to do with the battle you are
about to fight with General Lambert, or with your camp; and
the proof is, that I turned away my head that I might not
see your men, and closed my eyes that I might not count your
tents. No, I come to speak to you, my lord, on my own
account."
"Speak, then, monsieur," said Monk.
"Just now " continued Athos, "I had the honor of telling
your lordship that for a long time I lived in Newcastle; it
was in the time of Charles I., and when the king was given
up to Cromwell by the Scots."
"I know," said Monk, coldly.
"I had at that time a large sum in gold, and on the eve of
the battle, from a presentiment perhaps of the turn which
things would take on the morrow, I concealed it in the
principal vault of the convent of Newcastle, in the tower
whose summit you now see silvered by the moonbeams. My
treasure has then remained interred there, and I have come
to entreat your honor to permit me to withdraw it before,
perhaps, the battle turning that way, a mine or some other
war engine has destroyed the building and scattered my gold,
or rendered it so apparent that the soldiers will take
possession of it."
Monk was well acquainted with mankind, he saw in the
physiognomy of this gentleman all the energy, all the
reason, all the circumspection possible, he could therefore
only attribute to a magnanimous confidence the revelation
the Frenchman had made him, and he showed himself profoundly
touched by it.
"Monsieur," said he, "you have augured well of me. But is
the sum worth the trouble to which you expose yourself? Do
you even believe that it can be in the place where you left
it?"
"It is there, monsieur, I do not doubt."
"That is a reply to one question; but to the other. I asked
you if the sum was so large as to warrant your exposing
yourself thus."
"It is really large; yes, my lord, for it is a million I
inclosed in two barrels."
"A million!" cried Monk, at whom this time, in turn, Athos
looked earnestly and long. Monk perceived this, and his
mistrust returned.
"Here is a man," said he, "who is laying a snare for me. So
you wish to withdraw this money, monsieur," replied he, "as
I understand?"
"If you please, my lord."
"To-day?"
"This very evening, and that on account of the circumstances
I have named."
"But, monsieur," objected Monk, "General Lambert is as near
the abbey where you have to act as I am. Why, then, have you
not addressed yourself to him?"
"Because, my lord, when one acts in important matters, it is
best to consult one's instinct before everything. Well,
General Lambert does not inspire me with so much confidence
as you do."
"Be it so, monsieur. I shall assist you in recovering your
money, if, however, it can still be there; for that is far
from likely. Since 1648 twelve years have rolled away, and
many events have taken place." Monk dwelt upon this point to
see if the French gentleman would seize the evasions that
were open to him, but Athos did not hesitate.
"I assure you, my lord," he said firmly, "that my conviction
is, that the two barrels have neither changed place nor
master." This reply had removed one suspicion from the mind
of Monk, but it had suggested another. Without doubt this
Frenchman was some emissary sent to entice into error the
protector of the parliament; the gold was nothing but a
lure; and by the help of this lure they thought to excite
the cupidity of the general. This gold might not exist. It
was Monk's business, then, to seize the Frenchman in the act
of falsehood and trick, and to draw from the false step
itself in which his enemies wished to entrap him, a triumph
for his renown. When Monk was determined how to act, --
"Monsieur," said he to Athos, "without doubt you will do me
the honor to share my supper this evening?"
"Yes, my lord," replied Athos, bowing, "for you do me an
honor of which I feel myself worthy, by the inclination
which drew me towards you."
"It is so much the more gracious on your part to accept my
invitation with such frankness, as my cooks are but few and
inexperienced, and my providers have returned this evening
empty-handed; so that if it had not been for a fisherman of
your nation who strayed into our camp, General Monk would
have gone to bed without his supper to-day; I have, then,
some fresh fish to offer you, as the vendor assures me."
"My lord, it is principally for the sake of having the honor
to pass another hour with you."
After this exchange of civilities, during which Monk had
lost nothing of his circumspection, the supper, or what was
to serve for one, had been laid upon a deal table. Monk
invited the Comte de la Fere to be seated at this table, and
took his place opposite to him. A single dish of boiled
fish, set before the two illustrious guests, was more
tempting to hungry stomachs than to delicate palates.
Whilst supping, that is, while eating the fish, washed down
with bad ale, Monk got Athos to relate to him the last
events of the Fronde, the reconciliation of M. de Conde with
the king, and the probable marriage of the infanta of Spain;
but he avoided, as Athos himself avoided it, all allusion to
the political interests which united, or rather which
disunited at this time, England, France and Holland.
Monk, in this conversation, convinced himself of one thing,
which he must have remarked after the first words exchanged:
that was, that he had to deal with a man of high
distinction. He could not be an assassin, and it was
repugnant to Monk to believe him to be a spy, but there was
sufficient finesse and at the same time firmness in Athos to
lead Monk to fancy he was a conspirator. When they had
quitted table, "You still believe in your treasure, then,
monsieur?" asked Monk.
"Yes, my lord."
"Quite seriously?"
"Seriously."
"And you think you can find the place again where it was
buried?"
"At the first inspection."
"Well, monsieur, from curiosity I shall accompany you. And
it is so much the more necessary that I should accompany
you, that you would find great difficulties in passing
through the camp without me or one of my lieutenants."
"General, I would not suffer you to inconvenience yourself
if I did not, in fact, stand in need of your company; but as
I recognize that this company is not only honorable, but
necessary, I accept it."
"Do you desire we should take any people with us?" asked
Monk.
"General, I believe that would be useless, if you yourself
do not see the necessity for it. Two men and a horse will
suffice to transport the two casks on board the felucca
which brought me hither."
"But it will be necessary to pick, dig and remove the earth,
and split stones; you don't intend doing this work yourself,
monsieur, do you?"
"General, there is no picking or digging required. The
treasure is buried in the sepulchral vault of the convent,
under a stone in which is fixed a large iron ring and under
which are four steps leading down. The two casks are there,
placed end to end, covered with a coat of plaster in the
form of a bier. There is, besides, an inscription, which
will enable me to recognize the stone; and as I am not
willing, in an affair of delicacy and confidence, to keep
the secret from your honor, here is the inscription: -- `Hic
jacet venerabilis, Petrus Gulielmus Scott, Canon Honorab.
Conventus Novi Castelli. Obiit quarta et decima. Feb. ann.
Dom. MCCVIII. Requiescat in pace.'"
Monk did not lose a single word.- He was astonished either
at the marvelous duplicity of this man and the superior
style in which he played his part, or at the good loyal
faith with which he presented his request, in a situation in
which concerning a million of money, risked against the blow
from a dagger, amidst an army that would have looked upon
the theft as a restitution.
"Very well," said he; "I shall accompany you; and the
adventure appears to me so wonderful, that I shall carry the
torch myself." And saying these words, he girded on a short
sword, placed a pistol in his belt, disclosing in this
movement, which opened his doublet a little, the fine rings
of a coat of mail, destined to protect him from the first
dagger-thrust of an assassin. After which he took a Scotch
dirk in his left hand, and then turning to Athos, "Are you
ready, monsieur?" said he.
"I am."
Athos, as if in opposition to what Monk had done, unfastened
his poniard, which he placed upon the table; unhooked his
sword-belt, which he laid close to his poniard; and, without
affectation, opening his doublet as if to look for his
handkerchief, showed beneath his fine cambric shirt his
naked breast, without weapons either offensive or defensive.
"This is truly a singular man," said Monk; "he is without
any arms; he has an ambuscade placed somewhere yonder."
"General," said he, as if he had divined Monk's thought,
"you wish we should be alone; that is very right, but a
great captain ought never to expose himself with temerity.
It is night, the passage of the marsh may present dangers;
be accompanied."
"You are right," replied he, calling Digby. The aid-de-camp
appeared. "Fifty men with swords and muskets," said he,
looking at Athos.
"That is too few if there is danger, too many if there is
not."
"I will go alone," said Monk; "I want nobody. Come,
monsieur."
