CHAPTER 36
How D'Artagnan drew, as a Fairy would have done,
a Country-seat from a Deal Box
The king's words regarding the wounded pride of Monk had not
inspired D'Artagnan with a small portion of apprehension.
The lieutenant had had, all his life, the great art of
choosing his enemies; and when he had found them implacable
and invincible, it was when he had not been able, under any
pretense, to make them otherwise. But points of view change
greatly in the course of a life. It is a magic lantern, of
which the eye of man every year changes the aspects. It
results that from the last day of a year on which we saw
white, to the first day of the year on which we shall see
black, there is but the interval of a single night.
Now, D'Artagnan, when he left Calais with his ten scamps,
would have hesitated as little in attacking a Goliath, a
Nebuchadnezzar, or a Holofernes as he would in crossing
swords with a recruit or caviling with a landlady. Then he
resembled the sparrow-hawk which, when fasting, will attack
a ram. Hunger is blind. But D'Artagnan satisfied --
D'Artagnan rich -- D'Artagnan a conqueror -- D'Artagnan
proud of so difficult a triumph -- D'Artagnan had too much
to lose not to reckon, figure by figure, with probable
misfortune.
His thoughts were employed, therefore, all the way on the
road from his presentation, with one thing, and that was,
how he should conciliate a man like Monk, a man whom Charles
himself, kind as he was, conciliated with difficulty; for,
scarcely established, the protected might again stand in
need of the protector, and would, consequently, not refuse
him, such being the case, the petty satisfaction of
transporting M. d'Artagnan, or of confining him in one of
the Middlesex prisons, or drowning him a little on his
passage from Dover to Boulogne. Such sorts of satisfaction
kings are accustomed to render to viceroys without
disagreeable consequences.
It would not be at all necessary for the king to be active
in that contrepartie of the play in which Monk should take
his revenge. The part of the king would be confined to
simply pardoning the viceroy of Ireland all he should
undertake against D'Artagnan. Nothing more was necessary to
place the conscience of the Duke of Albemarle at rest than a
te absolvo said with a laugh, or the scrawl of "Charles the
King," traced at the foot of a parchment; and with these two
words pronounced, and these two words written, poor
D'Artagnan was forever crushed beneath the ruins of his
imagination.
And then, a thing sufficiently disquieting for a man with
such foresight as our musketeer, he found himself alone; and
even the friendship of Athos could not restore his
confidence. Certainly if the affair had only concerned a
free distribution of sword-thrusts, the musketeer would have
counted upon his companion; but in delicate dealings with a
king, when the perhaps of an unlucky chance should arise in
justification of Monk or of Charles of England, D'Artagnan
knew Athos well enough to be sure he would give the best
possible coloring to the loyalty of the survivor, and would
content himself with shedding floods of tears on the tomb of
the dead, supposing the dead to be his friend, and
afterwards composing his epitaph in the most pompous
superlatives.
"Decidedly," thought the Gascon; and this thought was the
result of the reflections which he had just whispered to
himself and which we have repeated aloud -- "decidedly, I
must be reconciled with M. Monk, and acquire a proof of his
perfect indifference for the past. If, and God forbid it
should be so! he is still sulky and reserved in the
expression of this sentiment, I shall give my money to Athos
to take away with him, and remain in England just long
enough to unmask him, then, as I have a quick eye and a
light foot, I shall notice the first hostile sign; to decamp
or conceal myself at the residence of my lord of Buckingham,
who seems a good sort of devil at the bottom, and to whom,
in return for his hospitality, I shall relate all that
history of the diamonds, which can now compromise nobody but
an old queen, who need not be ashamed, after being the wife
of a miserly creature like Mazarin, of having formerly been
the mistress of a handsome nobleman like Buckingham.
Mordioux! that is the thing, and this Monk shall not get the
better of me. Eh? and besides I have an idea!"
We know that, in general, D'Artagnan was not wanting in
ideas; and during this soliloquy, D'Artagnan buttoned his
vest up to the chin, and nothing excited his imagination
like this preparation for a combat of any kind, called
accinction by the Romans. He was quite heated when he
reached the mansion of the Duke of Albemarle. He was
introduced to the viceroy with a promptitude which proved
that he was considered as one of the household. Monk was in
his business-closet.
"My lord," said D'Artagnan, with that expression of
frankness which the Gascon knew so well how to assume, "my
lord, I have come to ask your grace's advice!"
Monk, as closely buttoned up morally as his antagonist was
physically, replied: "Ask, my friend;" and his countenance
presented an expression not less open than that of
D'Artagnan.
"My lord, in the first place, promise me secrecy and
indulgence."
"I promise you all you wish. What is the matter? Speak!"
"It is, my lord, that I am not quite pleased with the king."
"Indeed! And on what account, my dear lieutenant?"
"Because his majesty gives way sometimes to jest very
compromising for his servants; and jesting, my lord, is a
weapon that seriously wounds men of the sword, as we are."
Monk did all in his power not to betray his thought, but
D'Artagnan watched him with too close an attention not to
detect an almost imperceptible flush upon his face. "Well,
now, for my part," said he, with the most natural air
possible, "I am not an enemy of jesting, my dear Monsieur
d'Artagnan; my soldiers will tell you that even many times
in camp, I listened very indifferently, and with a certain
pleasure, to the satirical songs which the army of Lambert
passed into mine, and which, certainly, would have caused
the ears of a general more susceptible than I am to tingle."
"Oh, my lord," said D'Artagnan, "I know you are a complete
man; I know you have been, for a long time placed above
human miseries; but there are jests and jests of a certain
kind, which have the power of irritating me beyond
expression."
"May I inquire what kind, my friend?"
"Such as are directed against my friends or against people I
respect, my lord!"
Monk made a slight movement, which D'Artagnan perceived.
"Eh! and in what," asked Monk, "in what can the stroke of a
pin which scratches another tickle your skin? Answer me
that."
"My lord, I can explain it to you in one single sentence; it
concerns you."
Monk advanced a single step towards D'Artagnan. "Concerns
me?" said he.
"Yes, and this is what I cannot explain; but that arises,
perhaps, from my want of knowledge of his character. How can
the king have the heart to jest about a man who has rendered
him so many and such great services? How can one understand
that he should amuse himself in setting by the ears a lion
like you with a gnat like me?"
"I cannot conceive that in any way," said Monk.
"But so it is. The king, who owed me a reward, might have
rewarded me as a soldier, without contriving that history of
the ransom, which affects you, my lord."
"No," said Monk, laughing: "it does not affect me in any
way, I can assure you."
"Not as regards me, I can understand, you know me, my lord,
I am so discreet that the grave would appear a babbler
compared to me; but -- do you understand, my lord?"
"No," replied Monk, with persistent obstinacy.
"If another knew the secret which I know ---- "
"What secret?"
"Eh! my lord, why, that unfortunate secret of Newcastle."
"Oh! the million of M. le Comte de la Fere?"
"No, my lord, no; the enterprise made upon you grace's
person."
"It was well played, chevalier, that is all, and no more is
to be said about it: you are a soldier, both brave and
cunning, which proves that you unite the qualities of Fabius
and Hannibal. You employed your means, force and cunning:
there is nothing to be said against that: I ought to have
been on guard."
"Ah! yes; I know, my lord, and I expected nothing less from
your partiality; so that if it were only the abduction in
itself, Mordieux! that would be nothing; but there are ----
"
"What?"
"The circumstances of that abduction."
"What circumstances?"
"Oh! you know very well what I mean, my lord."
"No, curse me if I do."
"There is -- in truth, it is difficult to speak it."
"There is?"
"Well, there is that devil of a box!"
Monk colored visibly. "Well, I have forgotten it."
"Deal box," continued D'Artagnan, "with holes for the nose
and mouth. In truth, my lord, all the rest was well; but the
box, the box! that was really a coarse joke." Monk fidgeted
about in his chair. "And, notwithstanding my having done
that," resumed D'Artagnan, "I, a soldier of fortune, it was
quite simple, because by the side of that action, a little
inconsiderate I admit, which I committed, but which the
gravity of the case may excuse, I am circumspect and
reserved."
"Oh!" said Monk, "believe me, I know you well, Monsieur
d'Artagnan, and I appreciate you."
D'Artagnan never took his eyes off Monk; studying all which
passed in the mind of the general, as he prosecuted his
idea. "But it does not concern me," resumed he.
"Well, then, whom does it concern?" said Monk, who began to
grow a little impatient.
"It relates to the king, who will never restrain his
tongue."
"Well! and suppose he should say all he knows?" said Monk,
with a degree of hesitation.
"My lord," replied D'Artagnan, "do not dissemble, I implore
you, with a man who speaks so frankly as I do. You have a
right to feel your susceptibility excited, however benignant
it may be. What, the devil! it is not the place for a man
like you, a man who plays with crowns and scepters as a
Bohemian plays with his balls; it is not the place of a
serious man, I said, to be shut up in a box like some freak
of natural history; for you must understand it would make
all your enemies ready to burst with laughter, and you are
so great, so noble, so generous, that you must have many
enemies. This secret is enough to set half the human race
laughing, if you were represented in that box. It is not
decent to have the second personage in the kingdom laughed
at."
Monk was quite out of countenance at the idea of seeing
himself represented in his box. Ridicule, as D'Artagnan had
judiciously foreseen, acted upon him in a manner which
neither the chances of war, the aspirations of ambition, nor
the fear of death had been able to do.
"Good," thought the Gascon, "he is frightened: I am safe."
"Oh! as to the king," said Monk, "fear nothing, my dear
Monsieur d'Artagnan; the king will not jest with Monk, I
assure you!"
The momentary flash of his eye was noticed by D'Artagnan.
Monk lowered his tone immediately: "The king," continued he,
"is of too noble a nature, the king's heart is too high to
allow him to wish ill to those who do him good."
"Oh! certainly," cried D'Artagnan. "I am entirely of your
grace's opinion with regard to his heart, but not as to his
head -- it is good, but it is trifling."
"The king will not trifle with Monk, be assured."
"Then you are quite at ease, my lord?"
"On that side, at least! yes, perfectly."
"Oh! I understand you; you are at ease as far as the king is
concerned?"
"I have told you I was."
"But you are not so much so on my account?"
"I thought I had told you that I had faith in your loyalty
and discretion."
"No doubt, no doubt, but you must remember one thing ---- "
"What is that?"
"That I was not alone, that I had companions; and what
companions!"
"Oh! yes, I know them."
"And, unfortunately, my lord, they know you, too!"
"Well?"
"Well; they are yonder, at Boulogne, waiting for me."
"And you fear ---- "
"Yes, I fear that in my absence -- Parbleu! If I were near
them, I could answer for their silence."
"Was I not right in saying that the danger, if there was any
danger, would not come from his majesty, however disposed he
may be to jest, but from your companions, as you say? To be
laughed at by a king may be tolerable, but by the horse-boys
and scamps of the army! Damn it!"
"Yes, I understand, that would be unbearable, that is why,
my lord, I came to say, -- do you not think it would be
better for me to set out for France as soon as possible?"
"Certainly, if you think your presence ---- "
"Would impose silence upon these scoundrels? Oh! I am sure
of that, my lord."
"Your presence will not prevent the report from spreading,
if the tale has already transpired."
"Oh! it has not transpired, my lord, I will wager. At all
events, be assured I am determined upon one thing."
"What is that?"
"To blow out the brains of the first who shall have
propagated that report, and of the first who has heard it.
After which I shall return to England to seek an asylum, and
perhaps employment with your grace."
"Oh, come back! come back!"
"Unfortunately, my lord, I am acquainted with nobody here
but your grace, and if I should no longer find you, or if
you should have forgotten me in your greatness?"
"Listen to me, Monsieur d'Artagnan," replied Monk; "you are
a superior man, full of intelligence and courage; you
deserve all the good fortune this world can bring you; come
with me into Scotland, and, I swear to you, I shall arrange
for you a fate which all may envy."
"Oh! my lord, that is impossible. At present I have a sacred
duty to perform; I have to watch over your glory, I have to
prevent a low jester from tarnishing in the eyes of our
contemporaries -- who knows? in the eyes of posterity -- the
splendor of your name."
"Of posterity, Monsieur d'Artagnan?"
"Doubtless. It is necessary, as regards posterity, that all
the details of that history should remain a mystery; for,
admit that this unfortunate history of the deal box should
spread, and it should be asserted that you had not
re-established the king loyally, and of your own free will,
but in consequence of a compromise entered into at
Scheveningen between you two. It would be vain for me to
declare how the thing came about, for though I know I should
not be believed, it would be said that I had received my
part of the cake, and was eating it."
Monk knitted his brow. -- "Glory, honor, probity!" said he,
"you are but empty words."
"Mist!" replied D'Artagnan; "nothing but mist, through which
nobody can see clearly."
"Well, then, go to France, my dear Monsieur d'Artagnan,"
said Monk; "go, and to render England more attractive and
agreeable to you, accept a remembrance of me.
"What now?" thought D'Artagnan.
"I have on the banks of the Clyde," continued Monk, "a
little house in a grove, cottage as it is called here. To
this house are attached a hundred acres of land. Accept it
as a souvenir."
"Oh my lord! ---- "
"Faith! you will be there in your own home, and that will be
the place of refuge you spoke of just now."
"For me to be obliged to your lordship to such an extent!
Really, your grace, I am ashamed."
"Not at all, not at all, monsieur," replied Monk, with an
arch smile; "it is I who shall be obliged to you. And,"
pressing the hand of the musketeer, "I shall go and draw up
the deed of gift," -- and he left the room.
D'Artagnan looked at him as he went out with something of a
pensive and even an agitated air.
"After all," said he, "he is a brave man. It is only a sad
reflection that it is from fear of me, and not affection
that he acts thus. Well, I shall endeavor that affection may
follow." Then, after an instant's deeper reflection, --
"Bah!" said he, "to what purpose? He is an Englishman." And
he in his turn went out, a little confused after the combat.
"So," said he, "I am a land-owner! But how the devil am I to
share the cottage with Planchet? Unless I give him the land,
and I take the chateau, or that he takes the house and I --
nonsense! M. Monk will never allow me to share a house he
has inhabited, with a grocer. He is too proud for that.
Besides, why should I say anything about it to him? It was
not with the money of the company I have acquired that
property, it was with my mother-wit alone; it is all mine,
then. So, now I will go and find Athos." And he directed his
steps towards the dwelling of the Comte de la Fere
