CHAPTER 63
How M. d'Eymeris's Diamond passed
into the Hands of M. D'Artagnan.
Whilst this violent, noisy, and bloody scene was passing on
the Greve, several men, barricaded behind the gate of
communication with the garden, replaced their swords in
their sheaths, assisted one among them to mount a ready
saddled horse which was waiting in the garden, and like a
flock of startled birds, fled in all directions, some
climbing the walls, others rushing out at the gates with all
the fury of a panic. He who mounted the horse, and gave him
the spur so sharply that the animal was near leaping the
wall, this cavalier, we say, crossed the Place Baudoyer,
passed like lightning before the crowd in the streets,
riding against, running over and knocking down all that came
in his way, and, ten minutes after, arrived at the gates of
the superintendent, more out of breath than his horse. The
Abbe Fouquet, at the clatter of the hoofs on the pavement,
appeared at a window of the court, and before even the
cavalier had set foot to the ground, "Well! Danecamp?" cried
he, leaning half out of the window.
"Well, it is all over," replied the cavalier.
"All over!" cried the abbe. "Then they are saved?"
"No, monsieur," replied the cavalier, "they are hung."
"Hung!" repeated the abbe, turning pale. A lateral door
suddenly opened, and Fouquet appeared in the chamber, pale,
distracted, with lips half opened, breathing a cry of grief
and anger. He stopped upon the threshold to listen to what
was addressed from the court to the window.
"Miserable wretches!" said the abbe. "you did not fight,
then?"
"Like lions."
"Say like cowards."
"Monsieur!"
"A hundred men accustomed to war, sword in hand, are worth
ten thousand archers in a surprise. Where is Menneville,
that boaster, that braggart, who was to come back either
dead or a conqueror?"
"Well, monsieur, he has kept his word. He is dead!"
"Dead! Who killed him?"
"A demon disguised as a man, a giant armed with ten flaming
swords -- a madman, who at one blow extinguished the fire,
put down the riot, and caused a hundred musketeers to rise
up out of the pavement of the Greve."
Fouquet raised his brow, streaming with sweat, murmuring,
"Oh! Lyodot and D'Eymeris! dead! dead! dead! and I
dishonored."
The abbe turned round, and perceiving his brother,
despairing and livid, "Come, come," said he, "it is a blow
of fate, monsieur; we must not lament thus. Our attempt has
failed, because God ---- "
"Be silent, abbe! be silent!" cried Fouquet; "your excuses
are blasphemies. Order that man up here, and let him relate
the details of this terrible event."
"But, brother ---- "
"Obey, monsieur!"
The abbe made a sign, and in half a minute the man's step
was heard upon the stairs. At the same time Gourville
appeared behind Fouquet, like the guardian angel of the
superintendent, pressing one finger on his lips to enjoin
observation even amidst the bursts of his grief. The
minister resumed all the serenity that human strength left
at the disposal of a heart half broken with sorrow. Danecamp
appeared. "Make your report," said Gourville.
"Monsieur," replied the messenger, "we received orders to
carry off the prisoners, and to cry `Vive Colbert!' whilst
carrying them off."
"To burn them alive, was it not, abbe?" interrupted
Gourville.
"Yes, yes, the order was given to Menneville. Menneville
knew what was to be done, and Menneville is dead."
This news appeared rather to reassure Gourville than to
sadden him.
"Yes, certainly to burn them alive," said the abbe, eagerly.
"Granted, monsieur, granted," said the man, looking into the
eyes and the faces of the two interlocutors, to ascertain
what there was profitable or disadvantageous to himself in
telling the truth.
"Now, proceed," said Gourville.
"The prisoners," cried Danecamp, "were brought to the Greve,
and the people, in a fury, insisted upon their being burnt
instead of being hung."
"And the people were right," said the abbe. "Go on."
"But," resumed the man, "at the moment the archers were
broken, at the moment the fire was set to one of the houses
of the Place destined to serve as a funeral-pile for the
guilty, this fury, this demon, this giant of whom I told
you, and who we had been informed, was the proprietor of the
house in question, aided by a young man who accompanied him,
threw out of the window those who kept up the fire, called
to his assistance the musketeers who were in the crowd,
leapt himself from the window of the first story into the
Place, and plied his sword so desperately that the victory
was restored to the archers, the prisoners were retaken, and
Menneville killed. When once recaptured, the condemned were
executed in three minutes." Fouquet, in spite of his
self-command, could not prevent a deep groan escaping him.
"And this man, the proprietor of the house, what is his
name?" said the abbe.
"I cannot tell you, not having even been able to get sight
of him; my post had been appointed in the garden, and I
remained at my post: only the affair was related to me as I
repeat it. I was ordered, when once the affair was at an
end, to come at best speed arid announce to you the manner
in which it finished. According to this order, I set out,
full gallop, and here I am."
"Very well, monsieur, we have nothing else to ask of you,"
said the abbe, more and more dejected, in proportion as the
moment approached for finding himself alone with his
brother.
"Have you been paid?" asked Gourville.
"Partly, monsieur," replied Danecamp.
"Here are twenty pistoles. Begone, monsieur, and never
forget to defend, as this time has been done, the true
interests of the king."
"Yes, monsieur," said the man, bowing and pocketing the
money. After which he went out. Scarcely had the door closed
after him when Fouquet, who had remained motionless,
advanced with a rapid step and stood between the abbe and
Gourville. Both of them at the same time opened their mouths
to speak to him. "No excuses," said he, "no recriminations
against anybody. If I had not been a false friend I should
not have confided to any one the care of delivering Lyodot
and D'Eymeris. I alone am guilty; to me alone are reproaches
and remorse due. Leave me, abbe."
"And yet, monsieur, you will not prevent me," replied the
latter, "from endeavoring to find out the miserable fellow
who has intervened to the advantage of M. Colbert in this so
well-arranged affair; for, if it is good policy to love our
friends dearly, I do not believe that is bad which consists
in obstinately pursuing our enemies."
"A truce to policy, abbe; begone, I beg of you, and do not
let me hear any more of you till I send for you; what we
most need is circumspection and silence. You have a terrible
example before you, gentlemen: no reprisals, I forbid them."
"There are no orders," grumbled the abbe, "which will
prevent me from avenging a family affront upon the guilty
person."
"And I," cried Fouquet, in that imperative tone to which one
feels there is nothing to reply, "if you entertain one
thought, one single thought, which is not the absolute
expression of my will, I will have you cast into the Bastile
two hours after that thought has manifested itself. Regulate
your conduct accordingly, abbe."
The abbe colored and bowed. Fouquet made a sign to Gourville
to follow him, and was already directing his steps towards
his cabinet, when the usher announced with a loud voice:
"Monsieur le Chevalier d'Artagnan."
"Who is he?" said Fouquet, negligently, to Gourville.
"An ex-lieutenant of his majesty's musketeers," replied
Gourville, in the same tone. Fouquet did not even take the
trouble to reflect, and resumed his walk. "I beg your
pardon, monseigneur!" said Gourville, "but I have
remembered, this brave man has quitted the king's service,
and probably comes to receive an installment of some pension
or other."
"Devil take him!" said Fouquet, "why does he choose his
opportunity so ill?"
"Permit me then, monseigneur, to announce your refusal to
him; for he is one of my acquaintance, and is a man whom, in
our present circumstances, it would be better to have as a
friend than an enemy."
"Answer him as you please," said Fouquet.
"Eh! good Lord!" said the abbe, still full of malice, like
an egotistical man; "tell him there is no money,
particularly for musketeers."
But scarcely had the abbe uttered this imprudent speech,
when the partly open door was thrown back, and D'Artagnan
appeared.
"Eh! Monsieur Fouquet," said he, "I was well aware there was
no money for musketeers here. Therefore I did not come to
obtain any, but to have it refused. That being done, receive
my thanks. I give you good-day, and will go and seek it at
M. Colbert's." And he went out, making an easy bow.
"Gourville," said Fouquet, "run after that man and bring him
back." Gourville obeyed, and overtook D'Artagnan on the
stairs.
D'Artagnan, hearing steps behind him, turned round and
perceived Gourville. "Mordioux! my dear monsieur," said he,
"these are sad lessons which you gentlemen of finance teach
us; I come to M. Fouquet to receive a sum accorded by his
majesty, and I am received like a mendicant who comes to ask
charity, or a thief who comes to steal a piece of plate."
"But you pronounced the name of M. Colbert, my dear M.
d'Artagnan; you said you were going to M. Colbert's?"
"I certainly am going there, were it only to ask
satisfaction of the people who try to burn houses, crying
`Vive Colbert!'"
Gourville pricked up his ears. "Oh, oh!" said he, "you
allude to what has just happened at the Greve?"
"Yes, certainly."
"And in what did that which has taken place concern you?"
"What! do you ask me whether it concerns me or does not
concern me, if M. Colbert pleases to make a funeral-pile of
my house?"
"So ho, your house -- was it your house they wanted to
burn?"
"Pardieu! was it!"
"Is the cabaret of the Image-de-Notre-Dame yours, then?"
"It has been this week."
"Well, then, are you the brave captain, are you the valiant
blade who dispersed those who wished to burn the condemned?"
"My dear Monsieur Gourville, put yourself in my place. I was
an agent of the public force and a landlord, too. As a
captain, it is my duty to have the orders of the king
accomplished. As a proprietor, it is to my interest my house
should not be burnt. I have at the same time attended to the
laws of interest and duty in replacing Messieurs Lyodot and
D'Eymeris in the hands of the archers."
"Then it was you who threw the man out of the window?"
"It was I, myself," replied D'Artagnan, modestly
"And you who killed Menneville?"
"I had that misfortune," said D'Artagnan, bowing like a man
who is being congratulated.
"It was you, then, in short, who caused the two condemned
persons to be hung?"
"Instead of being burnt, yes, monsieur, and I am proud of
it. I saved the poor devils from horrible tortures.
Understand, my dear Monsieur de Gourville, that they wanted
to burn them alive. It exceeds imagination!"
"Go, my dear Monsieur d'Artagnan, go," said Gourville,
anxious to spare Fouquet the sight of the man who had just
caused him such profound grief.
"No," said Fouquet, who had heard all from the door of the
ante-chamber; "not so; on the contrary, Monsieur d'Artagnan,
come in."
D'Artagnan wiped from the hilt of his sword a last bloody
trace, which had escaped his notice, and returned. He then
found himself face to face with these three men, whose
countenances wore very different expressions. With the abbe
it was anger, with Gourville stupor, with Fouquet it was
dejection.
"I beg your pardon, monsieur le ministre," said D'Artagnan,
"but my time is short; I have to go to the office of the
intendant, to have an explanation with Monsieur Colbert, and
to receive my quarter's pension."
"But, monsieur," said Fouquet, "there is money here."
D'Artagnan looked at the superintendent with astonishment.
"You have been answered inconsiderately, monsieur, I know,
because I heard it," said the minister; "a man of your merit
ought to be known by everybody." D'Artagnan bowed. "Have you
an order?" added Fouquet.
"Yes, monsieur."
"Give it me, I will pay you myself; come with me." He made a
sign to Gourville and the abbe, who remained in the chamber
where they were. He led D'Artagnan into his cabinet. As soon
as the door was shut, -- "How much is due to you, monsieur?"
"Why, something like five thousand livres, monseigneur."
"For arrears of pay?"
"For a quarter's pay."
"A quarter consisting of five thousand livres!" said
Fouquet, fixing upon the musketeer a searching look. Does
the king, then, give you twenty thousand livres a year?"
"Yes, monseigneur, twenty thousand livres a year. Do you
think it is too much?"
"I?" cried Fouquet, and he smiled bitterly. "If I had any
knowledge of mankind, if I were -- instead of being a
frivolous, inconsequent, and vain spirit -- of a prudent and
reflective spirit; if, in a word, I had, as certain persons
have known how, regulated my life, you would not receive
twenty thousand livres a year, but a hundred thousand, and
you would not belong to the king, but to me."
D'Artagnan colored slightly. There is sometimes in the
manner in which a eulogium is given, in the voice, in the
affectionate tone, a poison so sweet, that the strongest
mind is intoxicated by it. The superintendent terminated his
speech by opening a drawer, and taking from it four rouleaux
which he placed before D'Artagnan. The Gascon opened one.
"Gold!" said he.
"It will be less burdensome, monsieur."
"But then, monsieur, these make twenty thousand livres."
"No doubt they do."
"But only five are due to me."
"I wish to spare you the trouble of coming four times to my
office."
"You overwhelm me, monsieur."
"I do only what I ought to do, monsieur le chevalier; and I
hope you will not bear me any malice on account of the rude
reception my brother gave you. He is of a sour, capricious
disposition."
"Monsieur," said D'Artagnan, "believe me, nothing would
grieve me more than an excuse from you."
"Therefore I will make no more, and will content myself with
asking you a favor."
"Oh, monsieur."
Fouquet drew from his finger a ring worth about a thousand
pistoles. "Monsieur," said he, "this stone was given me by a
friend of my childhood, by a man to whom you have rendered a
great service."
"A service -- I?" said the musketeer, "I have rendered a
service to one of your friends?"
"You cannot have forgotten it, monsieur, for it dates this
very day."
"And that friend's name was ---- "
"M. d'Eymeris."
"One of the condemned?"
"Yes, one of the victims. Well! Monsieur d'Artagnan, in
return for the service you have rendered him, I beg you to
accept this diamond. Do so for my sake."
"Monsieur! you ---- "
"Accept it, I say. To-day is with me a day of mourning;
hereafter you will, perhaps, learn why; to-day I have lost
one friend; well, I will try to get another."
"But, Monsieur Fouquet ---- "
"Adieu! Monsieur d'Artagnan, adieu!" cried Fouquet, with
much emotion; "or rather, au revoir." And the minister
quitted the cabinet, leaving in the hands of the musketeer
the ring and the twenty thousand livres.
"Oh!" said D'Artagnan, after a moment's dark reflection.
"How on earth am I to understand what this means? Mordioux!
I can understand this much, only: he is a gallant man! I
will go and explain matters to M. Colbert." And he went out.
