24
The timely Arrival of D'Artagnan in Paris.
At Blois, D'Artagnan received the money paid to him by
Mazarin for any future service he might render the cardinal.
From Blois to Paris was a journey of four days for ordinary
travelers, but D'Artagnan arrived on the third day at the
Barriere Saint Denis. In turning the corner of the Rue
Montmartre, in order to reach the Rue Tiquetonne and the
Hotel de la Chevrette, where he had appointed Porthos to
meet him, he saw at one of the windows of the hotel, that
friend himself dressed in a sky-blue waistcoat, embroidered
with silver, and gaping, till he showed every one of his
white teeth; whilst the people passing by admiringly gazed
at this gentleman, so handsome and so rich, who seemed to
weary of his riches and his greatness.
D'Artagnan and Planchet had hardly turned the corner when
Porthos recognized them.
"Eh! D'Artagnan!" he cried. "Thank God you have come!"
"Eh! good-day, dear friend!" replied D'Artagnan.
Porthos came down at once to the threshold of the hotel.
"Ah, my dear friend!" he cried, "what bad stabling for my
horses here."
"Indeed!" said D'Artagnan; "I am most unhappy to hear it, on
account of those fine animals."
"And I, also -- I was also wretchedly off," he answered,
moving backward and forward as he spoke; "and had it not
been for the hostess," he added, with his air of vulgar
self-complacency, "who is very agreeable and understands a
joke, I should have got a lodging elsewhere."
The pretty Madeleine, who had approached during this
colloquy, stepped back and turned pale as death on hearing
Porthos's words, for she thought the scene with the Swiss
was about to be repeated. But to her great surprise
D'Artagnan remained perfectly calm, and instead of being
angry he laughed, and said to Porthos:
"Yes, I understand, the air of La Rue Tiquetonne is not like
that of Pierrefonds; but console yourself, I will soon
conduct you to one much better."
"When will you do that?"
"Immediately, I hope."
"Ah! so much the better!"
To that exclamation of Porthos's succeeded a groaning, low
and profound, which seemed to come from behind a door.
D'Artagnan, who had just dismounted, then saw, outlined
against the wall, the enormous stomach of Mousqueton, whose
down-drawn mouth emitted sounds of distress.
"And you, too, my poor Monsieur Mouston, are out of place in
this poor hotel, are you not?" asked D'Artagnan, in that
rallying tone which may indicate either compassion or
mockery.
"He finds the cooking detestable," replied Porthos.
"Why, then, doesn't he attend to it himself, as at
Chantilly?"
"Ah, monsieur, I have not here, as I had there, the ponds of
monsieur le prince, where I could catch those beautiful
carp, nor the forests of his highness to provide me with
partridges. As for the cellar, I have searched every part
and poor stuff I found."
"Monsieur Mouston," said D'Artagnan, "I should indeed
condole with you had I not at this moment something very
pressing to attend to."
Then taking Porthos aside:
"My dear Du Vallon," he said, "here you are in full dress
most fortunately, for I am going to take you to the
cardinal's."
"Gracious me! really!" exclaimed Porthos, opening his great
wondering eyes.
"Yes, my friend."
"A presentation? indeed!"
"Does that alarm you?"
"No, but it agitates me."
"Oh! don't be distressed; you have to deal with a cardinal
of another kind. This one will not oppress you by his
dignity."
"'Tis the same thing -- you understand me, D'Artagnan -- a
court."
"There's no court now. Alas!"
"The queen!"
"I was going to say, there's no longer a queen. The queen!
Rest assured, we shall not see her."
"And you say that we are going from here to the Palais
Royal?"
"Immediately. Only, that there may be no delay, I shall
borrow one of your horses."
"Certainly; all the four are at your service."
"Oh, I need only one of them for the time being."
"Shall we take our valets?"
"Yes, you may as well take Mousqueton. As to Planchet, he has
certain reasons for not going to court."
"And what are they?"
"Oh, he doesn't stand well with his eminence."
"Mouston," said Porthos, "saddle Vulcan and Bayard."
"And for myself, monsieur, shall I saddle Rustaud?"
"No, take a more stylish horse, Phoebus or Superbe; we are
going with some ceremony."
"Ah," said Mousqueton, breathing more freely, "you are only
going, then, to make a visit?"
"Oh! yes, of course, Mouston; nothing else. But to avoid
risk, put the pistols in the holsters. You will find mine on
my saddle, already loaded."
Mouston breathed a sigh; he couldn't understand visits of
ceremony made under arms.
"Indeed," said Porthos, looking complacently at his old
lackey as he went away, "you are right, D'Artagnan; Mouston
will do; Mouston has a very fine appearance."
D'Artagnan smiled.
"But you, my friend -- are you not going to change your
dress?"
"No, I shall go as I am. This traveling dress will serve to
show the cardinal my haste to obey his commands."
They set out on Vulcan and Bayard, followed by Mousqueton on
Phoebus, and arrived at the Palais Royal at about a quarter
to seven. The streets were crowded, for it was the day of
Pentecost, and the crowd looked in wonder at these two
cavaliers; one as fresh as if he had come out of a bandbox,
the other so covered with dust that he looked as if he had
but just come off a field of battle.
Mousqueton also attracted attention; and as the romance of
Don Quixote was then the fashion, they said that he was
Sancho, who, after having lost one master, had found two.
On reaching the palace, D'Artagnan sent to his eminence the
letter in which he had been ordered to return without delay.
He was soon ordered to the presence of the cardinal.
"Courage!" he whispered to Porthos, as they proceeded. "Do
not be intimidated. Believe me, the eye of the eagle is
closed forever. We have only the vulture to deal with. Hold
yourself as bolt upright as on the day of the bastion of St.
Gervais, and do not bow too low to this Italian; that might
give him a poor idea of you."
"Good!" answered Porthos. "Good!"
Mazarin was in his study, working at a list of pensions and
benefices, of which he was trying to reduce the number. He
saw D'Artagnan and Porthos enter with internal pleasure, yet
showed no joy in his countenance.
"Ah! you, is it? Monsieur le lieutenant, you have been very
prompt. 'Tis well. Welcome to ye."
"Thanks, my lord. Here I am at your eminence's service, as
well as Monsieur du Vallon, one of my old friends, who used
to conceal his nobility under the name of Porthos."
Porthos bowed to the cardinal.
"A magnificent cavalier," remarked Mazarin.
Porthos turned his head to the right and to the left, and
drew himself up with a movement full of dignity.
"The best swordsman in the kingdom, my lord," said
D'Artagnan.
Porthos bowed to his friend.
Mazarin was as fond of fine soldiers as, in later times,
Frederick of Prussia used to be. He admired the strong
hands, the broad shoulders and the steady eye of Porthos. He
seemed to see before him the salvation of his administration
and of the kingdom, sculptured in flesh and bone. He
remembered that the old association of musketeers was
composed of four persons.
"And your two other friends?" he asked.
Porthos opened his mouth, thinking it a good opportunity to
put in a word in his turn; D'Artagnan checked him by a
glance from the corner of his eye.
"They are prevented at this moment, but will join us later."
Mazarin coughed a little.
"And this gentleman, being disengaged, takes to the service
willingly?" he asked.
"Yes, my lord, and from pure devotion to the cause, for
Monsieur de Bracieux is rich."
"Rich!" said Mazarin, whom that single word always inspired
with a great respect.
"Fifty thousand francs a year," said Porthos.
These were the first words he had spoken.
"From pure zeal?" resumed Mazarin, with his artful smile;
"from pure zeal and devotion then?"
"My lord has, perhaps, no faith in those words?" said
D'Artagnan.
"Have you, Monsieur le Gascon?" asked Mazarin, supporting
his elbows on his desk and his chin on his hands.
"I," replied the Gascon, "I believe in devotion as a word at
one's baptism, for instance, which naturally comes before
one's proper name; every one is naturally more or less
devout, certainly; but there should be at the end of one's
devotion something to gain."
"And your friend, for instance; what does he expect to have
at the end of his devotion?"
"Well, my lord, my friend has three magnificent estates:
that of Vallon, at Corbeil; that of Bracieux, in the
Soissonais; and that of Pierrefonds, in the Valois. Now, my
lord, he would like to have one of his three estates erected
into a barony."
"Only that?" said Mazarin, his eyes twinkling with joy on
seeing that he could pay for Porthos's devotion without
opening his purse; "only that? That can be managed."
"I shall be baron!" explained Porthos, stepping forward.
"I told you so," said D'Artagnan, checking him with his
hand; "and now his eminence confirms it."
"And you, Monsieur D'Artagnan, what do you want?"
"My lord," said D'Artagnan, "it is twenty years since
Cardinal de Richelieu made me lieutenant."
"Yes, and you would be gratified if Cardinal Mazarin should
make you captain."
D'Artagnan bowed.
"Well, that is not impossible. We will see, gentlemen, we
will see. Now, Monsieur de Vallon," said Mazarin, "what
service do you prefer, in the town or in the country?"
Porthos opened his mouth to reply.
"My lord," said D'Artagnan, "Monsieur de Vallon is like me,
he prefers service extraordinary -- that is to say,
enterprises that are considered mad and impossible."
That boastfulness was not displeasing to Mazarin; he fell
into meditation.
"And yet," he said, "I must admit that I sent for you to
appoint you to quiet service; I have certain apprehensions
-- well, what is the meaning of that?"
In fact, a great noise was heard in the ante-chamber; at the
same time the door of the study was burst open and a man,
covered with dust, rushed into it, exclaiming:
"My lord the cardinal! my lord the cardinal!"
Mazarin thought that some one was going to assassinate him
and he drew back, pushing his chair on the castors.
D'Artagnan and Porthos moved so as to plant themselves
between the person entering and the cardinal.
"Well, sir," exclaimed Mazarin, "what's the matter? and why
do you rush in here, as if you were about to penetrate a
crowded market-place?"
"My lord," replied the messenger, "I wish to speak to your
eminence in secret. I am Monsieur du Poins, an officer in
the guards, on duty at the donjon of Vincennes."
Mazarin, perceiving by the paleness and agitation of the
messenger that he had something of importance to say, made a
sign that D'Artagnan and Porthos should give place.
D'Artagnan and Porthos withdrew to a corner of the cabinet.
"Speak, monsieur, speak at once!" said Mazarin "What is the
matter?"
"The matter is, my lord, that the Duc de Beaufort has
contrived to escape from the Chateau of Vincennes."
Mazarin uttered a cry and became paler than the man who had
brought the news. He fell back, almost fainting, in his
chair.
"Escaped? Monsieur de Beaufort escaped?"
"My lord, I saw him run off from the top of the terrace."
"And you did not fire on him?"
"He was out of range."
"Monsieur de Chavigny -- where was he?"
"Absent."
"And La Ramee?"
"Was found locked up in the prisoner's room, a gag in his
mouth and a poniard near him."
"But the man who was under him?"
"Was an accomplice of the duke's and escaped along with
him."
Mazarin groaned.
"My lord," said D'Artagnan, advancing toward the cardinal,
"it seems to me that your eminence is losing precious time.
It may still be possible to overtake the prisoner. France is
large; the nearest frontier is sixty leagues distant."
"And who is to pursue him?" cried Mazarin.
"I, pardieu!"
"And you would arrest him?"
"Why not?"
"You would arrest the Duc de Beaufort, armed, in the field?"
"If your eminence should order me to arrest the devil, I
would seize him by the horns and would bring him in."
"So would I," said Porthos.
"So would you!" said Mazarin, looking with astonishment at
those two men. "But the duke will not yield himself without
a furious battle."
"Very well," said D'Artagnan, his eyes aflame, "battle! It
is a long time since we have had a battle, eh, Porthos?"
"Battle!" cried Porthos.
"And you think you can catch him?"
"Yes, if we are better mounted than he."
"Go then, take what guards you find here, and pursue him."
"You command us, my lord, to do so?"
"And I sign my orders," said Mazarin, taking a piece of
paper and writing some lines; "Monsieur du Vallon, your
barony is on the back of the Duc de Beaufort's horse; you
have nothing to do but to overtake it. As for you, my dear
lieutenant, I promise you nothing; but if you bring him back
to me, dead or alive, you may ask all you wish."
"To horse, Porthos!" said D'Artagnan, taking his friend by
the hand.
"Here I am," smiled Porthos, with his sublime composure.
They descended the great staircase, taking with them all the
guards they found on their road, and crying out, "To arms!
To arms!" and immediately put spur to horse, which set off
along the Rue Saint Honore with the speed of the whirlwind.
"Well, baron, I promise you some good exercise!" said the
Gascon.
"Yes, my captain."
As they went, the citizens, awakened, left their doors and
the street dogs followed the cavaliers, barking. At the
corner of the Cimetiere Saint Jean, D'Artagnan upset a man;
it was too insignificant an occurrence to delay people so
eager to get on. The troop continued its course as though
their steeds had wings.
Alas! there are no unimportant events in this world and we
shall see that this apparently slight incident came near
endangering the monarchy.
