44
Te Deum for the Victory of Lens.
The bustle which had been observed by Henrietta Maria and
for which she had vainly sought to discover a reason, was
occasioned by the battle of Lens, announced by the prince's
messenger, the Duc de Chatillon, who had taken such a noble
part in the engagement; he was, besides, charged to hang
five and twenty flags, taken from the Lorraine party, as
well as from the Spaniards, upon the arches of Notre Dame.
Such news was decisive; it destroyed, in favor of the court,
the struggle commenced with parliament. The motive given for
all the taxes summarily imposed and to which the parliament
had made opposition, was the necessity of sustaining the
honor of France and the uncertain hope of beating the enemy.
Now, since the affair of Nordlingen, they had experienced
nothing but reverses; the parliament had a plea for calling
Mazarin to account for imaginary victories, always promised,
ever deferred; but this time there really had been fighting,
a triumph and a complete one. And this all knew so well that
it was a double victory for the court, a victory at home and
abroad; so that even when the young king learned the news he
exclaimed, "Ah, gentlemen of the parliament, we shall see
what you will say now!" Upon which the queen had pressed the
royal child to her heart, whose haughty and unruly
sentiments were in such harmony with her own. A council was
called on the same evening, but nothing transpired of what
had been decided on. It was only known that on the following
Sunday a Te Deum would be sung at Notre Dame in honor of the
victory of Lens.
The following Sunday, then, the Parisians arose with joy; at
that period a Te Deum was a grand affair; this kind of
ceremony had not then been abused and it produced a great
effect. The shops were deserted, houses closed; every one
wished to see the young king with his mother, and the famous
Cardinal Mazarin whom they hated so much that no one wished
to be deprived of his presence. Moreover, great liberty
prevailed throughout the immense crowd; every opinion was
openly expressed and chorused, so to speak, of coming
insurrection, as the thousand bells of all the Paris
churches rang out the Te Deum. The police belonging to the
city being formed by the city itself, nothing threatening
presented itself to disturb this concert of universal hatred
or freeze the frequent scoffs of slanderous lips.
Nevertheless, at eight o'clock in the morning the regiment
of the queen's guards, commanded by Guitant, under whom was
his nephew Comminges, marched publicly, preceded by drums
and trumpets, filing off from the Palais Royal as far as
Notre Dame, a manoeuvre which the Parisians witnessed
tranquilly, delighted as they were with military music and
brilliant uniforms.
Friquet had put on his Sunday clothes, under the pretext of
having a swollen face which he had managed to simulate by
introducing a handful of cherry kernels into one side of his
mouth, and had procured a whole holiday from Bazin. On
leaving Bazin, Friquet started off to the Palais Royal,
where he arrived at the moment of the turning out of the
regiment of guards; and as he had only gone there for the
enjoyment of seeing it and hearing the music, he took his
place at their head, beating the drum on two pieces of slate
and passing from that exercise to that of the trumpet, which
he counterfeited quite naturally with his mouth in a manner
which had more than once called forth the praises of
amateurs of imitative harmony.
This amusement lasted from the Barriere des Sergens to the
place of Notre Dame, and Friquet found in it very real
enjoyment; but when at last the regiment separated,
penetrated the heart of the city and placed itself at the
extremity of the Rue Saint Christophe, near the Rue
Cocatrix, in which Broussel lived, then Friquet remembered
that he had not had breakfast; and after thinking in which
direction he had better turn his steps in order to
accomplish this important act of the day, he reflected
deeply and decided that Councillor Broussel should bear the
cost of this repast.
In consequence he took to his heels, arrived breathlessly at
the councillor's door, and knocked violently.
His mother, the councillor's old servant, opened it.
"What doest thou here, good-for-nothing?" she said, "and why
art thou not at Notre Dame?"
"I have been there, mother," said Friquet, "but I saw things
happen of which Master Broussel ought to be warned, and so
with Monsieur Bazin's permission -- you know, mother,
Monsieur Bazin, the verger -- I came to speak to Monsieur
Broussel."
"And what hast thou to say, boy, to Monsieur Broussel?"
"I wish to tell him," replied Friquet, screaming with all
his might, "that there is a whole regiment of guards coming
this way. And as I hear everywhere that at the court they
are ill-disposed to him, I wish to warn him, that he may be
on his guard."
Broussel heard the scream of the young oddity, and,
enchanted with this excess of zeal, came down to the first
floor, for he was, in truth, working in his room on the
second.
"Well," said he, "friend, what matters the regiment of
guards to us, and art thou not mad to make such a
disturbance? Knowest thou not that it is the custom of these
soldiers to act thus and that it is usual for the regiment
to form themselves into two solid walls when the king goes
by?"
Friquet counterfeited surprise, and twisting his new cap
around in his fingers, said:
"It is not astonishing for you to know it, Monsieur
Broussel, who knows everything; but as for me, by holy
truth, I did not know it and I thought I would give you good
advice; you must not be angry with me for that, Monsieur
Broussel."
"On the contrary, my boy, on the contrary, I am pleased with
your zeal. Dame Nanette, look for those apricots which
Madame de Longueville sent to us yesterday from Noisy and
give half a dozen of them to your son, with a crust of new
bread."
"Oh, thank you, sir, thank you, Monsieur Broussel," said
Friquet; "I am so fond of apricots!"
Broussel then proceeded to his wife's room and asked for
breakfast; it was nine o'clock. The councillor placed
himself at the window; the street was completely deserted,
but in the distance was heard, like the noise of the tide
rushing in, the deep hum of the populous waves increasing
now around Notre Dame.
This noise redoubled when D'Artagnan, with a company of
musketeers, placed himself at the gates of Notre Dame to
secure the service of the church. He had instructed Porthos
to profit by this opportunity to see the ceremony; and
Porthos, in full dress, mounted his finest horse, taking the
part of supernumerary musketeer, as D'Artagnan had so often
done formerly. The sergeant of this company, a veteran of
the Spanish wars, had recognized Porthos, his old companion,
and very soon all those who served under him were placed in
possession of startling facts concerning the honor of the
ancient musketeers of Treville. Porthos had not only been
well received by the company, but he was moreover looked on
with great admiration.
At ten o'clock the guns of the Louvre announced the
departure of the king, and then a movement, similar to that
of trees in a stormy wind that bend and writhe with agitated
tops, ran though the multitude, which was compressed behind
the immovable muskets of the guard. At last the king
appeared with the queen in a gilded chariot. Ten other
carriages followed, containing the ladies of honor, the
officers of the royal household, and the court.
"God save the king!" was the cry in every direction; the
young monarch gravely put his head out of the window, looked
sufficiently grateful and even bowed; at which the cries of
the multitude were renewed.
Just as the court was settling down in the cathedral, a
carriage, bearing the arms of Comminges, quitted the line of
the court carriages and proceeded slowly to the end of the
Rue Saint Christophe, now entirely deserted. When it arrived
there, four guards and a police officer, who accompanied it,
mounted into the heavy machine and closed the shutters; then
through an opening cautiously made, the policeman began to
watch the length of the Rue Cocatrix, as if he was waiting
for some one.
All the world was occupied with the ceremony, so that
neither the chariot nor the precautions taken by those who
were within it had been observed. Friquet, whose eye, ever
on the alert, could alone have discovered them, had gone to
devour his apricots upon the entablature of a house in the
square of Notre Dame. Thence he saw the king, the queen and
Monsieur Mazarin, and heard the mass as well as if he had
been on duty.
Toward the end of the service, the queen, seeing Comminges
standing near her, waiting for a confirmation of the order
she had given him before quitting the Louvre, said in a
whisper:
"Go, Comminges, and may God aid you!"
Comminges immediately left the church and entered the Rue
Saint Christophe. Friquet, seeing this fine officer thus
walk away, followed by two guards, amused himself by
pursuing them and did this so much the more gladly as the
ceremony ended at that instant and the king remounted his
carriage.
Hardly had the police officer observed Comminges at the end
of the Rue Cocatrix when he said one word to the coachman,
who at once put his vehicle into motion and drove up before
Broussel's door. Comminges knocked at the door at the same
moment, and Friquet was waiting behind Comminges until the
door should be opened.
"What dost thou there, rascal?" asked Comminges.
"I want to go into Master Broussel's house, captain,"
replied Friquet, in that wheedling way the "gamins" of Paris
know so well how to assume when necessary.
"And on what floor does he live?" asked Comminges.
"In the whole house," said Friquet; "the house belongs to
him; he occupies the second floor when he works and descends
to the first to take his meals; he must be at dinner now; it
is noon."
"Good," said Comminges.
At this moment the door was opened, and having questioned
the servant the officer learned that Master Broussel was at
home and at dinner.
Broussel was seated at the table with his family, having his
wife opposite to him, his two daughters by his side, and his
son, Louvieres, whom we have already seen when the accident
happened to the councillor -- an accident from which he had
quite recovered -- at the bottom of the table. The worthy
man, restored to perfect health, was tasting the fine fruit
which Madame de Longueville had sent to him.
At sight of the officer Broussel was somewhat moved, but
seeing him bow politely he rose and bowed also. Still, in
spite of this reciprocal politeness, the countenances of the
women betrayed a certain amount of uneasiness; Louvieres
became very pale and waited impatiently for the officer to
explain himself.
"Sir," said Comminges, "I am the bearer of an order from the
king."
"Very well, sir," replied Broussel, "what is this order?"
And he held out his hand.
"I am commissioned to seize your person, sir," said
Comminges, in the same tone and with the same politeness;
"and if you will believe me you had better spare yourself
the trouble of reading that long letter and follow me."
A thunderbolt falling in the midst of these good people, so
peacefully assembled there, would not have produced a more
appalling effect. It was a horrible thing at that period to
be imprisoned by the enmity of the king. Louvieres sprang
forward to snatch his sword, which stood against a chair in
a corner of the room; but a glance from the worthy Broussel,
who in the midst of it all did not lose his presence of
mind, checked this foolhardy action of despair. Madame
Broussel, separated by the width of the table from her
husband, burst into tears, and the young girls clung to
their father's arms.
"Come, sir," said Comminges, "make haste; you must obey the
king."
"Sir," said Broussel, "I am in bad health and cannot give
myself up a prisoner in this state; I must have time."
"It is impossible," said Comminges; "the order is strict and
must be put into execution this instant."
"Impossible!" said Louvieres; "sir, beware of driving us to
despair."
"Impossible!" cried a shrill voice from the end of the room.
Comminges turned and saw Dame Nanette, her eyes flashing
with anger and a broom in her hand.
"My good Nanette, be quiet, I beseech you," said Broussel.
"Me! keep quiet while my master is being arrested! he, the
support, the liberator, the father of the people! Ah! well,
yes; you have to know me yet. Are you going?" added she to
Comminges.
The latter smiled.
"Come, sir," said he, addressing Broussel, "silence that
woman and follow me."
"Silence me! me! me!" said Nanette. "Ah! yet one wants some
one besides you for that, my fine king's cockatoo! You shall
see." And Dame Nanette sprang to the window, threw it open,
and in such a piercing voice that it might have been heard
in the square of Notre Dame:
"Help!" she screamed, "my master is being arrested; the
Councillor Broussel is being arrested! Help!"
"Sir," said Comminges, "declare yourself at once; will you
obey or do you intend to rebel against the king?"
"I obey, I obey, sir!" cried Broussel, trying to disengage
himself from the grasp of his two daughters and by a look
restrain his son, who seemed determined to dispute
authority.
"In that case," commanded Comminges, "silence that old
woman."
"Ah! old woman!" screamed Nanette.
And she began to shriek more loudly, clinging to the bars of
the window:
"Help! help! for Master Broussel, who is arrested because he
has defended the people! Help!"
Comminges seized the servant around the waist and would have
dragged her from her post; but at that instant a treble
voice, proceeding from a kind of entresol, was heard
screeching:
"Murder! fire! assassins! Master Broussel is being killed!
Master Broussel is being strangled."
It was Friquet's voice; and Dame Nanette, feeling herself
supported, recommenced with all her strength to sound her
shrilly squawk.
Many curious faces had already appeared at the windows and
the people attracted to the end of the street began to run,
first men, then groups, and then a crowd of people; hearing
cries and seeing a chariot they could not understand it; but
Friquet sprang from the entresol on to the top of the
carriage.
"They want to arrest Master Broussel!" he cried; "the guards
are in the carriage and the officer is upstairs!"
The crowd began to murmur and approached the house. The two
guards who had remained in the lane mounted to the aid of
Comminges; those who were in the chariot opened the doors
and presented arms.
"Don't you see them?" cried Friquet, "don't you see? there
they are!"
The coachman turning around, gave Friquet a slash with his
whip which made him scream with pain.
"Ah! devil's coachman!" cried Friquet, "you're meddling too!
Wait!"
And regaining his entresol he overwhelmed the coachman with
every projectile he could lay hands on.
The tumult now began to increase; the street was not able to
contain the spectators who assembled from every direction;
the crowd invaded the space which the dreaded pikes of the
guards had till then kept clear between them and the
carriage. The soldiers, pushed back by these living walls,
were in danger of being crushed against the spokes of the
wheels and the panels of the carriages. The cries which the
police officer repeated twenty times: "In the king's name,"
were powerless against this formidable multitude -- seemed,
on the contrary, to exasperate it still more; when, at the
shout, "In the name of the king," an officer ran up, and
seeing the uniforms ill-treated, he sprang into the scuffle
sword in hand, and brought unexpected help to the guards.
This gentleman was a young man, scarcely sixteen years of
age, now white with anger. He leaped from his charger,
placed his back against the shaft of the carriage, making a
rampart of his horse, drew his pistols from their holsters
and fastened them to his belt, and began to fight with the
back sword, like a man accustomed to the handling of his
weapon.
During ten minutes he alone kept the crowd at bay; at last
Comminges appeared, pushing Broussel before him.
"Let us break the carriage!" cried the people.
"In the king's name!" cried Comminges.
"The first who advances is a dead man!" cried Raoul, for it
was in fact he, who, feeling himself pressed and almost
crushed by a gigantic citizen, pricked him with the point of
his sword and sent him howling back.
Comminges, so to speak, threw Broussel into the carriage and
sprang in after him. At this moment a shot was fired and a
ball passed through the hat of Comminges and broke the arm
of one of the guards. Comminges looked up and saw amidst the
smoke the threatening face of Louvieres appearing at the
window of the second floor.
"Very well, sir," said Comminges, "you shall hear of this
anon."
"And you of me, sir," said Louvieres; "and we shall see then
who can speak the loudest."
Friquet and Nanette continued to shout; the cries, the noise
of the shot and the intoxicating smell of powder produced
their usual maddening effects.
"Down with the officer! down with him!" was the cry.
"One step nearer," said Comminges, putting down the sashes,
that the interior of the carriage might be well seen, and
placing his sword on his prisoner's breast, "one step
nearer, and I kill the prisoner; my orders were to carry him
off alive or dead. I will take him dead, that's all."
A terrible cry was heard, and the wife and daughters of
Broussel held up their hands in supplication to the people;
the latter knew that this officer, who was so pale, but who
appeared so determined, would keep his word; they continued
to threaten, but they began to disperse.
"Drive to the palace," said Comminges to the coachman, who
was by then more dead than alive.
The man whipped his animals, which cleared a way through the
crowd; but on arriving on the Quai they were obliged to
stop; the carriage was upset, the horses carried off,
stifled, mangled by the crowd. Raoul, on foot, for he had
not time to mount his horse again, tired, like the guards,
of distributing blows with the flat of his sword, had
recourse to its point. But this last and dreaded resource
served only to exasperate the multitude. From time to time a
shot from a musket or the blade of a rapier flashed among
the crowd; projectiles continued to hail down from the
windows and some shots were heard, the echo of which, though
they were probably fired in the air, made all hearts
vibrate. Voices, unheard except on days of revolution, were
distinguished; faces were seen that only appeared on days of
bloodshed. Cries of "Death! death to the guards! to the
Seine with the officer!" were heard above all the noise,
deafening as it was. Raoul, his hat in ribbons, his face
bleeding, felt not only his strength but also his reason
going; a red mist covered his sight, and through this mist
he saw a hundred threatening arms stretched over him, ready
to seize upon him when he fell. The guards were unable to
help any one -- each one was occupied with his
self-preservation. All was over; carriages, horses, guards,
and perhaps even the prisoner were about to be torn to
shreds, when all at once a voice well known to Raoul was
heard, and suddenly a great sword glittered in the air; at
the same time the crowd opened, upset, trodden down, and an
officer of the musketeers, striking and cutting right and
left, rushed up to Raoul and took him in his arms just as he
was about to fall.
"God's blood!" cried the officer, "have they killed him? Woe
to them if it be so!"
And he turned around, so stern with anger, strength and
threat, that the most excited rebels hustled back on one
another, in order to escape, and some of them even rolled
into the Seine.
"Monsieur d'Artagnan!" murmured Raoul.
"Yes, 'sdeath! in person, and fortunately it seems for you,
my young friend. Come on, here, you others," he continued,
rising in his stirrups, raising his sword, and addressing
those musketeers who had not been able to follow his rapid
onslaught. "Come, sweep away all that for me! Shoulder
muskets! Present arms! Aim ---- "
At this command the mountain of populace thinned so suddenly
that D'Artagnan could not repress a burst of Homeric
laughter.
"Thank you, D'Artagnan," said Comminges, showing half of his
body through the window of the broken vehicle, "thanks, my
young friend; your name -- that I may mention it to the
queen."
Raoul was about to reply when D'Artagnan bent down to his
ear.
"Hold your tongue," said he, "and let me answer. Do not lose
time, Comminges," he continued; "get out of the carriage if
you can and make another draw up; be quick, or in five
minutes the mob will be on us again with swords and muskets
and you will be killed. Hold! there's a carriage coming over
yonder."
Then bending again to Raoul, he whispered: "Above all things
do not divulge your name."
"That's right. I will go," said Comminges; "and if they come
back, fire!"
"Not at all -- not at all," replied D'Artagnan; "let no one
move. On the contrary, one shot at this moment would be paid
for dearly to-morrow."
Comminges took his four guards and as many musketeers and
ran to the carriage, from which he made the people inside
dismount, and brought them to the vehicle which had upset.
But when it was necessary to convey the prisoner from one
carriage to the other, the people, catching sight of him
whom they called their liberator, uttered every imaginable
cry and knotted themselves once more around the vehicle.
"Start, start!" said D'Artagnan. "There are ten men to
accompany you. I will keep twenty to hold in check the mob;
go, and lose not a moment. Ten men for Monsieur de
Comminges."
As the carriage started off the cries were redoubled and
more than ten thousand people thronged the Quai and
overflowed the Pont Neuf and adjacent streets. A few shots
were fired and one musketeer was wounded.
"Forward!" cried D'Artagnan, driven to extremities, biting
his moustache; and then he charged with his twenty men and
dispersed them in fear. One man alone remained in his place,
gun in hand.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, "it is thou who wouldst have him
assassinated? Wait an instant." And he pointed his gun at
D'Artagnan, who was riding toward him at full speed.
D'Artagnan bent down to his horse's neck the young man
fired, and the ball severed the feathers from the hat. The
horse started, brushed against the imprudent man, who
thought by his strength alone to stay the tempest, and he
fell against the wall. D'Artagnan pulled up his horse, and
whilst his musketeers continued to charge, he returned and
bent with drawn sword over the man he had knocked down.
"Oh, sir!" exclaimed Raoul, recognizing the young man as
having seen him in the Rue Cocatrix, "spare him! it is his
son!"
D'Artagnan's arm dropped to his side. "Ah, you are his son!"
he said; "that is a different thing."
"Sir, I surrender," said Louvieres, presenting his unloaded
musket to the officer.
"Eh, no! do not surrender, egad! On the contrary, be off,
and quickly. If I take you, you will be hung!"
The young man did not wait to be told twice, but passing
under the horse's head disappeared at the corner of the Rue
Guenegaud.
"I'faith!" said D'Artagnan to Raoul, "you were just in time
to stay my hand. He was a dead man; and on my honor, if I
had discovered that it was his son, I should have regretted
having killed him."
"Ah! sir!" said Raoul, "allow me, after thanking you for
that poor fellow's life, to thank you on my own account. I
too, sir, was almost dead when you arrived."
"Wait, wait, young man; do not fatigue yourself with
speaking. We can talk of it afterward."
Then seeing that the musketeers had cleared the Quai from
the Pont Neuf to the Quai Saint Michael, he raised his sword
for them to double their speed. The musketeers trotted up,
and at the same time the ten men whom D'Artagnan had given
to Comminges appeared.
"Halloo!" cried D'Artagnan; "has something fresh happened?"
"Eh, sir!" replied the sergeant, "their vehicle has broken
down a second time; it really must be doomed."
"They are bad managers," said D'Artagnan, shrugging his
shoulders. "When a carriage is chosen, it ought to be
strong. The carriage in which a Broussel is to be arrested
ought to be able to bear ten thousand men."
"What are your commands, lieutenant?"
"Take the detachment and conduct him to his place."
"But you will be left alone?"
"Certainly. So you suppose I have need of an escort? Go."
The musketeers set off and D'Artagnan was left alone with
Raoul.
"Now," he said, "are you in pain?"
"Yes; my head is not only swimming but burning."
"What's the matter with this head?" said D'Artagnan, raising
the battered hat. "Ah! ah! a bruise."
"Yes, I think I received a flower-pot upon my head."
"Brutes!" said D'Artagnan. "But were you not on horseback?
you have spurs."
"Yes, but I got down to defend Monsieur de Comminges and my
horse was taken away. Here it is, I see."
At this very moment Friquet passed, mounted on Raoul's
horse, waving his parti-colored cap and crying, "Broussel!
Broussel!"
"Halloo! stop, rascal!" cried D'Artagnan. "Bring hither that
horse."
Friquet heard perfectly, but he pretended not to do so and
tried to continue his road. D'Artagnan felt inclined for an
instant to pursue Master Friquet, but not wishing to leave
Raoul alone he contented himself with taking a pistol from
the holster and cocking it.
Friquet had a quick eye and a fine ear. He saw D'Artagnan's
movement, heard the sound of the click, and stopped at once.
"Ah! it is you, your honor," he said, advancing toward
D'Artagnan; "and I am truly pleased to meet you."
D'Artagnan looked attentively at Friquet and recognized the
little chorister of the Rue de la Calandre.
"Ah! 'tis thou, rascal!" said he, "come here: so thou hast
changed thy trade; thou art no longer a choir boy nor a
tavern boy; thou hast become a horse stealer?"
"Ah, your honor, how can you say so?" exclaimed Friquet. "I
was seeking the gentleman to whom this horse belongs -- an
officer, brave and handsome as a youthful Caesar; "then,
pretending to see Raoul for the first time:
"Ah! but if I mistake not," continued he, "here he is; you
won't forget the boy, sir."
Raoul put his hand in his pocket.
"What are you about?" asked D'Artagnan.
"To give ten francs to this honest fellow," replied Raoul,
taking a pistole from his pocket.
"Ten kicks on his back!" said D'Artagnan; "be off, you
little villain, and forget not that I have your address."
Friquet, who did not expect to be let off so cheaply,
bounded off like a gazelle up the Quai a la Rue Dauphine,
and disappeared. Raoul mounted his horse, and both leisurely
took their way to the Rue Tiquetonne.
D'Artagnan watched over the youth as if he had been his own
son.
They arrived without accident at the Hotel de la Chevrette.
The handsome Madeleine announced to D'Artagnan that Planchet
had returned, bringing Mousqueton with him, who had
heroically borne the extraction of the ball and was as well
as his state would permit.
D'Artagnan desired Planchet to be summoned, but he had
disappeared.
"Then bring some wine," said D'Artagnan. "You are much
pleased with yourself," said he to Raoul when they were
alone, "are you not?"
"Well, yes," replied Raoul. "It seems to me I did my duty. I
defended the king."
"And who told you to defend the king?"
"The Comte de la Fere himself."
"Yes, the king; but to-day you have not fought for the king,
you have fought for Mazarin; which is not quite the same
thing."
"But you yourself?"
"Oh, for me; that is another matter. I obey my captain's
orders. As for you, your captain is the prince, understand
that rightly; you have no other. But has one ever seen such
a wild fellow," continued he, "making himself a Mazarinist
and helping to arrest Broussel! Breathe not a word of that,
or the Comte de la Fere will be furious."
"You think the count will be angry with me?"
"Think it? I'm certain of it; were it not for that, I should
thank you, for you have worked for us. However, I scold you
instead of him, and in his place; the storm will blow over
more easily, believe me. And moreover, my dear child,"
continued D'Artagnan, "I am making use of the privilege
conceded to me by your guardian."
"I do not understand you, sir," said Raoul.
D'Artagnan rose, and taking a letter from his writing-desk,
presented it to Raoul. The face of the latter became serious
when he had cast his eyes upon the paper.
"Oh, mon Dieu!" he said, raising his fine eyes to
D'Artagnan, moist with tears, "the count has left Paris
without seeing me?"
"He left four days ago," said D'Artagnan.
"But this letter seems to intimate that he is about to incur
danger, perhaps death."
"He -- he -- incur danger of death! No, be not anxious; he
is traveling on business and will return ere long. I hope
you have no repugnance to accept me as your guardian in the
interim."
"Oh, no, Monsieur d'Artagnan," said Raoul, "you are such a
brave gentleman and the Comte de la Fere has so much
affection for you!"
"Eh! Egad! love me too; I will not torment you much, but
only on condition that you become a Frondist, my young
friend, and a hearty Frondist, too."
"But can I continue to visit Madame de Chevreuse?"
"I should say you could! and the coadjutor and Madame de
Longueville; and if the worthy Broussel were there, whom you
so stupidly helped arrest, I should tell you to excuse
yourself to him at once and kiss him on both cheeks."
"Well, sir, I will obey you, although I do not understand
you.
"It is unnecessary for you to understand. Hold," continued
D'Artagnan, turning toward the door, which had just opened,
"here is Monsieur du Vallon, who comes with his coat torn."
"Yes, but in exchange," said Porthos, covered with
perspiration and soiled by dust, "in exchange, I have torn
many skins. Those wretches wanted to take away my sword!
Deuce take 'em, what a popular commotion!" continued the
giant, in his quiet manner; "but I knocked down more than
twenty with the hilt of Balizarde. A draught of wine,
D'Artagnan."
"Oh, I'll aswer for you," said the Gascon, filling Porthos's
glass to the brim; "but when you have drunk, give me your
opinion."
"Upon what?" asked Porthos.
"Look here," resumed D'Artagnan; "here is Monsieur de
Bragelonne, who determined at all risks to aid the arrest of
Broussel and whom I had great difficulty to prevent
defending Monsieur de Comminges."
"The devil!" said Porthos; "and his guardian, what would he
have said to that?"
"Do you hear?" interrupted D'Artagnan; "become a Frondist,
my friend, belong to the Fronde, and remember that I fill
the count's place in everything;" and he jingled his money.
"Will you come?" said he to Porthos.
"Where?" asked Porthos, filling a second glass of wine.
"To present our respects to the cardinal."
Porthos swallowed the second glass with the same grace with
which he had imbibed the first, took his beaver and followed
D'Artagnan. As for Raoul, he remained bewildered with what
he had seen, having been forbidden by D'Artagnan to leave
the room until the tumult was over.
