79
The Road to Picardy.
On leaving Paris, Athos and Aramis well knew that they would
be encountering great danger; but we know that for men like
these there could be no question of danger. Besides, they
felt that the denouement of this second Odyssey was at hand
and that there remained but a single effort to make.
Besides, there was no tranquillity in Paris itself.
Provisions began to fail, and whenever one of the Prince de
Conti's generals wished to gain more influence he got up a
little popular tumult, which he put down again, and thus for
the moment gained a superiority over his colleagues.
In one of these risings. the Duc de Beaufort pillaged the
house and library of Mazarin, in order to give the populace,
as he put it, something to gnaw at. Athos and Aramis left
Paris after this coup-d'etat, which took place on the very
evening of the day in which the Parisians had been beaten at
Charenton.
They quitted Paris, beholding it abandoned to extreme want,
bordering on famine; agitated by fear, torn by faction.
Parisians and Frondeurs as they were, the two friends
expected to find the same misery, the same fears, the same
intrigue in the enemy's camp; but what was their surprise,
after passing Saint Denis, to hear that at Saint Germain
people were singing and laughing, and leading generally
cheerful lives. The two gentlemen traveled by byways in
order not to encounter the Mazarinists scattered about the
Isle of France, and also to escape the Frondeurs, who were
in possession of Normandy and who never failed to conduct
captives to the Duc de Longueville, in order that he might
ascertain whether they were friends or foes. Having escaped
these dangers, they returned by the main road to Boulogne,
at Abbeville, and followed it step by step, examining every
track.
Nevertheless, they were still in a state of uncertainty.
Several inns were visited by them, several innkeepers
questioned, without a single clew being given to guide their
inquiries, when at Montreuil Athos felt upon the table that
something rough was touching his delicate fingers. He turned
up the cloth and found these hieroglyphics carved upon the
wood with a knife:
"Port .... D'Art .... 2d February."
"This is capital!" said Athos to Aramis, "we were to have
slept here, but we cannot -- we must push on." They rode
forward and reached Abbeville. There the great number of
inns puzzled them; they could not go to all; how could they
guess in which those whom they were seeking had stayed?
"Trust me," said Aramis, "do not expect to find anything in
Abbeville. If we had only been looking for Porthos, Porthos
would have stationed himself in one of the finest hotels and
we could easily have traced him. But D'Artagnan is devoid of
such weaknesses. Porthos would have found it very difficult
even to make him see that he was dying of hunger; he has
gone on his road as inexorable as fate and we must seek him
somewhere else."
They continued their route. It had now become a weary and
almost hopeless task, and had it not been for the threefold
motives of honor, friendship and gratitude, implanted in
their hearts, our two travelers would have given up many a
time their rides over the sand, their interrogatories of the
peasantry and their close inspection of faces.
They proceeded thus to Peronne.
Athos began to despair. His noble nature felt that their
ignorance was a sort of reflection upon them. They had not
looked carefully enough for their lost friends. They had not
shown sufficient pertinacity in their inquiries. They were
willing and ready to retrace their steps, when, in crossing
the suburb which leads to the gates of the town, upon a
white wall which was at the corner of a street turning
around the rampart, Athos cast his eyes upon a drawing in
black chalk, which represented, with the awkwardness of a
first attempt, two cavaliers riding furiously; one of them
carried a roll of paper on which were written these words:
"They are following us."
"Oh!" exclaimed Athos, "here it is, as clear as day; pursued
as he was, D'Artagnan would not have tarried here five
minutes had he been pressed very closely, which gives us
hopes that he may have succeeded in escaping."
Aramis shook his head.
"Had he escaped we should either have seen him or have heard
him spoken of."
"You are right, Aramis, let us travel on."
To describe the impatience and anxiety of these two friends
would be impossible. Uneasiness took possession of the
tender, constant heart of Athos, and fearful forecasts were
the torment of the impulsive Aramis. They galloped on for
two or three hours as furiously as the cavaliers on the
wall. All at once, in a narrow pass, they perceived that the
road was partially barricaded by an enormous stone. It had
evidently been rolled across the pass by some arm of giant
strength.
Aramis stopped.
"Oh!" he said, looking at the stone, "this is the work of
either Hercules or Porthos. Let us get down, count, and
examine this rock."
They both alighted. The stone had been brought with the
evident intention of barricading the road, but some one
having perceived the obstacle had partially turned it aside.
With the assistance of Blaisois and Grimaud the friends
succeeded in turning the stone over. Upon the side next the
ground were scratched the following words:
"Eight of the light dragoons are pursuing us. If we reach
Compiegne we shall stop at the Peacock. It is kept by a
friend of ours."
"At last we have something definite," said Athos; "let us go
to the Peacock."
"Yes," answered Aramis, "but if we are to get there we must
rest our horses, for they are almost broken-winded."
Aramis was right; they stopped at the first tavern and made
each horse swallow a double quantity of corn steeped in
wine; they gave them three hours' rest and then set off
again. The men themselves were almost dead with fatigue, but
hope supported them.
In six hours they reached Compiegne and alighted at the
Peacock. The host proved to be a worthy man, as bald as a
Chinaman. They asked him if some time ago he had not
received in his house two gentlemen who were pursued by
dragoons; without answering he went out and brought in the
blade of a rapier.
"Do you know that?" he asked.
Athos merely glanced at it.
"'Tis D'Artagnan's sword," he said.
"Does it belong to the smaller or to the larger of the two?"
asked the host.
"To the smaller."
"I see that you are the friends of these gentlemen."
"Well, what has happened to them?"
"They were pursued by eight of the light dragoons, who rode
into the courtyard before they had time to close the gate."
"Eight!" said Aramis; "it surprises me that two such heroes
as Porthos and D'Artagnan should have allowed themselves to
be arrested by eight men."
"The eight men would doubtless have failed had they not been
assisted by twenty soldiers of the regiment of Italians in
the king's service, who are in garrison in this town so that
your friends were overpowered by numbers."
"Arrested, were they?" inquired Athos; "is it known why?"
"No, sir, they were carried off instantly, and had not even
time to tell me why; but as soon as they were gone I found
this broken sword-blade, as I was helping to raise two dead
men and five or six wounded ones."
"'Tis still a consolation that they were not wounded," said
Aramis.
"Where were they taken?" asked Athos.
"Toward the town of Louvres," was the reply.
The two friends having agreed to leave Blaisois and Grimaud
at Compiegne with the horses, resolved to take post horses;
and having snatched a hasty dinner they continued their
journey to Louvres. Here they found only one inn, in which
was consumed a liqueur which preserves its reputation to our
time and which is still made in that town.
"Let us alight here," said Athos. "D'Artagnan will not have
let slip an opportunity of drinking a glass of this liqueur,
and at the same time leaving some trace of himself."
They went into the town and asked for two glasses of
liqueur, at the counter -- as their friends must have done
before them. The counter was covered with a plate of pewter;
upon this plate was written with the point of a large pin:
"Rueil . . . D . ."
"They went to Rueil," cried Aramis.
"Let us go to Rueil," said Athos.
"It is to throw ourselves into the wolf's jaws," said
Aramis.
"Had I been as great a friend of Jonah as I am of D'Artagnan
I should have followed him even into the inside of the whale
itself; and you would have done the same, Aramis."
"Certainly -- but you make me out better than I am, dear
count. Had I been alone I should scarcely have gone to Rueil
without great caution. But where you go, I go."
They then set off for Rueil. Here the deputies of the
parliament had just arrived, in order to enter upon those
famous conferences which were to last three weeks, and
produced eventually that shameful peace, at the conclusion
of which the prince was arrested. Rueil was crowded with
advocates, presidents and councillors, who came from the
Parisians, and, on the side of the court, with officers and
guards; it was therefore easy, in the midst of this
confusion, to remain as unobserved as any one might wish;
besides, the conferences implied a truce, and to arrest two
gentlemen, even Frondeurs, at this time, would have been an
attack on the rights of the people.
The two friends mingled with the crowd and fancied that
every one was occupied with the same thought that tormented
them. They expected to hear some mention made of D'Artagnan
or of Porthos, but every one was engrossed by articles and
reforms. It was the advice of Athos to go straight to the
minister.
"My friend," said Aramis, "take care; our safety lies in our
obscurity. If we were to make ourselves known we should be
sent to rejoin our friends in some deep ditch, from which
the devil himself could not take us out. Let us try not to
find them out by accident, but from our notions. Arrested at
Compiegne, they have been carried to Rueil; at Rueil they
have been questioned by the cardinal, who has either kept
them near him or sent them to Saint Germain. As to the
Bastile, they are not there, though the Bastile is
especially for the Frondeurs. They are not dead, for the
death of D'Artagnan would make a sensation. As for Porthos,
I believe him to be eternal, like God, although less
patient. Do not let us despond, but wait at Rueil, for my
conviction is that they are at Rueil. But what ails you? You
are pale."
"It is this," answered Athos, with a trembling voice.
"I remember that at the Castle of Rueil the Cardinal
Richelieu had some horrible `oubliettes' constructed."
"Oh! never fear," said Aramis. "Richelieu was a gentleman,
our equal in birth, our superior in position. He could, like
the king, touch the greatest of us on the head, and touching
them make such heads shake on their shoulders. But Mazarin
is a low-born rogue, who can at the most take us by the
collar, like an archer. Be calm -- for I am sure that
D'Artagnan and Porthos are at Rueil, alive and well."
"But," resumed Athos, "I recur to my first proposal. I know
no better means than to act with candor. I shall seek, not
Mazarin, but the queen, and say to her, `Madame, restore to
us your two servants and our two friends.'"
Aramis shook his head.
"'Tis a last resource, but let us not employ it till it is
imperatively called for; let us rather persevere in our
researches."
They continued their inquiries and at last met with a light
dragoon who had formed one of the guard which had escorted
D'Artagnan to Rueil.
Athos, however, perpetually recurred to his proposed
interview with the queen.
"In order to see the queen," said Aramis, "we must first see
the cardinal; and when we have seen the cardinal -- remember
what I tell you, Athos -- we shall be reunited to our
friends, but not in the way you wish. Now, that way of
joining them is not very attractive to me, I confess. Let us
act in freedom, that we may act well and quickly."
"I shall go," he said, "to the queen."
"Well, then," answered Aramis, "pray tell me a day or two
beforehand, that I may take that opportunity of going to
Paris."
"To whom?"
"Zounds! how do I know? perhaps to Madame de Longueville.
She is all-powerful yonder; she will help me. But send me
word should you be arrested, for then I will return
directly."
"Why do you not take your chance and be arrested with me?"
"No, I thank you."
"Should we, by being arrested, be all four together again,
we should not, I am not sure, be twenty-four hours in prison
without getting free."
"My friend, since I killed Chatillon, adored of the ladies
of Saint Germain, I am too great a celebrity not to fear a
prison doubly. The queen is likely to follow Mazarin's
counsels and to have me tried."
"Do you think she loves this Italian so much as they say she
does?"
"Did she not love an Englishman?"
"My friend, she is a woman."
"No, no, you are deceived -- she is a queen."
"Dear friend, I shall sacrifice myself and go and see Anne
of Austria."
"Adieu, Athos, I am going to raise an army."
"For what purpose?"
"To come back and besiege Rueil."
"Where shall we meet again?"
"At the foot of the cardinal's gallows."
The two friends departed -- Aramis to return to Paris, Athos
to take measures preparatory to an interview with the queen.
