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Chapter XVII
Chapter XVII
Bonacieux At Home
It was the second time the cardinal had mentioned these diamond studs
to the king. Louis XIII. was struck with these repetitions, and began to
fancy that this recommendation concealed some mystery.
More than once the king had been humiliated by the cardinal, whose
police, without having yet attained the perfection of the modern police, was
excellent, being better informed than himself even upon what was going on in
his own household. He hoped, then, in conversation with Anne of Austria, to
obtain some information from that conversation, and afterward, to come upon
his eminence with some secret, which the cardinal either knew or did not
know, but which, in either case, would raise him infinitely in the eyes of
his minister.
He went then to the queen, and, according to custom, accosted her with
fresh menaces against those who surrounded her. Anne of Austria hung down
her head, allowed the torrent to flow on without replying, and hoped that it
would end by stopping of itself; but this was not what Louis XIII. meant;
Louis XIII. wanted a discussion, from which some light or other might break,
convinced as he was that the cardinal had some after-thought, and was
preparing for him one of those terrible surprises which his eminence was so
skillful in getting up. He arrived at this end by his persistence in
accusing.
"But," cried Anne of Austria, tired of these vague attacks; "but, sire,
you do not tell me all that you have in your heart. What have I done, then?
Let me know what crime I have committed? It is impossible that your majesty
can make all this to-do about a letter written to my brother!"
The king, attacked in a manner so direct, did not know what to answer;
and he thought that this was the moment for expressing the desire which he
was not to have made until the evening before the fete.
"Madame," said he, with dignity, "there will shortly be a ball at the
Hotel de Ville; I wish that, to do honor to our worthy echevins, you should
appear at it in ceremonial costume, and particularly ornamented with the
diamond studs which I gave you on your birthday. That is my answer."
The answer was terrible. Anne of Austria believed that Louis XIII. knew
all, and that the cardinal had persuaded him to employ this long
dissimulation of seven or eight days, which, likewise, was characteristic.
She became excessively pale, leaned her beautiful hand upon a console, which
hand appeared then like one of wax, and looking at the king with terror in
her eyes, she was unable to reply by a single syllable.
"You hear, madame," said the king, who enjoyed this embarrassment to its
full extent, but without guessing the cause - "You hear, madame?"
"Yes, sire, I hear," stammered the queen.
"You will appear at this ball?"
"Yes."
"And with those studs?"
"Yes."
The queen`s paleness, if possible, increased; the king perceived it and
enjoyed it with that cold cruelty which was one of the worst sides of his
character.
"Then that is agreed," said the king, "and that is all I had to say to
you."
"But on what day will this ball take place?" asked Anne of Austria.
Louis XIII. felt instinctively that he ought not to reply to this
question, the queen having put it in an almost inaudible voice.
"Oh! very shortly, madame," said he, "but I do not precisely recollect
the date of the day; I will ask the cardinal."
"It was the cardinal, then, who informed you of this fete?"
"Yes, madame," replied the astonished king; "but why do you ask that?"
"It was he who told you to desire me to appear there with these studs?"
"That is to say, madame - "
"It was he, sire, it was he!"
"Well; and what does it signify whether it was he or I? is there any
crime in this request?"
"No, sire."
"Then you will appear?"
"Yes, sire."
"That`s well," said the king, retiring, "that`s well, I depend upon
you."
The queen made a courtesy, less from etiquette than because her knees
were sinking under her.
"I am lost," murmured the queen, "lost! for the cardinal knows all, and
it is he who urges on the king, who as yet knows nothing, but will soon know
everything. I am lost! my God! my God! my God!"
She knelt upon a cushion and prayed, with her head buried between her
palpitating arms.
In fact, her position was terrible. Buckingham had returned to London,
Madame de Crevreuse was at Tours. More closely watched then ever, the queen
felt certain that one of her women betrayed her, without knowing how to tell
which. Laporte could not leave the Louvre; she had not a soul in the world
in whom she could confide.
Thus, while contemplating the misfortune which threatened her, and the
abandonment in which she was left, she broke out into sobs and tears.
"Can I be of no service to your majesty?" said all at once a voice full
of sweetness and pity.
The queen turned sharply round, for there could be no deception in the
expression of that voice: it was a friend who spoke thus.
In fact, at one of the doors which opened into the queen`s apartment,
appeared the pretty Madame Bonacieux; she had been engaged in arranging the
dresses and linen in a closet, when the king entered; she could not get out,
and had heard all.
The queen uttered a piercing cry at finding herself surprised, for in
her trouble she did not at first recognize the young woman who had been given
to her by Laporte.
"Oh! fear nothing, madame!" said the young woman, clasping her hands,
and weeping herself at the queen`s sorrows; "I am your majesty`s, body and
soul, and however far I may be from you, however inferior may be my position,
I believe I have discovered a means of extricating your majesty from your
trouble."
"You! oh heavens! you!" cried the queen; "but look me in the face; I
am betrayed on all sides; can I trust in you?"
"Oh! madame!" cried the young woman, falling on her knees, "upon my
soul, I am ready to die for your majesty!"
This expression sprang from the very bottom of the heart, and, like the
first, there was no mistaking it.
"Yes," continued Madame Bonacieux, "yes, there are traitors here; but
by the holy name of the Virgin, I swear that none is more devoted to your
majesty than I am. Those studs, which the king speaks of, you gave them to
the Duke of Buckingham, did you not? Those studs were in a little rosewood
box, which he held under his arm? Am I deceived? Is it not so, madame?"
"Oh, my God! my God!" murmured the queen, whose teeth chattered with
fright.
"Well, those tuds," continued Madame Bonacieux, "we must have them back
again."
"Yes, without doubt, it must be so," cried the queen, "but how am I to
act? How can it be effected?"
"Some one must be sent to the duke."
"But who? who? in whom can I trust?"
"Place confidence in me, madame; do me that honor, my queen, and I will
find a messenger."
"But I must write."
"Oh, yes; that is indispensable. Two words from the hands of your
majesty and your own private seal."
"But these two words would bring about my condemnation, divorce, exile!"
"Yes, if they fell into infamous hands. But I will answer for these two
words being delivered to their address."
"Oh, my God! I must then place my life, my honor, my reputation, all
in your hands?"
"Yes, yes, madame, you must, and I will save them all."
"But how - tell me at least, how?"
"My husband has been set at liberty these two or three days; I have not
yet had time to see him again. He is a worthy, honest man, who entertains
neither love nor hatred for anybody. He will do anything I wish; he will set
out upon receiving an order from me, without knowing what he carries, and he
will remit your majesty`s letter, without even knowing it is from your
majesty, to the address which shall be upon it."
The queen took the two hands of the young woman with a burst of emotion,
gazed at her as if to read her very heart, and seeing nothing but sincerity
in her beautiful eyes, embraced her tenderly.
"Do that," cried she, "and you will have saved my life, you will have
saved my honor!"
"Oh! do not exaggerate the service I have the happiness to render your
majesty; I have nothing of your majesty`s to save, who are only the victim
of perfidious plots."
"That is true, that is true, my child," said the queen, "you are right."
"Give me then that letter, madame; time presses."
The queen ran to a little table, upon which were pens, ink, and paper;
she wrote two lines, sealed the letter with her private seal, and gave it to
Madame Bonacieux.
"And now," said the queen, "we are forgetting one very necessary thing."
"What is that, madame?"
"Money."
Madame Bonacieux blushed.
"Yes, that is true," said she, "and I will confess to your majesty that
my husband - "
"Your husband has none; is that what you would say?"
"Oh! yes, he has some, but he is very avaricious, that is his fault.
Nevertheless, let not your majesty be uneasy, we will find means."
"And I have none, either," said the queen. Such as have read the
Memoirs of Madame de Motteville will not be astonished at this reply. "But
wait a minute."
Anne of Austria ran to her jewel case.
"Here," said she, "here is a ring of great value, as I have been
assured; it came from my brother, the king of Spain; it is mine, and I am at
liberty to dispose of it. Take this ring, make money of it, and let your
husband set out."
"In an hour, you shall be obeyed, madame."
"You see the address," said the queen, speaking so low that Madame
Bonacieux could hardly hear what she said - "To Milord Duke of Buckingham,
London."
"The letter shall be given to him himself."
"Generous girl!" cried Anne of Austria.
Madame Bonacieux kissed the hands of the queen, concealed the paper in
the bosom of her dress, and disappeared with the lightness of a bird.
Ten minutes afterward she was at home; as she told the queen, she had
not seen her husband since his liberation, she was ignorant of the change
that had taken place in him with respect to the cardinal, a change which had
since been strengthened by two or three visits from the Count de Rochefort,
who had become the best friend of Bonacieux, and had persuaded him that
nothing culpable had been intended by the carrying off of his wife, but that
it was only a piece of political precaution.
She found Bonacieux alone: the poor man was restoring with much trouble,
order in his house, the furniture of which he had found mostly broken, and
his chests and drawers mostly empty, justice not being one of the three
things which King Solomon named as leaving no traces of their passage. As
to the servant, she had run away at the moment of her master`s arrest.
Terror had had such an effect upon the poor girl, that she had never ceased
walking from Paris till she got to Burgundy, her native place.
The worthy mercer had, immediately upon entering his house, communicated
to his wife the news of his happy return, and his wife had replied by
congratulating him, and telling him that the first moment she could steal
from her duties should be devoted to paying him a visit.
The first moment had been delayed five days, which, under any other
circumstances, might have appeared rather long to Master Bonacieux; but he
had, in the visit he had made to the cardinal, and in the visits Rochefort
had made him, ample subjects for reflection, and, as everybody knows, nothing
makes time pass more quickly than reflection.
This was all so much the more so from Bonacieux`s reflections all being
couleur de rose. Rochefort called him his friend, his dear Bonacieux, and
never ceased telling him that the cardinal had a great respect for him. The
mercer fancied himself already in the high road to honors and fortune.
On her side, Madame Bonacieux had also reflected, but it must be
admitted, upon something widely different from ambition: in spite of herself,
her thoughts constantly reverted to that handsome young man, who was so
brave, and appeared to be so much in love. Married at eighteen to Monsieur
Bonacieux, having always lived among her husband`s friends, people very
little susceptible of inspiring any sentiment whatever in a young woman whose
heart was above her position, Madame Bonacieux had remained insensible to
vulgar seductions: but at this period the title of gentleman had a
particularly great influence with the bourgeoise, or citizen class, and
D`Artagnan was a gentleman; besides, he wore the uniform of the guards,
which, next to that of the musketeers, was most admired by the ladies. He
was, we repeat, handsome, young, and bold; he spoke of love like a man who
did love, and was anxious to be loved in return: there was certainly enough
in all this to turn a head only twenty-three years old, and Madame Bonacieux
had just attained that happy period of life.
The married couple then, although they had not seen each other for eight
days, and during that time serious events had taken place in which both were
concerned, accosted each other with a degree of preoccupation: nevertheless,
M. Bonacieux manifested real joy, and advanced toward his wife with open
arms.
"Madame Bonacieux presented her cheek to him.
"Let us talk a little," said she.
"How!" said Bonacieux, astonished.
"Yes; I have something of great importance to tell you."
"True," said he, "and I have some questions sufficiently serious to put
to you. Describe to me how you were carried off."
"Oh! that`s of no consequence just now," said Madame Bonacieux.
"And what does it allude to then? To my captivity!"
"I heard of it the day it happened; but as you were not guilty of any
crime, as you were not guilty of any intrigue, as you, in short, knew nothing
that could compromise yourself or anybody else, I attached little more
importance to that event than it merited."
"You speak pretty much at your ease, madame," said Bonacieux, hurt at
the little interest his wife seemed to take in him; "do you know that I was
plunged during a whole day and a whole night in a dungeon of the Bastille?"
"Oh! a day and night soon pass away; let us return to the object that
brings me here."
"What! to that which brings you home to me! It is not the desire of
seeing a husband again from whom you have been separated for a week?" asked
the mercer, piqued to the quick.
"Yes, that first, and other things afterward."
"Speak then."
"It is a thing of the highest interest, and upon which our future
fortune perhaps depends."
"The complexion of our fortune has changed very much since I saw you,
Madame Bonacieux, and I should not be astonished if, in the course of a few
months, it were to excite envy of many folks."
"Particularly if you obey the instructions I am about to give you."
"To me?"
"Yes, to you. There is a good and holy action to be performed,
monsieur, and much money to be gained at the same time."
Madame Bonacieux knew that when naming money to her husband, she
attacked him on his weak side. But a man, were he even a mercer, when he has
talked for ten minutes with the Cardinal de Richelieu, is no longer the same
man.
"Much money to be gained?" said Bonacieux, protruding his lip.
"Yes, much."
"About how much, pray?"
"A thousand pistoles, perhaps."
"Humph! What you have to ask me then is serious!"
"It is indeed."
"What is to be done?"
"You must set out immediately; I will give you a paper which you must
not part with on any account, and which you will deliver into the proper
hands."
"And where am I to go?"
"London."
"I go to London! You are joking, I have nothing to do in London."
"But others require that you should go there."
"But who are those others? I warn you that I will never again work in
the dark, and that I will know not only to what I expose myself, but for whom
I expose myself."
"An illustrious person sends you, an illustrious person awaits you; the
recompense will exceed your expectations, that is all I promise you."
"More intrigues! nothing but intrigues! Thank you, madame, I am aware
of them now; Monsieur le Cardinal has enlightened me on that head."
"The cardinal?" cried Madame Bonacieux; "have you seen the cardinal!"
"He sent for me," answered the mercer proudly.
"And you went! you imprudent man!"
"Well, I can`t say I had much choice in going or not going, for I was
taken to him between two guards. I must also confess that as I did not then
know his eminence, if I had been able to have declined the visit, I should
have been delighted to have done so."
"He ill-treated you, then? he threatened you?"
"He gave me his hand, and he called me his friend - his friend! do you
hear that, madame? I am the friend of the great cardinal!"
"Of the great cardinal!"
"Perhaps you would dispute his right to that title, madame?"
"Oh! I would dispute his right to nothing; but I tell you that the
favor of a minister is ephemeral, and that a man must be mad to attach
himself to a minister; there are powers above his which do not depend upon
a man or the issue of an event; it is around these powers we should endeavor
to range ourselves."
"I am sorry for it, madame, but I acknowledge no other power but that
of the great man whom I have the honor to serve."
"You serve the cardinal?"
"Yes, madame, and as his servant, I will not allow you to be concerned
in plots against the safety of the state, or to assist in the intrigues of
a woman who is not a Frenchwoman, and who has a Spanish heart. Fortunately,
we have the great cardinal, his vigilant eye watches over and penetrates to
the bottom of hearts."
Bonacieux was repeating, word for word, a sentence which he had heard
the Count de Rochefort make use of; but the poor wife, who had reckoned on
her husband, and who, in that hope, had answered for him to the queen, did
not tremble the less, both at the danger into which she had nearly cast
herself, and at the helpless state to which she was reduced. Nevertheless,
knowing the weakness of her husband, and more particularly his cupidity, she
did not despair of bringing him round to her purpose.
"Ah! you are a cardinalist! then, monsieur, are you?" cried she, "and
you serve the party who ill-treat your wife and insult your queen?"
"Private interests are as nothing before the interests of all. I am for
those who save the state," said Bonacieux emphatically.
This was another of the Count de Rochefort`s sentences which he had
retained, and which he sought an occasion to make use of.
"And what do you know about the state you talk of?" said Madame
Bonacieux, shrugging her shoulders. "Be satisfied with being a plain,
straightforward bourgeois, and turn your attention to that side which holds
out the greatest advantages."
"Eh! eh!" said Bonacieux, slapping a plump, round bag, which returned
a sound of money; "what do you think of this, madame preacher?"
"Where does that money come from?"
"Can`t you guess?"
"From the cardinal?"
"From him, and from my friend the Count de Rochefort."
"The Count de Rochefort! why, it was he who carried me off!"
"Perhaps it was, madame."
"And you receive money from that man!"
"Did you not yourself tell me that that carrying off was entirely
political?"
"Yes, but that event had for its object to make me betray my mistress,
to draw from me by tortures confessions that might have compromised the
honor, and perhaps the life of my august mistress."
"Madame," replied Bonacieux, "your august mistress is a perfidious
Spaniard, and what the cardinal does is well done."
"Monsieur," said the young woman, "I know you to be cowardly,
avaricious, and weak, but I never till now believed you to be infamous!"
"Madame!" said Bonacieux, who had never seen his wife in a passion, and
who retreated before this conjugal anger; "madame, what is that you say?"
"I say you are a miserable mean creature!" continued Madame Bonacieux,
who saw she was regaining some little influence over her husband. "You
meddle with politics, do you? And still more, with cardinalist politics!
Why, you are selling yourself, body and soul, to the devil, for money!"
"No, but to the cardinal."
"It`s the same thing!" cried the young woman. "Who says Richelieu says
Satan!"
"Hold your tongue! hold your tongue, madame; we may be overheard."
"Yes, you are right, I should be ashamed for any one to know your
baseness."
"But what do you require of me, then; come, let us see!"
"I have told you: you must set out instantly, monsieur; you must
accomplish loyally the commission with which I deign to charge you, and on
that condition I pardon everything, I forget everything; and still further"
- and she held out her hand to him - "I give you my love again."
Bonacieux was a coward, and he was avaricious, but he loved his wife -
he was softened. A man of fifty cannot long bear malice with a pretty wife
of twenty-three. Madame Bonacieux saw that he hesitated.
"Come! have you made your mind up?" said she.
"But, my dear love! reflect a little upon what you require of me.
London is far from Paris, very far, and perhaps the commission with which you
charge me is not without dangers?"
"Of what consequence is that, if you avoid them?"
"Well, then, Madame Bonacieux," said the mercer, "well, then, I
positively refuse: intrigues terrify me. I have seen the Bastille; I - whew!
- that`s a frightful place, that Bastille! only to think of it makes my
flesh crawl. They threatened me with torture! Do you know what the torture
is? Wooden points that they stick in between your legs till your bones burst
out! No, positively I will not go. And, morbleu! why do you not go
yourself? for, in truth, I think I have hitherto been deceived in you; I
really believe you are a man, and a violent one too."
"And you, you are a woman, a miserable woman, stupid and brutified. You
are afraid, are you? Well, if you do not go this very instant, I will have
you arrested by the queen`s orders, and I will have you placed in that
Bastille which you dread so much."
Bonacieux fell into a profound reflection; he turned the two angers in
his brain, that of the cardinal and that of the queen; that of the cardinal
predominated enormously.
"Have me arrested on the part of the queen," said he, "and I, I will
appeal to his eminence."
At once, Madame Bonacieux saw that she had gone too far, and she was
terrified at having communicated so much. She for a moment contemplated,
with terror, that stupid countenance, impressed with the invincible
resolution of a fool that is overcome by fear.
"Well, be it so!" said she. "Perhaps, when all is considered, you are
right: in the long run, a man knows more about politics than a woman does,
particularly such as, like you, Monsieur Bonacieux, have conversed with the
cardinal. And yet it is very hard," added she, "that a man upon whose
affection I thought I might depend, treats me thus unkindly, and will not
comply with any of my fancies."
"That is because your fancies might lead you too far," replied the
triumphant Bonacieux, "and I mistrust them."
"Well, I will give it up, then," said the young woman, sighing; "it is
as well as it is, say no more about it."
"Yes, at least you should tell me what I should have to do in London,"
replied Bonacieux, who remembered a little too late that Rochefort had
desired him to endeavor to obtain his wife`s secrets.
"It is of no use for you to know anything about it," said the young
woman whom an instinctive mistrust now impelled to draw back: "it was about
one of those purchases that interest women, a purchase by which much might
have been gained."
But the more the young woman excused herself, the more important
Bonacieux conceived the secret to be which she declined to communicate to
him. He resolved, then, that instant to hasten to the residence of the Count
de Rochefort and tell him that the queen was seeking for a messenger to send
to London.
"Pardon me for leaving you, my dear Madame Bonacieux," said he; "but not
knowing you would come to see me, I had made an engagement with a friend; I
shall soon return, and if you will wait only a few minutes for me, as soon
as I have concluded my business with that friend, as it is growing late, I
will come and conduct you back to the Louvre."
"Thank you, monsieur, you are not obliging enough to be of any use to
me whatever," replied Madame Bonacieux; "I shall return very safely to the
Louvre by myself."
"As you please, Madame Bonacieux," said the ex-mercer, "shall I have the
pleasure of seeing you soon again?"
"Yes, next week, "I hope my duties will afford me a little liberty, and
I will take advantage of it to come and put things in order here, as they
must, necessarily, be much deranged."
"Very well; I shall expect you. You are not angry with me?"
"Who, I? Oh! not the least in the world."
"Till then, then?"
"Till then, adieu!"
Bonacieux kissed his wife`s hand and set off at a quick pace.
"Well!" said Madame Bonacieux when her husband had shut the street door,
and she found herself alone, "there wanted nothing to complete that poor
creature but being a cardinalist! And I, who have answered for him to the
queen! I, who have promised my poor mistress! Ah! my God! my God! she
will take me for one of those wretches with whom the palace swarms, and which
are placed about her as spies! Ah! Monsieur Bonacieux! I never did love
you much, but now, it is worse than ever: I hate you! and by my word, you
shall pay for this!"
At the moment she spoke these words a rap on the ceiling made her raise
her head, and a voice which reached her through the plaster, cried:
"Dear Madame Bonacieux, open the little passage-door for me, and I will
come down to you."
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