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Chapter XLIV
Chapter XLIV
The Utility Of Stove-Pipes
It was evident that without suspecting it, and actuated solely by their
chivalric and adventurous character, our three friends had just rendered a
service to some one the cardinal honored with his particular protection.
Now, who could that some one be? That was the question the three
musketeers put to each other; then, seeing that none of the replies could
throw any light on the subject, Porthos called the host, and asked for dice.
Porthos and Aramis placed themselves at the table and began to play.
Athos walked about, in a contemplative mood.
While thinking and walking, Athos passed and repassed before the pipe
of the stove, broken in half, the other extremity of which passed into the
upper chamber; and every time he passed, he heard a murmur of words, which
at length fixed his attention. Athos went close to it, and distinguished
some words that appeared to merit so great an interest that he made a sign
to his friends to be silent, remaining himself bent with his ear directed to
the opening of the lower orifice.
"Listen, milady," said the cardinal, "the affair is important; sit down,
and let us talk it over."
"Milady!" murmured Athos.
"I am listening to your eminence with the greatest attention," replied
a female voice that made the musketeer start.
"A small vessel with an English crew, whose captain is mine, awaits you
at the mouth of the Charente, at Fort de la Pointe; he will set sail
to-morrow morning."
"I must go thither to-night, then?"
"Instantly! that is to say, when you have received my instructions.
Two men, whom you will find at the door, on going out, will serve you as
escort; you will allow me to leave first, and, half an hour after, you can
go away in your turn."
"Yes, monseigneur. Now let us return to the mission with which you wish
to charge me, and as I desire to continue to merit the confidence of your
eminence, deign to expose it to me in clear and precise terms, so that I may
not commit any error."
There was an instant of profound silence between the two interlocutors;
it was evident the cardinal was weighing beforehand the terms in which he was
about to speak, and that milady was collecting all her faculties to
comprehend the things he was about to say, and to engrave them in her memory
when they should be spoken.
Athos took advantage of this moment to tell his two companions to fasten
the door on the inside, and to make them a sign to come and listen with him.
The two musketeers, who loved their ease, brought a chair for each of
themselves and one for Athos. All three then sat down with their heads
together, and their ears on the watch.
"You will go to London," continued the cardinal; "when arrived in London
you will seek Buckingham."
"I must beg your eminence to observe," said milady, "that since the
affair of the diamond studs, about which the duke always suspected me, his
grace has been very mistrustful of me."
"Well, this time," said the cardinal, "it is not the question to steal
his confidence, but to present yourself frankly and loyally as a negotiator."
"Frankly and loyally," repeated milady, with an unspeakable expression
of duplicity.
"Yes, frankly and loyally," replied the cardinal, in the same tone; "all
this negotiation must be carried on openly."
"I will follow your eminence`s instruction to the letter; I only wait
your giving them."
"You will go to Buckingham on my part, and you will tell him I am
acquainted will all the preparations he has made, but that they give me no
uneasiness, since, at the first step he takes, I will ruin the queen."
"Will he believe that your eminence is in a position to accomplish the
threat you make him?"
"Yes, for I have the proofs."
"I must be able to present these proofs to his appreciation."
"Without doubt; and you will tell him I will publish the account of
Bois-Robert and of the Marquis de Beautru, upon the interview which the duke
had at the residence of Madame la Connetable with the queen, on the evening
Madame la Connetable gave a masked fete; you will tell him, in order that he
may not doubt of anything, that he came there in the costume of the Great
Mogul, which the Chevalier de Guise was to have worn, and that he purchased
this exchange for the sum of three thousand pistoles."
"Very well, monseigneur."
"All the details of his coming into and going out of the palace on the
night when he introduced himself in the character of an Italian
fortune-teller, you will tell him in order that he may not doubt the
correctness of my information: that he had under his cloak a large white
robe, sown over with black tears, death`s heads, and crossbones; for in case
of a surprise, he was to pass for the Phantom of the White Lady, who, as all
the world knows, appears at the Louvre every time any great event is about
to be accomplished."
"Is that all, monseigneur?"
"Tell him also that I am acquainted with all the details of the
adventure at Amiens, that I will have a little romance made of it, wittily
turned, with a plan of the garden, and portraits of the principal actors in
that nocturnal romance."
"I will tell him that."
"Tell him, further, Montague is in my power, that Montague is in the
Bastille; no letters were found upon him, it is true, but that nature may
make him say much of what he knows, and even - what he does not know."
"Exactly."
"Then add, that his grace has, in his precipitation to quit the Isle of
Re, forgotten and left behind him in his lodging a certain letter from Madame
de Chevreuse, which singularly compromises the queen, inasmuch as it proves
not only that her majesty can love the enemies of France, but that she can
conspire with the enemies of France. You recollect perfectly all I have
told you, do you not?"
"Your eminence will judge: the ball of Madame la Connetable; the night
at the Louvre; the evening at Amiens; the arrest of Montague; the letter of
Madame de Chevreuse."
"That`s it," said the cardinal - "that`s it; you have an excellent
memory, milady."
"But," resumed the lady, to whom the cardinal had addressed this
flattering compliment, "if, in spite of all these reasons, the duke does not
give way, and continues to menace France?"
"The duke is in love to madness, or rather to folly," replied Richelieu,
with great bitterness; "like the ancient paladins, he has only undertaken
this war to obtain a look from his lady-love. If he becomes certain that
this war will cost the honor, and perhaps the liberty of the lady of his
thoughts, as he says, I will answer for it he will look at it twice."
"And yet," said milady, with a persistance that proved she wished to see
clearly to the end of the mission with which she was about to be charged,
"and yet, if he persists?"
"If he persists?" said the cardinal; "that is not probable."
"It is possible," said milady.
"If he persists - " His eminence made a pause, and resumed: "If he
persists - well, then I shall hope for one of those events which change the
destinies of states."
"If your eminence would quote to me some one of these events in
history," said milady, "perhaps I should partake of your confidence in the
future."
"Well, here, then, for example," said Richelieu. "When in 1610, for a
cause almost similar to that which moves the duke, the King Henry IV., of
glorious memory, was about, at the same time, to invade Flanders and Italy
to attack Austria on both sides - well, did there not happen an event which
saved Austria? Why should not the King of France have the same chance as the
emperor?"
"Your eminence means, I presume, the knife-stab of the Rue de la
Feronnerie?"
"Exactly so," said the cardinal.
"Does not your eminence fear that the punishment inflicted upon
Ravaillac may deter any one who might entertain the idea of imitating him?"
"There will be, in all times and in all countries, particularly if
religious divisions exist in those countries, fanatics who ask nothing better
than to become martyrs. Ay, and observe, it just recurs to me that the
Puritans are furious against Buckingham, and their preachers designate him
as the Anti-Christ."
"Well?" said milady.
"Well," continued the cardinal, in an indifferent tone, "the only thing
to be sought for, at this moment, is some woman, handsome, young and clever,
who has cause of quarrel with the duke. The duke has had many affairs of
gallantry, and if he has succeeded in many amours by his promises of eternal
constancy, he must likewise have sown the seeds of many hatreds by his
eternal infidelities."
"No doubt," said milady coolly, "such a woman may be found."
"Well, such a woman, who would place the knife of Jacques Clement, or
of Ravaillac, in the hands of a fanatic, would save France."
"Yes, but she would be the accomplice of an assassination."
"Were the accomplices of Ravaillac, or of Jacques Clement, ever known?"
"No, for perhaps they were too high for any one to dare to look for them
where they were; the Palais de Justice would not be burned down for
everybody, monseigneur."
"You think, then, that the fire at the Palais de Justice was not caused
by chance?" asked Richelieu, in the tone with which he would have put a
question of no importance.
"I, monseigneur?" replied milady; "I think nothing - I quote a fact,
that is all; only I say that if I were named Mademoiselle de Montpensier, or
the Queen Mary de Medici, I should take less precautions than I take, being
simply called Lady Clarik."
"That is but just," said Richelieu; "what do you require, then?"
"I require an order which would ratify beforehand all that I should
think proper to do for the greatest good of France."
"But, in the first place, this woman I have described must be found, who
is desirous of avenging herself upon the duke."
"She is found," said milady.
"Then the miserable fanatic must be found who will serve as an
instrument of God`s justice."
"He will be found."
"Well," said the cardinal, "then it will be time to claim the order
which you just now required."
"Your eminence is right," replied milady; "and I have been wrong in
seeing in the mission with which you honor me, anything but that which it
really is - that is to say, to announce to his grace, on the part of your
eminence, that you are acquainted with the different disguises by the means
of which he succeeded in approaching the queen during the fete given by
Madame la Connetable; that you have proofs of the interview granted at the
Louvre by the queen to a certain Italian astrologer, who was no other than
the Duke of Buckingham; that you have ordered a little romance of a satirical
nature to be written upon the adventures of Amiens, with a plan of the
gardens in which those adventures took place, and portraits of the actors who
figured in them; that Montague is in the Bastille, and that the torture may
make him say things he remembers, and even things he has forgotten; that you
possess a certain letter from Madame de Chevreuse, found in his grace`s
lodging, which singularly compromises not only her who wrote it, but her in
whose name it was written. Then, if he persists, notwithstanding all this,
as that is, as I have said, the limit of my mission, I shall have nothing to
do but to pray God to work a miracle for the salvation of France. That is
it, is it not, monseigneur, and I shall have nothing else to do?"
"That is it," replied the cardinal dryly.
"And now," said milady, without appearing to remark the change of the
duke`s tone toward her, "now that I have received the instructions of your
eminence as concerns your enemies, monseigneur will permit me to say a few
words to him of mine?"
"Have you enemies, then?" asked Richelieu.
"Yes, monseigneur, enemies against whom you owe me all your support, for
I made them by serving your eminence."
"Who are they?" replied the duke.
"In the first place, there is a little intriguing woman, named
Bonacieux."
"She is in the prison of Nantes."
"That is to say, she was there," replied milady; "but the queen has
obtained an order from the king, by means of which she has been conveyed to
a convent."
"To a convent?" said the duke.
"Yes, to a convent."
"And what convent?"
"I don`t know: the secret has been well kept."
"But I will know!"
"And your eminence will tell me in what convent that woman is?"
"I see nothing inconvenient in that," said the cardinal.
"Well, now I have an enemy much more to be dreaded by me than this
little Madame Bonacieux."
"Who is that?"
"Her lover."
"What is his name?"
"Oh, your eminence knows him well," cried milady, carried away by her
anger. "He is the evil genius of both of us: it is he who, in a rencounter
with your eminence`s guards, decided the victory in favor of the king`s
musketeers; it is he who gave three desperate wounds to De Wardes, your
emissary, and who caused the affair of the diamond studs to fail; it is he
who, knowing it was I who had Madame Bonacieux carried off, has sworn my
death."
"Ah, ah!" said the cardinal. "I know whom you mean."
"I mean that wretch D`Artagnan."
"He is a bold fellow," said the cardinal.
"And it is because he is a bold fellow that he is the more to be
feared."
"I must have," said the duke, "a proof of his connection with
Buckingham."
"A proof!" cried milady; "I will find you ten."
"Well, then, it becomes the simplest thing in the world; get me that
proof, and I will send him to the Bastille."
"So far good, monseigneur; but afterward?"
"When once in the Bastille there is no afterward!" said the cardinal,
in a low voice. "Ah, pardieu!" continued he, "if it were as easy for me to
get rid of my enemy as it is easy to get rid of yours, and if it were against
such people you required impunity!"
"Monseigneur," replied milady, "a fair exchange - existence for
existence, man for man; give me one, I will give you the other."
"I don`t know what you mean, nor do I even desire to know what you
mean," replied the cardinal; "but I wish to please you, and see nothing
inconvenient in giving you what you ask for with respect to so mean a
creature; the more so as you tell me this paltry D`Artagnan is a libertine,
a duelist, and a traitor."
"An infamous scoundrel, monseigneur, an infamous scoundrel!"
"Give me paper, a pen, and some ink, then," said the cardinal.
"Here they are, monseigneur."
There was a moment of silence, which proved that the cardinal was
employed in seeking the terms in which he should write the note, or else in
writing it. Athos, who had not lost a word of the conversation, took his two
companions by the hand, and led them to the other end of the room.
"Well," said Porthos, "what do you want, and why do you not let us
listen to the end of the conversation?"
"Hush!" said Athos, speaking in a low voice; "we have heard all it was
necessary we should hear; besides, I don`t prevent you from listening, but
I must be gone."
"You must be gone!" said Porthos; "and if the cardinal asks for you,
what answer can we make?"
"You will not wait till he asks; you will speak first, and tell him that
I am gone on the lookout, because certain expressions of our host`s have
given me reason to think the road is not safe; I will say two words about it
to the cardinal`s attendant likewise; the rest concerns myself, don`t be
uneasy about that."
"Be prudent, Athos," said Aramis.
"Be easy on that head," replied Athos, "you know I am cool enough."
Porthos and Aramis resumed their places by the stove-pipe.
As to Athos, he went out without any mystery, took his horse, which was
tied with those of his friends to the fastenings of the shutters, in four
words convinced the attendant of the necessity of a vanguard for their
return, carefully examined the priming of his pistols, drew his sword, and
took, like a forlorn hope, the road to the camp.
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