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Chapter LX
Chapter LX
In France
The first fear of the King of England, Charles I., on learning the death
of the duke, was that such terrible news might discourage the Rochellais; he
endeavored, says Richeleiu in his memories, to conceal it from them as long
as possible, closing all the ports of his kingdom, and carefully keeping
watch that no vessel should go out until the army which Buckingham was
getting together had set sail, taking upon himself, in default of Buckingham,
to superintend its departure.
He carried the strictness of this order so far as to detain in England
the ambassadors of Denmark, who had taken leave, and the ordinary ambassador
of Holland, who was to take back to the port of Flushing the Indian
merchantmen of which Charles I. had made restitution to the United
Provinces.
But as he did not think of giving this order till five hours after the
event, that is to say, till two o`clock in the afternoon, two vessels had
already left the port: the one bearing, as we know, milady, who already
anticipating the event, was further confirmed in that belief by seeing the
black flag flying at the mast head of the admiral`s ship.
As to the second vessel, we will tell hereafter whom it carried, and how
it set sail.
During all this time, nothing fresh occurred in the camp at La Rochelle;
only the king, who grew weary everywhere, but perhaps a little more so in the
camp than in any other place, resolved to go incognito and spend the festival
of St. Louis at St. Germain`s, and asked the cardinal to order him an escort
of twenty musketeers only. The cardinal who sometimes became weary of the
king, granted this leave of absence with great pleasure to his royal
lieutenant, who promised to return about the 15th of September.
M. de Treville, upon being informed by his eminence, made up his
portmanteau, and as, without knowing the cause, he knew the great desire and
even imperative want that his friends had to return to Paris, he fixed upon
them, of course, to form part of the escort.
The four young men heard the news a quarter of an hour after M. de
Treville, for they were the first to whom he communicated it. It was then
that D`Artagnan appreciated the favor the cardinal had conferred upon him by
making him at last pass into the musketeers, for without that circumstance
he would have been forced to remain in the camp, while his companions left
it.
It must be admitted that this impatience to return toward Paris had for
cause the danger which Madame Bonacieux would run of meeting at the convent
of Bethune with milady, her mortal enemy. Aramis, therefore had written
immediately to Marie Michon, the seamstress at Tours, who had such fine
acquaintances, to obtain from the queen authority for Madame Bonacieux to
leave the convent, and to retire either into Lorraine or Belgium. They had
not long to wait for an answer; a week after, Aramis received the following
letter:
"My Dear Cousin: With this you will receive the order from my sister to
withdraw our little servant from the convent of Bethune, the air of which you
think does not agree with her. My sister sends you this order with great
pleasure, for she is very partial to the little girl, and to whom she intends
to be more serviceable hereafter.
"I salute you,
"Marie Michon."
In this letter was inclosed an order conceived in these terms:
"The superior of the convent of Bethune will place in the hands of the
person who shall present this note to her, the novice who entered the convent
upon my recommendation, and under my patronage. Anne.
"At the Louvre, August 10, 1628."
It may be easily imagined how the relationship between Aramis and a
seamstress who called the queen her sister amused the young men; but Aramis,
after having blushed up to the eyes at the gross jokes of Porthos, begged his
friends not to revert to the subject again, declaring that if another single
word were said to him about it, he would never again implore his cousin to
interfere in such affairs.
There was no further question, therefore, of Marie Michon among the four
musketeers, who, besides, had what they wanted: that was, the order to
withdraw Madame Bonacieux from the convent of the Carmelites of Bethune. It
was true that this order would not be of great use to them while they were
in camp at La Rochelle, that is to say, at the other end of France;
therefore, D`Artagnan was going to ask leave of absence of M. de Treville,
confiding to him candidly the importance of his departure, when the news was
transmitted to him, as well as to his three friends, that the king was about
to set out for Paris with an escort of twenty musketeers and that they formed
part of the escort.
Their joy was great. The lackeys were sent on before with the baggage,
and they set out on the morning of the 16th.
The cardinal accompanied his majesty from Surgeres to Mauze, and there
the king and his minister took leave of each other with great demonstrations
of friendship.
The king, however, who sought amusement, while traveling as fast as
possible, for he was anxious to be in Paris by the 23d, stopped from time to
time to fly the pie, a pastime for which the taste had been formerly
communicated to him by De Luynes, and for which he had always preserved a
great predilection. Out of the twenty musketeers, sixteen, when the thing
happened, rejoiced greatly at this relaxation, but the other four cursed it
heartily. D`Artagnan in particular had a perpetual buzzing in his ears,
which Porthos explained thus:
"A very great lady told me that that means somebody is talking of you
somewhere."
At length the escort passed through Paris on the 23d, in the night; the
king thanked M. de Treville, and permitted him to distribute leaves of
absence for four days, upon condition that the favored parties should not
appear in any public place, under penalty of the Bastille.
The four first leaves granted, as may be imagined, were to our four
friends. Still further, Athos obtained of M. de Treville six days instead
of four, and introduced into these six days two more nights, for they set out
on the 24th, at five o`clock in the evening, and, as a further kindness, M.
de Treville post-dated the leave to the twenty-fifth in the morning.
"Good Lord!" said D`Artagnan, who, as we have often said, never doubted
of anything - "it appears to me that we are making a great trouble of a very
simple thing: in two days, and by knocking up two or three horses (which I
care little about, as I have plenty of money), I am at Bethune, I present my
letter from the queen to the superior, and I bring back the dear treasure I
go to seek, not into Lorraine, not into Belgium, but to Paris; where she will
be much better concealed, particularly while the cardinal is at La Rochelle.
Well, once returned from the campaign, half by the protection of her cousin,
half in favor of what we have personally done for her, we shall obtain from
the queen what we desire. Remain, then, where you are, and do not exhaust
yourselves with useless fatigue: myself and Planchet, that is all that such
a simple expedition as this requires."
To this Athos replied quietly:
"We, also, have money left; for I have not yet drunk all my share of the
diamond, and Porthos and Aramis have not eaten theirs. We are, therefore,
in a condition to knock up four horses as well as one. But consider,
D`Artagnan," added he, in a tone so solemn that it made the young man
shudder, "consider that Bethune is a city at which the cardinal has appointed
to meet a woman, who, wherever she goes, brings misery with her. If you had
only to deal with four men, D`Artagnan, I would allow you to go alone; you
have to do with that woman - we will go, and I hope to God that, with our
four lackeys, we may be in sufficient number."
"You terrify me, Athos!" cried D`Artagnan; "my God! what do you fear?"
"Everything!" replied Athos.
D`Artagnan examined the countenances of his companions, which, like that
of Athos, wore an impression of deep anxiety, and they continued their route
as fast as their horses could carry them, but without adding another word.
On the evening of the 25th, as they were entering Arras, and as
D`Artagnan was dismounting at the auberge of the Herse d`Or to drink a glass
of wine, a horseman came out of the posting-yard, where he had just had a
relay, starting off at a gallop, and with a fresh horse, and taking the road
to Paris. At the moment he was passing through the gateway into the street,
the wind blew open the cloak in which he was enveloped, although it was the
month of August, and lifted his hat, which the traveler seized with his hand
at the moment it had left his head, and pulled it down eagerly over his eyes.
D`Artagnan, who had his eyes fixed upon this man, became very pale, and
let his glass fall.
"What is the matter, monsieur?" said Planchet. "Oh, come, gentlemen,
gentlemen! my master is ill!"
The three friends hastened toward D`Artagnan, but, instead of finding
him ill, met him running toward his horse. They stopped him at the door.
"Where the devil are you going to now, in this fashion?" cried Athos.
"It is he!" cried D`Artagnan, pale with passion, and with the sweat on
his brow, "it is he! let me overtake him!"
"He! but what he?" asked Athos.
"He - that man!"
"What man?"
"That cursed man, my evil genius, whom I have always met with when
threatened by some misfortune - he who accompanied the horrible woman when
I met her for the first time - he whom I was seeking when I offended our
Athos - he whom I saw on the very morning Madame Bonacieux was carried off!
I have seen him! that is he! I recognized him when his cloak blew open!"
"The devil!" said Athos, musingly.
"To horse, gentlemen! to horse! let us pursue him; we shall overtake
him!"
"My dear friend," said Aramis, "remember that it is in an opposite
direction to that in which we are going, that he has a fresh horse, and ours
are fatigued, so that we shall disable our own horses without a chance of
overtaking him. Let the man go, D`Artagnan; let us save the woman."
"Monsieur, monsieur!" cried the stableman, running out and looking after
the unknown - "monsieur here is a paper which dropped out of your hat!
monsieur!"
"Friend," said D`Artagnan, "a half-pistole for that paper!"
"Ma foi! monsieur, with great pleasure! here it is!"
The stableman, delighted with the good day`s work he had done, went into
the yard again; D`Artagnan unfolded the paper.
"Well?" eagerly demanded all his three friends.
"Nothing but one word!" said D`Artagnan.
"Yes," said Aramis, "but that one word is the name of some town or
village."
"Armentieres!" read Porthos; "Armentieres - I don`t know such a place."
"And that name of a town or village is written in her hand!" cried
Athos.
"Come on, then! on, then!" said D`Artagnan; "let us keep that paper
carefully - perhaps I have not thrown away my half-pistole. To horse, my
friends, to horse!"
And the four friends galloped off on the road to Bethune.
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