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Chapter LXVII
Chapter LXVII
Conclusion
On the sixth of the following month, the king, in compliance with the
promise he had made the cardinal to return to La Rochelle, left his capital
still in amazement at the news which began to spread of Buckingham`s
assassination.
Although warned that the man she had loved so much was in great danger,
the queen, when his death was announced to her, would not believe the fact,
and even imprudently exclaimed:
"It is false: he has just written to me!"
But the next day she was obliged to receive this fatal intelligence as
truth; Laporte, detained in England, as every one else had been, by the
orders of Charles I., arrived, and was the bearer of the duke`s last dying
present to the queen.
The joy of the king was great, he did not even give himself the trouble
to dissemble it, and displayed it with affectation before the queen. Louis
XIII., like all weak minds, was miserably wanting in generosity.
But the king soon again became dull and indisposed; his brow was not one
of those that are clear for long together; he felt that by returning to his
camp, he was about to resume his state of slavery; nevertheless, he did
return.
The cardinal was for him the fascinating serpent, and he was the bird
which flies from branch to branch, without being able to escape.
The return to La Rochelle, therefore, was profoundly dull. Our four
friends, in particular, astonished their comrades; they traveled together,
side by side, with spiritless eyes and heads depressed. Athos alone, from
time to time, raised his expansive brow; a flash kindled in his eyes, and a
bitter smile passed over his lips; then, like his comrades, he sank again
into his reveries.
As soon as the escort arrived in any city, when they had conducted the
king to his quarters, the four friends either retired to their own, or to
some secluded cabaret, where they neither drank nor played; they only
conversed in a low voice, looking around attentively that no one overheared
them.
One day, when the king had halted to fly the pie, and the four friends,
according to their custom, instead of following the sport, had stopped at a
cabaret on the highroad, a man, coming from La Rochelle on horseback, pulled
up at the door to drink a glass of wine, and darted a searching glance into
the chamber in which the four musketeers were sitting.
"Hilloa! Monsieur d`Artagnan!" said he, "is not that you I see yonder?"
D`Artagnan raised his head and uttered a cry of joy. It was the man he
called his phantom, it was his unknown of Meung, of the Rue des Fossoyeurs,
and of Arras.
D`Artagnan drew his sword, and sprang toward the door.
But this time, instead of avoiding him, the unknown jumped from his
horse, and advanced to meet D`Artagnan.
"Ah! monsieur!" said the young man, "I have met with you, then, at
last! this time, I will answer for it, you shall not escape me!"
"Neither is it my intention, monsieur, for this time I was seeking you;
in the name of the king, I arrest you."
"How! what do you say?" cried D`Artagnan.
"I say that you must surrender your sword to me, monsieur, and that
without resistance; the safety of your head depends upon your compliance."
"Who are you, then?" demanded D`Artagnan, lowering the point of his
sword, but without yet surrendering it.
"I am the Chevalier de Rochefort," answered the other, "the equerry of
Monsieur the Cardinal de Richelieu, and I have orders to conduct you to his
eminence."
"We are returning to his eminence, Monsieur de Chevalier," said Athos,
advancing; "and you will please to accept the word of M. d`Artagnan, that he
will go straight to La Rochelle."
"I must place him in the hands of guards who will take him to the camp."
"We will be his guards, monsieur, upon our words, as gentlemen; but,
upon our words as gentlemen, likewise," added Athos, knitting his brow, "M.
d`Artagnan shall not leave us."
The Chevalier de Rochefort cast a glance backward, and saw that Porthos
and Aramis had placed themselves between him and the gate; he therefore was
convinced that he was completely at the mercy of these four men.
"Gentlemen," said he, "if M. d`Artagnan will surrender his sword to me,
and join his word to yours, I will be satisfied with your promise to convey
M. d`Artagnan to the quarters of Monseigneur the Cardinal."
"You have my word, monsieur, and here is my sword."
"This suits me better," said Rochefort, "as I wish to continue my
journey."
"If it is for the purpose of rejoining milady," said Athos coolly, "it
is useless; you will not find her."
"What is become of her then?" asked Rochefort eagerly.
"Come back with us to the camp and you shall know."
Rochefort remained for a moment undecided, then, as they were only a
day`s journey from Surgeres, to which place the cardinal was to come to meet
the king, he resolved to follow Athos` advice and go with them. Besides,
this return presented him the advantage of watching over his prisoner.
They resumed their route.
On the morrow, at three o`clock in the afternoon, they arrived at
Surgeres. The cardinal there awaited Louis XIII. The minister and the king
exchanged numerous caresses, felicitating each other upon the fortunate
chance which had freed France from the inveterate enemy who set on all Europe
against her. After which, the cardinal, who had been informed that
D`Artagnan was arrested, and who was anxious to see him, took leave of the
king, inviting him to come the next day to view the labors of the dyke, which
were completed.
On returning in the evening to his quarters at the bridge of La Pierre,
the cardinal found D`Artagnan, without his sword, and the three musketeers
armed, standing before the door of the house.
This time, as he was well attended, he looked at them sternly, and made
a sign with his eye and hand for D`Artagnan to follow him.
D`Artagnan obeyed.
"We shall wait for you, D`Artagnan," said Athos, loud enough for the
cardinal to hear him.
His eminence bent his brow, stopped for an instant, and then kept on his
way, without uttering a single word.
D`Artagnan entered after the cardinal, and behind D`Artagnan the door
was guarded.
His eminence went to the chamber which served him as a closet, and made
a sign to Rochefort to bring in the young musketeer.
Rochefort obeyed and retired.
D`Artagnan remained alone in front of the cardinal; this was his second
interview with Richelieu, and he afterward confessed that he felt well
assured it would be his last.
Richelieu remained standing, leaning against the mantelpiece; a table
was between him and D`Artagnan.
"Monsieur," said the cardinal, "you have been arrested by my orders."
"So I have been informed, monseigneur."
"Do you know why?"
"No, monseigneur, for the only thing for which I could be arrested is
still unknown to your eminence."
Richelieu looked steadfastly at the young man.
"Indeed!" said he, "what does that mean?"
"If monseigneur will have the goodness to tell me, in the first place,
what crimes are imputed to me, I will then tell your eminence what I have
really done."
"Crimes are imputed to you that have brought down much more lofty heads
than yours, monsieur," said the cardinal.
"What are they, monseigneur?" said D`Artagnan, with a calmness that
astonished the cardinal himself.
"You are charged with having corresponded with the enemies of the
kingdom; you are charged with having surprised state secrets; you are charged
with having endeavored to thwart the plans of your general."
"And who charges me with this, monseigneur?" said D`Artagnan, who had
no doubt the accusation came from milady - "a woman branded by the justice
of the country - a woman who has espoused one man in France and another in
England - a woman who poisoned her second husband, and who attempted both to
poison and assassinate me!"
"What is all this, monsieur?" cried the cardinal, astonished; "and what
woman are you speaking of thus?"
"Of Milady de Winter," replied D`Artagnan - "yes, of Milady de Winter,
of whose crimes your eminence is doubtless ignorant, because you have honored
her with your confidence."
"Monsieur," said the cardinal, "if Milady de Winter has committed the
crimes you lay to her charge, she shall be punished."
"She is punished, monseigneur."
"And who has punished her?"
"We have."
"Is she in prison?"
"She is dead."
"Dead!" repeated the cardinal, who could not believe what he heard;
"dead! Did you say she was dead?"
"Three times she attempted to kill me, and I pardoned her; but she
murdered the woman I loved. Then my friends and I took her, tried her, and
condemned her."
D`Artagnan then related the poisoning of Madame Bonacieux in the convent
of the Carmelites of Bethune, the trial in the solitary house, and the
execution on the banks of the Lys.
A shudder crept through the body of the cardinal, who, it may be
observed, was not easily made to shudder.
But all at once, as if undergoing the influence of a secret thought, the
countenance of the cardinal, till that moment gloomy, cleared up by degrees,
and recovered perfect serenity.
"So," said the cardinal, in a tone that contrasted strongly with the
severity of his words, "you have constituted yourselves judges, without
remembering that they who punish without license to punish, are assassins?"
"Monseigneur, I swear to you that I never for an instant had the
intention of defending my head against you; I willingly will submit to any
punishment your eminence may please to inflict upon me; I do not hold life
dear enough to be afraid of death."
"Yes, I know you are a man of a stout heart, monsieur," said the
cardinal, in an almost kind tone; "I can therefore tell you beforehand you
shall be tried, and even condemned."
"Another might reply that he had his pardon in his pocket. I will
content myself with saying, Issue your orders, monseigneur; I am ready."
"Your pardon?" said Richelieu, surprised.
"Yes, monseigneur," said D`Artagnan.
"And signed by whom - by the king?"
And the cardinal pronounced these words with a singular expression of
contempt.
"No; by your eminence."
"By me? You must be mad, monsieur!"
"Monseigneur will doubtless recognize his own writing."
And D`Artagnan presented to the cardinal the precious piece of paper
which Athos had forced from milady, and which he had given to D`Artagnan, to
serve him as a safeguard.
His eminence took the paper, and read in a slow voice, dwelling upon
every syllable:
"It is by my orders that the bearer of this paper has done what he has
just done.
"At the camp of Rochelle, this fifth of August, 1628.
"Richelieu."
The cardinal, after having read these two line, sank into a profound
reverie; but he did not return the paper to D`Artagnan.
"He is meditating what sort of punishment he shall put me to death by,"
said D`Artagnan to himself. "Let him; ma foi! he shall see how a gentleman
can die!"
The young musketeer was then in an excellent disposition to suffer
heroically.
Richelieu still continued thinking, twisting and untwisting the paper
in his hands.
At length he raised his head, fixed his eagle look upon that loyal,
open, and intelligent countenance, read upon that face, furrowed with tears,
all the sufferings he had endured in the course of the last month, and
reflected for the third or fourth time how much that youth of twenty-one
years of age had before him, and what resources his activity, his courage,
and his shrewd understanding might offer to a good master.
In another respect the crimes, the strength of mind, and the infernal
genius of milady had more than once terrified him; he felt something like a
secret joy at having got rid of this dangerous accomplice.
He slowly tore the paper which D`Artagnan had generously placed in his
hand.
"I am lost!" said D`Artagnan to himself.
And he bowed profoundly before the cardinal, like a man who says, "Lord,
thy will be done!"
The cardinal went up to the table, and, without sitting down, wrote a
few lines upon a parchment of which two-thirds were already filled up, and
affixed his seal to it.
"That is my condemnation," thought D`Artagnan; "he will spare me the
ennui of the Bastille, or the tediousness of a trial. That`s very kind of
him."
"Here, monsieur," said the cardinal to the young man, "I have taken from
you one signed blank to give you another. The name is wanting in this
commission; you can write it yourself."
D`Artagnan took the paper hesitatingly, and cast his eyes over it; it
was a lieutenant`s commission in the musketeers.
D`Artagnan fell at the feet of the cardinal.
"Monseigneur," said he, "my life is yours - henceforward dispose of it.
But this favor which you bestow upon me I do not merit; I have three friends
who are more meritorious and more worthy - "
"You are a brave youth, D`Artagnan," interrupted the cardinal, tapping
him familiarly on the shoulder, charmed at having subdued this rebellious
nature. "Do with this commission what you will; only remember that, though
the name be a blank, it was to you that I gave it."
"I shall never forget it," replied D`Artagnan; "your eminence may be
certain of that."
The cardinal turned round, and said in a loud voice:
"Rochefort!"
The chevalier, who no doubt was near the door, entered immediately.
"Rochefort," said the cardinal, "you see M. d`Artagnan - I receive him
among the number of my friends; embrace, then, and be prudent, if you have
any wish to preserve your heads."
Rochefort and D`Artagnan saluted coolly; but the cardinal was there
observing them with his vigilant eye.
They left the chamber at the same time.
"We shall meet again, shall we not, monsieur?"
"When you please," said D`Artagnan.
"An opportunity will offer itself," replied Rochefort.
"What`s that?" said the cardinal, opening the door.
The two men smiled at each other, shook hands, and bowed to his
eminence.
"We were beginning to grow impatient," said Athos.
"Well, here I am, my friends," replied D`Artagnan, "not only free, but
in favor."
"Tell us all about it."
"This evening."
Accordingly, that same evening D`Artagnan repaired to the quarters of
Athos, whom he found in a fair way of emptying a bottle of Spanish wine, an
occupation which he religiously went through every night.
He related all that had taken place between the cardinal and himself,
and, drawing the commission from his pocket.
"Here, my dear Athos," said he, this belongs to you naturally."
Athos smiled with one of his sweet and expressive smiles.
"My friend," said he, "for Athos this is too much, for the Count de la
Fere, it is too little; keep the commission - it is yours; alas! you have
purchased it dearly enough."
D`Artagnan left Athos` chamber, and went to that of Porthos.
He found him clothed in a magnificent dress covered with splendid
embroidery, admiring himself before a glass.
"Ah, ah! is that you, friend D`Artagnan?" exclaimed he; "how do you
think these garments fit me, eh?"
"Wonderfully well," said D`Artagnan; "but I am come to offer you a dress
which will become you still better."
"What`s that?" asked Porthos.
"That`s a lieutenant of musketeers."
D`Artagnan related to Porthos the substance of his interview with the
cardinal, and, taking the commission from his pocket:
"Here, my friend," said he, "write your name upon it, and become my
officer."
Porthos cast his eyes over the commission, and returned it to
D`Artagnan, to the great astonishment of the young man.
"Yes," said he, "yes, that would flatter me very much, but I should not
have time enough to enjoy the distinction. During our expedition to Bethune
the husband of my duchess died, so that, my dear friend, the coffer of the
defunct holding out its arms to me, I shall marry the widow; look here, I at
this moment was trying on the wedding suit. No, keep the lieutenancy, my
dear fellow, keep it."
And he returned the commission to D`Artagnan.
The young man then entered the apartment of Aramis.
He found him kneeling before a prie-Dieu, with his head leaning upon an
open book of prayer.
He described to him his interview with the cardinal, and, for the third
time drawing the commission from his pocket:
"You, our friend, our intelligence, our invisible protector," said he,
"accept this commission; you have merited it more than any of us by your
wisdom and your counsels, always followed by such happy results."
"Alas! my dear friend," said Aramis, "our late adventures have
disgusted me with life and with the sword; this time my determination is
irrevocably taken: after the siege I shall enter the house of the Lazarists.
Keep the commission, D`Artagnan - the profession of arms suits you; you will
be a brave and adventurous captain."
D`Artagnan, his eye moist with gratitude, though beaming with joy, went
back to Athos, whom he found still at table, contemplating the charms of his
last glass of Malaga by the light of his lamp.
"Well," said he, "and they likewise have refused me!"
"That, my dear friend, is because nobody is more worthy than yourself."
And he took a pen, wrote the name of D`Artagnan on the commission, and
returned it to him.
"I shall then no longer have friends," said the young man, "alas!
nothing but bitter recollections."
And he let his head sink upon his hands, while two large tears rolled
down his cheeks.
"You are young," replied Athos, "and your bitter recollections have time
to be changed into sweet remembrances."
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