 Chapter 49 of the D'Artagnan Romances, Volume 3 Part 1 by Alexander Dumas, translated by William Robson. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. The first appearance of Colbert. The whole night was passed in anguish. Common to the dying man and to the king, the dying man expected his deliverance. The king awaited his liberty. Louis did not go to bed. An hour after leaving the chamber of the cardinal he learned that the dying man, recovering a little strength, had insisted upon being dressed, adorned and painted, and seeing the ambassadors. Like Augustus he no doubt considered the world a great stage and was desirous of playing out the last act of the comedy. Anne of Austria reappeared no more in the cardinal's apartments. She had nothing more to do there. Propriety was the pretext for her absence. On his part the cardinal did not ask for her. The advice the queen had given her son rankled in his heart. Towards midnight, while still painted, Maserian's mortal agony came on. He had revised his will, and as this will was the exact expression of his wishes, and as he feared that some interested influence might take advantage of his weakness to make him change something in it, he had given orders to Colbert, who walked up and down the corridor which led to the cardinal's bed-chamber, like the most vigilant of sentinels. The king, shut up in his own apartment, dispatched his nurse every hour to Maserian's chamber, with orders to bring him back the exact bulletin of the cardinal's state. After having heard that Maserian was dressed, painted, and had seen the ambassadors, Louis heard that the prayers for the dying were being read for the cardinal. At one o'clock in the morning, Gnod had administered the last remedy. This was a relic of the old customs of that fencing time, which was about to disappear to give place to another time, to believe that death could be kept off by some good secret thrust. Maserian, after having taken the remedy, respired freely for nearly ten minutes. He immediately gave orders that the news should be spread everywhere of a fortunate crisis. The king, on learning this, felt as if a cold sweat were passing over his brow. He had had a glimpse of the light of liberty. Slavery appeared to him more dark and less acceptable than ever. But the bulletin which followed entirely changed the face of things. Maserian could no longer breathe at all, and could scarcely follow the prayers which the curee of St. Nicola de Champs recited near him. The king resumed his agitated walk about his chamber, and consulted as he walked several papers drawn from a casket of which he alone had the key. A third time the nurse returned, Mr. de Maserian had just uttered a joke, and had ordered his flora by Titian to be re-varnished. At length, towards two o'clock in the morning, the king could no longer resist his weariness. He had not slept for twenty-four hours. Sleep, so powerful at his age, overcame him for about an hour. But he did not go to bed for that hour. He slept in a fortoya. About four o'clock his nurse awoke him by entering the room. Well, asked the king. Well, my dear Sire, said the nurse, clasping her hands with an air of commiseration. Well, he is dead. The king arose at a bound, as if a steel spring had been applied to his legs. Dead? cried he. Alas! Yes. Is it quite certain? Yes. Official? Yes. Has the news been made public? Not yet. Who told you, then, that the cardinal was dead? Mr. Colbert. Mr. Colbert? Yes. And was he sure of what he said? He came out of the chamber and held a glass for some minutes before the cardinal's lips. Huh! said the king. And what has become of Mr. Colbert? He has just left his eminence chamber. Where is he? He followed me. So, that he is Sire waiting at your door, till it shall be your good pleasure to receive him. Louis ran to the door, opened it himself, and perceived Colbert standing, waiting in the passage. The king started at the sight of this statue, all clothed in black. Colbert, bowing with profound respect, advanced two steps towards his majesty. Louis re-entered his chamber, making Colbert a sign to follow. Colbert entered. Louis dismissed the nurse, who closed the door as she went out. Colbert remained modestly standing near that door. What do you come to announce to me, monsieur? Said Louis very much troubled at being thus surprised in his private thoughts, which he could not completely conceal. That, monsieur, the cardinal has just expired, Sire, and that I bring your majesty his last adieu. The king remained pensive for a minute, and during that minute he looked attentively at Colbert. It was evident that the cardinal's last words were in his mind. Are you, then, monsieur Colbert? Asked he. Yes, Sire? His faithful servant, as his eminence himself told me. Yes, Sire? The depository of many of his secrets? All of them. The friends and servants of his eminence will be dear to me, monsieur, and I shall take care that you are well placed in my employment. Colbert bowed. You are a financier, monsieur, I believe? Yes, Sire. And did monsieur Le Cardinal employ you in his stewardship? I had that honor, Sire. But you never did anything personally for my household, I believe. Pardon me, Sire. It was I who had the honor of giving monsieur Le Cardinal the idea of an economy which puts three hundred thousand francs a year into your majesty's coffers. What economy was that, monsieur? asked Louis XIV. Sir Majesty knows that the hundred Swiss have silver lace on each side of their ribbons? Doubtless? Well, Sire, it was I who proposed that imitation silver lace should be placed upon these ribbons. It could not be detected, and a hundred thousand crowns served a field of regiment during six months, and is the price of ten thousand good muskets, or the value of a vessel of ten guns, ready for sea. That is true, said Louis XIV, considering more attentively. And, ma foie, that was a well-placed economy. Besides, it was ridiculous for soldiers to wear the same lace as noblemen. I am happy to be approved of by your majesty. Is that the only appointment you held about the Cardinal? asked the king. It was I who was appointed to examine the accounts of the superintendent, Sire. Ah! said Louis, who was about to dismiss Colbert, but whom that word stopped. Huh! It was you whom his eminence had charged to control, monsieur Fouquet, was it? And the result of the examination? Is that there is a deficit, Sire? But if your majesty will permit me. Speak, monsieur Colbert. I ought to give your majesty some explanations. Not at all, monsieur. It is you who have controlled these accounts. Give me the result. That is very easily done, Sire. Emptiness everywhere. Money nowhere. Beware, monsieur. You are roughly attacking the administration of monsieur Fouquet, who, nevertheless, I have heard say, is an able man. Colbert colored and then became pale, for he felt that from that minute he entered upon a struggle with a man whose power almost equaled the sway of him who had just died. Yes, Sire, a very able man. repeated Colbert, bowing. But if monsieur Fouquet is an able man, and in spite of that ability, if money be affecting, whose fault is it? I do not accuse, Sire. I verify. That is well. Make out your accounts and present them to me. There is a deficit, you say. A deficit may be temporary. Credit returns and funds are restored. No, Sire. Upon this year, perhaps, I understand that, but upon next year. Next year is eaten as bare as the current year. But the year after, then? Will be just like next year. What do you tell me, monsieur Colbert? I say there are four years engaged beforehand. They must have a loan, then. They must have three, Sire. I will create offices to make them resign, and the salary of the post shall be paid into the treasury. Impossible, Sire, for there have already been creations upon creations of offices, the provisions of which are given in blank so that the purchasers enjoy them without filling them. That is why your majesty cannot make them resign. Further, upon each agreement, monsieur Fouquet has made an abatement of a third, so that the people have been plundered without your majesty profiting by it. Let your majesty set down clearly your thought and tell me what you wish me to explain. You are right. Clearness is what you wish. Is it not? Yes, Sire. Clearness. God is God above all things, because he made light. Well, for example? Resumed Louis XIV. If today the cardinal being dead and I being king, suppose I wanted money? Your majesty would not have any. Huh! That is strange, monsieur. How? My superintendent would not find me any money? Colbert shook his large head. How was that? Said the king. Is the income of the state so much in debt that there is no longer any revenue? Yes, Sire. The king started. Explain me that, monsieur Colbert? Added he with a frown. If it be so, I will get together the ordinances to obtain a discharge from the holders, a liquidation at a cheap rate. Impossible, for the ordinances have been converted into bills, which bills, for the convenience of return and facility of transaction are divided into so many parts, that the originals can no longer be recognized. Louis very much agitated, walked about still frowning. But if this is as you say, monsieur Colbert, said he, stopping all at once, I shall be ruined before I begin to reign. You are, in fact, Sire. Said the impassable castor-up of figures. Well, but yet, monsieur, the money is somewhere. Yes, Sire, and even as a beginning, I bring your magistrate note of funds which monsieur Le Cardinal Mazarin was not willing to set down in his testament, neither in any act whatever, but which he confided to me. To you? Yes, Sire, with an injunction to remit it to your majesty. What, besides the forty millions of the testament? Yes, Sire. Monsieur de Mazarin had still other funds. Colbert bowed. Why, that man was a gulf! murmured the king. He assured de Mazarin on one side, monsieur Fouquet on the other, more than a hundred millions perhaps between them. No wonder my coffer should be empty. Colbert waited without stirring. And is the sum you bring me worth the trouble? Asked the king. Yes, Sire, it is a round sum. Amounting to how much? To thirteen millions of lever, Sire. Thirteen millions? cried Louis, trembling with joy. Do you say thirteen millions, monsieur Colbert? I said thirteen millions, yes, your majesty. Of which everybody is ignorant? Of which everybody is ignorant? Which are in your hands? In my hands, yes, Sire. And which I can have? Within two hours, Sire. But where are they then? In the cellar of a house which the cardinal possessed, in the city and which he was so kind as to leave me by a particular clause of his will. You are acquainted with the cardinal's will, then? I have a duplicate of it signed by his hand. A duplicate? Yes, Sire. And here it is. Colbert drew the deed quietly from his pocket and showed it to the king. The king read the article relative to the donation of the house. But, said he, there is no question here but of the house, there is nothing said of the money. Your pardon, Sire, it is in my conscience. And, monsieur Mazarin hasn't trusted it to you? Why not, Sire? He, a man mistrustful of everybody. He was not so of me, Sire, as your majesty may perceive. Louis fixed his eyes with admiration upon that vulgar but expressive face. You are an honest man, monsieur Colbert, said the king. That is not a virtue. It is a duty. I'd call bear, coolly. But, added Louis, does not the money belong to the family? If this money belonged to the family, it would be disposed of in the testament, as the rest of his fortune is. If this money belonged to the family, I, who drew up the deed of donation in favour of your majesty, should have added the sum of thirteen millions to that of forty millions which was offered to you. How? exclaimed Louis XIV. Was it you who drew up the deed of donation? Yes, Sire. And yet the cardinal was attached to you? added the king ingenuously. I had assured his eminence you would by no means accept the gift, said Colbert in that same quiet manner we have described, in which even in the common habits of life had something solemn in it. Louis passed his hand over his brow. Oh! how young I am! murmured he, to have the command of men. Colbert waited the end of this monologue. He saw Louis raise his head. At what hour shall I send the money to your majesty? asked he. Tonight, at eleven o'clock, I desire that no one may know that I possess this money. Colbert made no more reply than if the thing had not been said to him. Is the amount in ingots or coined gold? In coined gold, Sire. That is well. Where shall I send it? To the Louvre. Thank you, Mr. Colbert. Colbert bowed and retired. Thirteen millions! exclaimed Louis as soon as he was alone. This must be a dream! Then he allowed his head to sink between his hands as if he were really asleep. But at the end of a moment he arose, and opening the window violently, he bathed his burning brow in the keen morning air, which brought to his senses the scent of the trees and the perfume of flowers. A splendid dawn was gilding the horizon, and the first rays of the sun bathed inflamed the young king's brow. This is the dawn of my reign! murmured Louis XIV. It's a presage sent by the Almighty. Chapter 50 of the D'Artagnan Romances, Vol. 3 Part 1 by Alexandre Dumas, translated by William Robson. This leap of oxycording is in the public domain. The first day of the royalty of Louis XIV. In the morning the news of the death of the cardinal was spread through the castle, and thence speedily reached the city. The ministers Fouquet, Lyon, and LaTellier entered LaSalle de Sainte to hold a council. The king sent for them immediately. "'Missers,' said he, "'as long as Misser Le Cardinal lived, I allowed him to govern my affairs. But now I mean to govern them myself. You will give me your advice when I ask it. You may go.' The ministers looked at each other with surprise. If they concealed a smile it was with a great effort. For they knew that the prince brought up an absolute ignorance of business. By this took upon himself a burden much too heavy for his strength. Fouquet took leave of his colleagues upon the stairs, saying, "'Missers, there will be so much less labor for us.' And he climbed gaily into his carriage. The others a little uneasy at the turn things had taken went back to Paris together. Towards ten o'clock the king repaired to the apartment of his mother, with whom he had a long and private conversation. After dinner he got into his carriage and went straight to the Louvre. There he received much company and took a degree of pleasure in remarking the hesitation of each and the curiosity of all. This evening he ordered the doors of the Louvre to be closed, with the exception of one only which opened on the quay. He placed on duty at this point two hundred Swiss who did not speak a word of French, with orders to admit all who carried packages but no others, and by no means to allow anyone to go out. At eleven o'clock precisely he heard the rolling of a heavy carriage under the arch, then of another, then of a third, after which the gate grated upon its hinges to be closed. Soon after somebody scratched with his nail at the door of the cabinet. The king opened it himself and beheld Colbert, whose first word was this. The money is in your Majesty's cellar. The king then descended and went himself to see the barrels of Specie, in gold and silver, which under the direction of Colbert, four men had just rolled into a cellar of which the king had given Colbert the key in the morning. This review completed, Louis returned to his apartments, followed by Colbert, who had not apparently warmed with one ray of personal satisfaction. Mr. said the king, what do you wish that I should give you, as a recompense for this devotedness and probity? Absolutely nothing, Sire. How nothing? Not even an opportunity of serving me? If your Majesty were not to furnish me with that opportunity, I should not the less serve you. It is impossible for me not to be the best servant of the king. You shall be intendant of the finances, Mr. Colbert. But there is already a superintendent, Sire. I know that. Sire, the superintendent of the finances, is the most powerful man in the kingdom. Huh? cried Louis, colouring. Do you think so? He will crush me in a week, Sire. Your Majesty gives me a Contrôlée for which strength is indispensable, an intendant under a superintendent, that is, inferiority. You want support. You do not reckon upon me? I had the honour of telling your Majesty that during the lifetime of Mishir de Mazarin, Mishir Fouquet was the second man in the kingdom. Now Mishir de Mazarin is dead. Mishir Fouquet is become the first. Mishir, I agree to what you told me of all things up to today, but tomorrow please to remember I shall no longer suffer it. Then I shall be of no use to your Majesty. You are already, since you fear to compromise yourself in serving me. I only fear to be placed so that I cannot serve your Majesty. What do you wish then? I wish your Majesty to allow me assistance in the labours of the office of intendant. The post would lose its value. It would gain insecurity. Choose your colleagues. Mishir's Brutoye, Marine, Harvard. Tomorrow the ordnance shall appear. Sire, I thank you. Is that all you ask? No, Sire. One more thing. What is that? Allow me to compose a chamber of justice. What would this chamber of justice do? Try the farmer's general and contractors who during ten years have been robbing the state. Well, but what would you do with them? Hang two or three and that would make the rest disgorge. I cannot commence my reign with executions, Mishir Colbert. On the contrary, Sire, you had better in order not to have to end with them. The King made no reply. Does your Majesty consent? Said Colbert. I will reflect upon it, Mishir. It will be too late when reflection may be made. Why? Because you have to deal with people stronger than ourselves if they are warned. Compose that chamber of justice, Mishir. I will, Sire. Is that all? No, Sire. There is still another important affair. What rights does your Majesty attach to this office of intendant? Well, I do not know the customary ones. Sire, I desire that this office be invested with the right of reading the correspondence with England. Impossible, Mishir, for that correspondence is kept from the Council. Mishir Le Cardinal himself carried it on. I thought your Majesty had this morning declared that there should be no longer a Council. Yes, I said so. Let your Majesty then have the goodness to read all the letters yourself, particularly those from England. I hold strongly to this article. Mishir, you shall have that correspondence and render me an account of it. Now, Sire, what shall I do with respect to the finances? Nothing Mishir Fouquet has not done. That is all I ask of your Majesty. Thanks, Sire. I depart in peace. And at these words he took his leave. Louis watched his departure. Colbert was not yet a hundred paces from the Louvre when the King received a courier from England. After having looked at and examined the envelope, the King broke the seal precipitately and found a letter from Charles II. The following is what the English Prince wrote to his royal brother. Your Majesty must be rendered very uneasy by the illness of Mishir Le Cardinal Mazardine. But the excess of danger can only prove of service to you. The Cardinal is given over by his physician. I thank you for the gracious reply you have made to my communication touching the Princess Henrietta, my sister. And in a week the Princess and her court will set out for Paris. It is gratifying to me to acknowledge the fraternal friendship you have evinced toward me, and to call you, more justly than ever, my brother. It is gratifying to me, there above everything, to prove to your Majesty how much I am interested in all that may please you. You are having Belle Isle-en-Maire secretly fortified. That is wrong. We shall never be at war against each other. The measure does not make me uneasy. It makes me sad. You are spending useless millions. Tell your ministers so, and rest assured that I am well informed. Render me the same service, my brother, if occasion offers. The King rang his bell violently, and as Valet de Chambre appeared, Mishir Colbert has just gone. He cannot be far off. Let him be called back. exclaimed he. The Valet was about to execute the order when the King stopped him. No, said he. No. I see the whole scheme of that man. Belle Isle belongs to Mishir Fouquet. Belle Isle is being fortified. That is a conspiracy on the part of Mishir Fouquet. The discovery of that conspiracy is a ruin of the Superintendent, and that discovery is the result of the correspondence with England. This is why Colbert wished to have that correspondence. Oh! But I cannot place all my dependence upon that man. He has a good head, but I must have an arm. Louis all at once uttered a joyful cry. I had, said he, a lieutenant of musketeers. Yes, Sire, Mishir d'Artagnan. He quitted the service for a time. Yes, Sire. Let him be found and be here to-morrow the first thing in the morning. The Valet ischambra bowed and went out. Thirteen millions in my cellar, said the King, Colbert carrying my purse, and D'Artagnan my sword. I am king. End of chapter fifty, recording by John Van Stan, Savannah, Georgia. Chapter fifty-one of the D'Artagnan Romances, volume three, part one by Alexander Dumas, translated by William Robson. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. A Passion. The day of his arrival, on returning from the Palais Royale, Athos, as we have seen, went straight to his hotel in the Rue Saint-Honneur. He there found the Vicomte de Bragalone waiting for him in his chamber, chatting with Grimaud. It was not an easy thing to talk with this old servant. Two men only possessed the secret, Athos and D'Artagnan. The first succeeded because Grimaud sought to make him speak himself. D'Artagnan on the contrary, because he knew how to make Grimaud talk. Raoul was occupied in making him describe the voyage to England, and Grimaud had related it in all its details, with a limited number of gestures, and eight words, neither more nor less. He had at first indicated by an undulating movement of his hand that his master and he had crossed the sea. On some expedition, Raoul had asked, Grimaud, by bending down his head, had answered, Yes. When Monsieur Lecomte incurred much danger, asked Raoul, neither too much nor too little, was replied by a shrug of the shoulders, but still, what sort of danger? Insisted Raoul, Grimaud pointed to the sword, he pointed to the fire, and to a musket that was hanging on the wall. Monsieur Lecomte had an enemy there, then, cried Raoul, Monk, replied Grimaud. It is strange, continued Raoul, that Monsieur Lecomte persists in considering me a novice, and not allowing me to partake the honour and danger of his adventure. Grimaud smiled. It was at this moment Athos came in. The host was lighting him up the stairs, and Grimaud, recognizing the step of his master, hastened to meet him with cut short the conversation. But Raoul was launched on the sea of interrogatories and did not stop. Taking both hands of the Comte with warm but respectful tenderness, How is it, Monsieur? said he, that you have set out upon a dangerous voyage without bidding me a due, without commanding the aid of my sword, of myself, who ought to be your support. Now I have the strength, whom you have brought up like a man. Monsieur, can you expose me to the cruel trial of never seeing you again? Who told you, Raoul? said the Comte, placing his cloak and hat in the hands of Grimaud, who had unbuckled his sword. Who told you that my voyage was a dangerous one? I, said Grimaud, and why did you do so? said Athos sternly. Grimaud was embarrassed. Raoul came to his assistance by answering for him. It is natural, Monsieur, that our good Grimaud should tell me the truth in what concerns you, by whom should you be loved and supported, if not by me? Athos did not reply. He made a friendly motion to Grimaud which sent him out of the room. He then seated himself in a fauteau, whilst Raoul remained standing before him. But it is true, continued Raoul, that your voyage was an expedition. And that steel and fire threatened you. Say no more about that, Vecompte. said Athos mildly. I set out hastily. It is true. But the service of King Charles II required a prompt departure. As to your anxiety, I thank you for it, and I know that I can depend upon you. You have not wanted for anything, Vecompte, in my absence, have you? No, Monsieur. Thank you. I left orders with Blaiseuil to pay you a hundred pistoles if you should stand in need of money. Monsieur, I have not seen Blaiseuil. You have been without money, then. Monsieur, I had thirty pistoles left from the sale of the horses I took in my last campaign, and Michel Le Pran said the kindness to allow me to win two hundred pistoles at his play-table three months ago. Do you play? I don't like that, Raoul. I never play, Monsieur. It was Monsieur Le Pran who ordered me to hold his cards at Chantilly. One night when a courier came to him from the King, I won, and Monsieur Le Pran commanded me to take the stakes. Is that a practice in the household, Raoul? asked Athos with a frown. Yes, Monsieur. Every week Monsieur Le Pran affords upon one occasion or another a similar advantage to one of his gentlemen. There are fifty gentlemen in his highness's household. It was my turn. Very well. You went into Spain, then? Yes, Monsieur. I made a very delightful and interesting journey. You have been back a month, have you not? Yes, Monsieur. And in the course of that month? In that month? What have you done? My duty, Monsieur. Have you not been home? To La Faire? Raoul coloured. Athos looked at him with a fixed but tranquil expression. You would be wrong not to believe me, said Raoul. I feel that I coloured and in spite of myself. The question you did me the honour to ask me is of a nature to raise in me much emotion. I colour, then, because I am agitated, not because I meditate a falsehood. I know, Raoul, you never lie. No, Monsieur. Besides, my young friend, you would be wrong. What I wanted to say. I know quite well, Monsieur. You would ask me if I have not been to Blois. Exactly so. I have not been there. I have not even seen the person to whom you allude. Raoul's voice trembled as he pronounced these words. Athos, a sovereign judge in all matters of delicacy, immediately added, Raoul, you answer with a painful feeling. You are unhappy. Very, Monsieur. You have forbidden me to go to Blois or to see Mademoiselle de la Valière again. Here the young man stopped. That dear name, so delightful to pronounce, made his heart bleed, although so sweet upon his lips. I have acted rightly, Raoul, Athos hastened to reply. I am neither an unjust nor barbarous father. I respect true love, but I look forward for you to a future, an immense future. A new reign is about to break upon us like a fresh dawn. War calls upon a young king full of chivalric spirit. What is wanting to assist this heroic ardour is a battalion of young and free lieutenants, who would rush to the fight, with enthusiasm and fall crying, Vive la Ra, instead of a doom, my dear wife. You understand that, Raoul. However brutal my reasoning may appear, I conjure you, then, to believe me, and to turn away your thoughts from those early days of youth in which you took up this habit of love, days of effeminate carelessness, which soften the heart and render it incapable of consuming those strong, bitter drafts, called glory and adversity. Therefore, Raoul, I repeat to you, you should see in my counsel only the desire of being useful to you, only the ambition of seeing you prosper. I believe you capable of becoming a remarkable man. March alone, and you will march better, and more quickly. You have commanded, monsieur," replied Raoul, and I obey. "'Commanded?' cried Athos. "'Is it thus you reply to me? I have commanded you. Oh! You distort my words as you misconceive my intentions. I do not command you. I request you.' "'No, monsieur. You have commanded,' said Raoul persistently. "'Had you only requested me, your request is even more effective than your order. I have not seen Manwazel to Valia again. But you are unhappy. You are unhappy,' insisted Athos. Raoul made no reply. "'I find you pale. I find you dull.' The sentiment is strong, then.' "'It is a passion,' replied Raoul. "'No, a habit.' "'Monsieur, you know I have traveled much. But I have passed two years far away from her. A habit would yield to an absence of two years, I believe. Whereas on my return I loved not more. That was impossible, but as much. What was felt above all year is for me the one lady above all others. But you are for me a God upon earth. To you I sacrifice everything.' "'You are wrong,' said Athos. "'I have no longer any right over you. Age has emancipated you. You no longer even stand in need of my consent. Besides, I will not refuse my consent after what you have told me. Mary, madmouselle Telavadier, if you like.' Raoul was startled, but suddenly, "'You are very kind, monsieur,' said he, and your concession excites my warmest gratitude, but I will not accept it.' "'Then you now refuse?' "'Yes, monsieur.' "'I will not oppose you in anything, Raoul. But you have at the bottom of your heart an idea against this marriage. It is not your choice.' "'That is true.' "'That is sufficient to make me resist. I will wait.' "'Beware, Raoul. What you are now saying is serious.' "'I know it is, monsieur. As I said, I will wait.' "'Until I die?' said Athos, much agitated. "'Oh, monsieur!' cried Raoul with tears in his eyes. "'Is it possible that you should wound my heart thus? I have never given you cause of complaint.' "'Dear boy, that is true,' murmured Athos, pressing his lips violently together to conceal the emotion of which he was no longer master. "'No, I will no longer reflect you. Only I do not comprehend what you mean by waiting. Will you wait till you love no longer?' "'For that, no, monsieur. I will wait till you change your opinion.' "'I should wish to put the matter to a test, Raoul. I should like to see if Manuel de la Valière will wait as you do.' "'I hope so, monsieur.' "'But take care, Raoul. "'Suppose she did not wait.' "'You are so young, so confiding, so loyal. Women are changeable.' "'You have never spoken ill to me of women, monsieur. You have never had to complain of them. Why should you doubt if mademoiselle de la Valière?' "'That is true,' said Athos, casting down his eyes. "'I have never spoken ill to you of women. I have never had to complain of them. Mademoiselle de la Valière never gave birth to a suspicion. But when we are looking forward we must go even to exceptions, even to improbabilities. If I say Mademoiselle de la Valière should not wait for you.' "'How, monsieur?' "'If she turned her eyes another way.' "'If she looked favorably upon another, do you mean, monsieur?' "'Said Raoul, pale with agony. "'Exactly.' "'Well, monsieur, I would kill him,' said Raoul simply. "'And all the men whom Mademoiselle de la Valière should choose, until one of them had killed me, or Mademoiselle de la Valière had restored me to her heart.' "'Athos started?' "'I thought.' "'Resumed he in an agitated voice.' "'That you called me just now your god, your law on this world?' "'Oh,' said Raoul, trembling, "'you would forbid me the duel?' "'Suppose I did forbid it, Raoul.' "'You would forbid me to hope, monsieur. Consequently you would not forbid me to die.' Athos raised his eyes toward the Vidcompt. He had pronounced these words with the most melancholy inflection accompanied by the most melancholy look. "'Enough,' said Athos after a long silence. "'Enough of this subject upon which we both go too far. "'Live as well as you are able, Raoul. "'Perform your duties.' "'Love, Mademoiselle de la Valière, in a word, act like a man, "'since you have attained the age of a man. "'Only do not forget that I love you tenderly, "'and that you profess to love me.' "'Ah, monsieur Lecompt,' cried Raoul, pressing the hand of Athos to his heart. "'Enough, dear boy. Leave me. I want rest. "'Apropos, monsieur D'Artagnan has returned from England with me. "'You owe him a visit.' "'I will pay it, monsieur. With great pleasure. "'I love monsieur D'Artagnan exceedingly.' "'You are right in doing so. He is a worthy man and a brave cavalier.' "'Who loves you dearly?' "'I am sure of that. Do you know his address?' "'At the Louvre, I suppose, or wherever the king is, does he not command the musketeers?' "'No. At present, monsieur D'Artagnan is absent on leave. He is resting for a while. Do not therefore seek him at the post of his service. You will hear of him at the house of a certain planchette.' "'His former lackey?' "'Exactly. Turned grosser.' "'I know. Rue de Lombard?' "'Somewhere thereabouts, or Rue d'Arcie.' "'I will find it, monsieur. I will find it.' "'You will say a thousand kind things to him on my part, and ask him to come and die in with me before I set out for the fair.' "'Yes, monsieur.' "'Good night, Raoul.' "'Monsieur, I see you wear an order I never saw you wear before. Except my compliments.' "'The fleece. That is true. A bobo, my boy, which no longer amuses an old child like myself.' "'Good night, Raoul.' "'End of Chapter 51. Recording by John Van Stan. Savannah, Georgia.' Chapter 52 of the D'Artagnan Romances, Volume 3, Part 1, by Alexander Dumas, translated by William Robson. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. D'Artagnan's Lesson Raoul did not meet with D'Artagnan the next day, as he had hoped. He only met with Planchett, whose joy was great at seeing the young man again, and who contrived to pay him two or three little soldierly compliments, savoring very little of the grocer's shop. But as Raoul was returning the next day from Vincennes, ahead of fifty dragoons confided to him by Monsieur La France, he perceived in Laplace-Bourrier a man with his nose in the air, examining a house as we examine a horse we have a fancy to buy. This man, dressed in citizen costume, buttoned up like a military porpoise, a very small hat on his head, but a long chagrin mounted sword by his side, turned his head as soon as he heard the steps of the horses, and left off looking at the house to look at the dragoons. It was simply Monsieur D'Artagnan. D'Artagnan on foot, D'Artagnan with his hands behind him, passing a little review upon the dragoons after having reviewed the buildings. Not a man, not a tag, not a horse's hoof escaped his inspection. Raoul rode at the side of his troop, and D'Artagnan perceived him the last. Eh! said he. Eh! Mordeux! I was not mistaken, cried Raoul, turning his horse towards him. Mistaken! No! Good day to you! replied the ex-musketeer, whilst Raoul eagerly pressed the hand of his old friend. Take care, Raoul, said D'Artagnan. The second horse of the fifth rank will lose a shoe before he gets to the paltmerie. He has only two nails left in his off forefoot. Wait a minute. I will come back, said Raoul. Can you quit your detachment? The cornet is there to take my place. Then you will come and dine with me. Most willingly, Monsieur D'Artagnan. Be quick, then. Leave your horse, or make them give me one. I prefer coming back on foot with you. Raoul hastened to give notice to the cornet, who took his post, he then dismounted, gave his horse to one of the dragoons, and with great delight seized the arm of Monsieur D'Artagnan, who had watched him during all these little evolutions with the satisfaction of a connoisseur. What? Do you come from Vincennes? said he. Yes, Monsieur Le Chevalier. And the Cardinal. Is very ill. It is even reported he is dead. Are you on good terms with Monsieur Fouquet? asked D'Artagnan with a disdainful movement of the shoulders, proving that the death of Mazarin did not affect him beyond measure. With Monsieur Fouquet, said Raoul, I do not know him. So much the worse, so much the worse, for a new king always seeks to get good men in his employment. Oh, the king means no harm, replied the young man. I say nothing about the crown, cried D'Artagnan. I am speaking of the king, the king! That is Monsieur Fouquet. If the cardinal is dead, you must contrive to stand well with Monsieur Fouquet. If you do not wish to molder away all your life as I have moldered, it is true you have fortunately other protectors. Monsieur Le Prance, for instance. Warn out! Warn out! Monsieur Le Compte Le Faire. Athos! Oh, that's different, yes, Athos. And if you have any wish to make your way in England, you cannot apply to a better person. I can even say without too much vanity that I myself have some credit at the court of Charles II. There is a king! God speed him! Ah, cried Raoul with the natural curiosity of well-born young people while listening to experience and courage. Yes, a king who amuses himself, it is true, but who has had a sword in his hand and can appreciate useful men. Athos is on good terms with Charles II. Take service there, and leave these scoundrels of contractors and farmers-general, who steal as well with French hands as others have done with Italian hands. Leave the little sniveling king, who is going to give us another reign of Francis II. Do you know anything of history, Raoul? Yes, Monsieur Le Chevalier. Do you know, then, that Francis II had always the earache? No, I did not know that. That Charles IV had always the headache. Indeed. And Henry III always the stomachache. Raoul began to laugh. Well, my dear friend, Louis XIV always has the heartache. It is deplorable to see a king sighing from morning till night without saying once in course of the day, Ventre Sainte-Grie, Quebeuf, or anything to rouse one. Was that the reason why you quitted this service, Monsieur Le Chevalier? Yes. But you yourself, Monsieur D'Artagnan, are throwing the handle after the axe. You will not make a fortune. Who? I, replied D'Artagnan in a careless tone. I am settled. I had some family property. Raoul looked at him. The poverty of D'Artagnan was proverbial. A Gascon, he exceeded and ill luck all the Gascanads of France and Navarre. Raoul had a hundred times heard Job and D'Artagnan named together, as the twins Romulus and Remus. D'Artagnan caught Raoul's look of astonishment. And has your father not told you I have been in England? Yes, Monsieur Le Chevalier. And that I there met with a very lucky chance? No, Monsieur, I did not know that. Yes, a very worthy friend of mine, a great nobleman, a viceroy of Scotland and Ireland, has endowed me with an inheritance. An inheritance? And a good one, too. Then you are rich? Receive my sincere congratulation. Thank you. Look, that is my house. Plastigreve? Yes, don't you like this quarter? On the contrary, the look out over the water is pleasant. Oh, what a pretty old house. The sign Notre-Dame. It is an old cabaret which I have transformed into a private house in two days. But the cabaret is still open. Part due. And where do you lodge, then? I lodge with planchette. You said just now, this is my house. I said so because, in fact, it is my house. I have bought it. Ah, said Raoul, at ten years purchase, my dear Raoul, a superb affair. I bought the house for thirty thousand lever. It has a garden which opens to the rue de la mortillerie. The cabaret lets for a thousand lever. With the first story, the garret, or second floor for five hundred lever. Indeed. Yes, indeed. Five hundred lever for a garret. Why, it is not habitable. Therefore, no one inhabits it. Only you see this garret has two windows which look out upon the plaza. Yes, monsieur. Well, then every time anybody is broken on the wheel, or hung, quartered, or burnt, these two windows let for twenty bestolles. Oh, said Raoul with horror. It is disgusting, is it not? Said D'Artagnan. Oh, repeated Raoul. It is disgusting, but so it is. These Parisian cockneys are sometimes real anthropophagy. I cannot conceive how men, Christians, can make such speculations. That is true. As for myself, continued D'Artagnan, if I inhabited that house, on days of execution I would shut it up to the very keyholes. But I do not inhabit it. And you let the garret for five hundred lever? To the ferocious cabaretier who sublets it. I said, then, fifteen hundred lever. The natural interest of money, said Raoul, five percent. Exactly so. I then have the left side of the house at the back, storerooms and cellars inundated every winter, two hundred lever, in the garden, which is very fine, well planted, well shaded under the walls and the portal of Saint-Gervais-Saint-Porté, thirteen hundred lever. Thirteen hundred lever? Why, that is royal. This is the whole history. I strongly suspect some cannon of the parish. These cannons are all as rich as Croesus. I suspect some cannon of having hired the garden to take his pleasure in. The tenant has given the name of Monsieur Godard. That is either a false name or a real name. If true, he is a cannon. If false, he is some unknown, but of what consequence is it to me? He always pays in advance. I had also an idea just now, when I met you, of buying a house in the Place-Bourrier, the back premises of which joined my garden and would make a magnificent property. Your dragoons interrupted my calculations. But come, let us take the roue de la Vanarrie that will lead us straight to Monsieur Planchet's. D'Artagnan mended his pace and conducted Raoul de Planchet's dwelling, a chamber of which the grocer had given up to his old master. Planchet was out, but the dinner was ready. There was a remains of military regularity and punctuality preserved in the grocer's household. D'Artagnan returned to the subject of Raoul's future. Your father brings you up rather strictly, said he. Justly, Monsieur Lechabaye. Oh yes, I know Athos is just, but close, perhaps. A royal hand, Monsieur D'Artagnan. Well, never want, my boy. If you ever stand in need of a few pistolets, the old musketeer is at hand. My dear Monsieur D'Artagnan, do you play a little? Never. Successful with the ladies, then. Oh, my little Aramis, that, my dear friend, costs even more than play. It is true we fight when we lose. That is a compensation. Bah, that little sniveller of the king makes winners give him his revenge. What a rain. My poor Raoul, what a rain. When we think that in my time the musketeers were besieged in their houses like Hector and Priam, in the city of Troy, and the women wept, and then the walls laughed, and then five hundred beggarly fellows clapped their hands and cried, kill, kill, when not one musketeer was hurt. Morde, you will never see anything like that. You are very hard upon the king, my dear Monsieur D'Artagnan, and yet you scarcely know him. I? Listen, Raoul. Day by day, hour by hour, take note of my words, I will predict what he will do. The cardinal being dead he will fret. Very well, that is the least silly thing he will do, particularly if he does not shed a tear. And then? Why? Then he will get Monsieur Fouquet to allow him a pension, and will go and compose verses at Fontainebleu upon some mancini or other whose eyes the queen will scratch out. She is a Spaniard, you see, this queen of ours, and she has for mother-in-law Madame Anne of Austria. I know something of the Spaniards of the House of Austria. And next? Well, after having torn off the silver lace from the uniforms of the Swiss, because lace is too expensive, he will dismount the musketeers, because the oats and hay of a horse cost five souls a day. Oh, do not say that. Of what consequences it to me? I am no longer a musketeer, am I? Let them be on horseback, let them be on foot, let them carry a larding pin, a spit, a sword, or nothing. What is it to me? My dear Monsieur D'Artagnan, I beseech you speak no more ill of the king. I am almost in his service, and my father would be very angry with me for having heard, even from your mouth, words injurious to his majesty. Your father, eh? He is a knight in every bad cause. Part due, yes, your father is a brave man, a Caesar it is true, but a man without perception. Now, my dear Chevalier, exclaimed Raoul laughing, are you going to speak ill of my father? Of him you call the great Athos. Truly, you are in a bad vein today. Riches render you as sour as poverty renders other people. Part due, you are right, I am a rascal, and in my dotage I am an unhappy wretch grown old, a tentcourt untwisted, a pierced cuirass, a boot without a soul, a spur without a Raoul, but do me the pleasure to add one thing. What is that, my dear Monsieur D'Artagnan? Simply say, Mazarin was a pitiful wretch. Perhaps he is dead. More the reason, I say was, if I did not hope that he was dead, I would entreat you to say, Mazarin is a pitiful wretch. Come, say so, say so for the love of me. Well, I will. Say it. Mazarin was a pitiful wretch, said Raoul, smiling at the musketeer who roared with a laughter, as in his best days. A moment, said the latter, you have spoken my first proposition. Here is the conclusion of it. Repeat, Raoul, repeat, but I regret Mazarin. Chevalier, you will not say it then. Well, then I will say it twice for you. But you would regret Mazarin. And they were still laughing and discussing this profession of principles when one of the shop boys entered. A letter, Monsieur, said he, for Monsieur D'Artagnan. Thank you, give it to me, cried the musketeer. The handwriting of Monsieur Lecompt, said Raoul. Yes, yes. And D'Artagnan broke the seal. Dear friend, said Athos, a person has just been here to beg me to seek for you on the part of the king. Seek me, said D'Artagnan, letting the paper fall upon the table. Raoul picked it up and continued to read aloud. Make haste, his majesty is very anxious to speak to you, and expects you at the Louvre. Expects me? Again repeated the musketeer. Laugh, Raoul. Oh, replied D'Artagnan, what the devil can this mean? End of chapter 52, recording by John Van Stan, Savannah, Georgia. Chapter 53 of the D'Artagnan Romances, Volume 3, Part 1 by Alexander Dumas, translated by William Robson. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. The king. The first moment of surprise over. D'Artagnan re-perused Athos's note. It is strange, said he, that the king should send for me. Why so? said Raoul. Do not think, monsieur, that the king must regret such a servant as you. Ho-ho-ho! cried the officer, laughing with all his might. You are poking fun at me, master Raoul. If the king had regretted me, he would not have let me leave him. No, no. I see it's something better, or worse, if you like. Worse? What can that be, monsieur Lechevalier? You are young. You are a boy. You are admirable. Oh, how I should like to be as you are, to be the twenty-four with an unfurrowed prowl, under which the brain is void of everything but women, love, and good intentions. Oh, Raoul, as long as you have not received the smiles of kings, the confidence of queens, as long as you have not had two cardinals killed under you, the one a tiger, the other a fox, as long as you have not, but what is the good of all this trifling? We must part, Raoul. How you say the word, what a serious face. But the occasion is worthy of it. Listen to me. I have a very good recommendation to tender you. I am all attention, monsieur d'Artagnan. You will go and inform your father of my departure. Your departure? Pardue. You will tell him that I am gone into England, and that I am living in my little country house. In England? You? And the king's orders? You get more and more silly. Do you imagine that I am going to the Louvre, to place myself at the disposal of that little crowned wolf cub? The king of wolf cub? Why, monsieur Lechevrier, you are mad. On the contrary, I never was so sane. You do not know what he wants to do with me. This worthy son of Louis the Just. But, more dear, that is policy. He wishes to ensconce me snugly in the Bastille. Purely and simply, look you. What for? cried Raoul, terrified at what he heard. On account of what I told him one day at Blois, I was warm. He remembers it. You told him what? That he was mean, cowardly, and silly. Good God! cried Raoul. Is it possible that such words should have issued from your mouth? Perhaps I don't give the letter of my speech, but I give the sense of it. But did not the king have you arrested immediately? By whom? It was I who commanded the musketeers. He must have commanded me to convey myself to prison. I would never have consented. I would have resisted myself. And then I went into England. No more d'Artagnan. Now the cardinal is dead. Or nearly so. They learn that I am in Paris. And they lay their hands on me. The cardinal was your protector? The cardinal knew me. He knew certain particularities of me. I also knew some of his. We appreciated each other mutually. And then on rendering his soul to the devil, he would recommend Anne of Austria to make me the inhabitant of a safe place. Go, then, and find your father. Relate the fact to him. And adieu. My dear Mr. D'Artagnan, said Raoul, very much agitated after having looked out at the window. You cannot even fly. Why not? Because there is below an officer of the Swiss guards waiting for you. Well? Well, he will arrest you. D'Artagnan broke into a Homeric laugh. Oh, I know very well that you will resist, that you will fight even. I know very well that you will prove the conqueror. But that amounts to rebellion. And you are an officer yourself, knowing what discipline is. Devil of a boy! How logical that is! grumbled D'Artagnan. You approve of it, do you not? Yes. Instead of passing into the street where that idiot is waiting for me, I will slip quietly out at the back. I have a horse in the stable and a good one. I will ride him to death. My means permit me to do so. And by killing one horse after another, I shall arrive at Belone in eleven hours. I know the road. Only tell your father one thing. What is that? That is, that the thing he knows about is placed at Planchett's house, except a fifth, and that. But, my dear Mr. D'Artagnan, rest assured that if you fly two things will be said of you. What are they, my dear friend? The first, that you have been afraid. Ha! And who would dare to say that? The king first. Well, but he will tell the truth I am afraid. The second, that you knew yourself guilty. Guilty of what? Why, of the crimes they wish to impute to you. That is true again. So then, you advise me to go and get myself made a prisoner in the Bastille? Mr. Lecompte de La Faire would advise you just as I do. Part due. I know he would, said D'Artagnan thoughtfully. You are right. I shall not escape. But if they cast me into the Bastille, we will get you out again, said Raoul, with a quiet calm air. Mourdoux! You said that after a brave fashion, Raoul, said D'Artagnan, seizing his hand. That savers of Athos distinctly. Well, I will go then. Do not forget my last word. Except a fifth, said Raoul. Yes, you are a fine boy, and I wish you add one thing to that last word. Speak, Chevalier. It is that, if you cannot get me out of the Bastille, and I remain there. Oh, that will be so, and I shall be a detestable prisoner, I who have been a passable man. In that case, I give three-fifths to you and the fourth to your father. Chevalier. Mourdoux! If you will have some masses said for me, you are welcome. That being said, D'Artagnan took his belt from the hook, girded on his sword, took a hat, the feather of which was fresh, and held his hand out to Raoul, who threw himself into his arms. When in the shop, he cast a quick glance at the shop lads, who looked upon the scene with a pride, mingled with some inquietude. Then, plunging his hands into a chest of currents, he went straight to the officer who was waiting for him at the door. Chevalier. Those features. Can it be you, Monsieur D'Afridish? cried D'Artagnan gaily. Hey, hey! What? Do we arrest our friends? Arrest? whispered the lads among themselves. Yes, it is I, Monsieur D'Artagnan. Good day to you! said the Swiss and his mountain patois. Must I give you up my sword? I warn you that it is long and heavy. You had better let me wear it to the Louvre. I feel quite lost in the streets without a sword, and you would be more at a loss than I should with two. The King has given no orders about it, replied the Swiss. So keep your sword. Well, that is very polite on the part of the King. Let us go at once. Monsieur D'Afridish was not a talker, and D'Artagnan had too many things to think about to say much. From Planchett's shop to the Louvre was not far. They arrived in ten minutes. It was a dark night. Monsieur D'Afridish wanted to enter by the wicket. No, said D'Artagnan. You would lose time by that. Take the little staircase. The Swiss did, as D'Artagnan advised, and conducted him to the vestibule of the King's cabinet. When arrived there, he bowed to his prisoner and, without saying anything, returned to his post. D'Artagnan had not had time to ask why his sword was not taken from him when the door of the cabinet opened and a valet de chambre called Monsieur D'Artagnan. The musketeer assumed his parade carriage and entered, with his large eyes wide open, his brow calm, his mustache stiff. The King was seated at a table writing. He did not disturb himself when the step of the musketeer resounded on the floor. He did not even turn his head. D'Artagnan advanced as far as the middle of the room, and seeing that the King paid no attention to him, and suspecting besides that this was nothing but affectation, a sort of tormenting preamble to the explanation that was preparing, he turned his back on the prince, and began to examine the frescoes on the cornices and the cracks in the ceiling. This manoeuvre was accompanied by a little tacit monologue. Ha! You want to humble me, do you? You, whom I have seen so young. You, whom I have served as I would my own child. You, whom I have served as I would a god. That is to say for nothing. Wait a while. Wait a while. You shall see what a man can do who has snuffed the air of the fire of the Huguenots under the beard of Monsieur Le Cardinal. The true Cardinal. At this moment Louis turned around. Ha! Are you there, Monsieur D'Artagnan? Said he. D'Artagnan saw the movement and imitated it. Yes, Sire, said he. Very well. Have the goodness to wait till I have cast this up. D'Artagnan made no reply. He only bowed. That is polite enough, thought he. I have nothing to say. Louis made a violent dash with his pen, and threw it angrily away. Ha! Go on. Work yourself up. Thought the musketeer. You will put me at my ease. You shall find I did not empty the bag the other day at Blois. Louis rose from his seat, passed his hand over his brow, then, stopping opposite to D'Artagnan, he looked at him with an air at once imperious and kind. What the devil does he want with me? I wish he would begin. Thought the musketeer. Monsieur, said the king. You know without doubt that Monsieur Le Cardinal is dead. I suspected so, Sire. You know that consequently I am master in my own kingdom? That is not a thing that dates from the death of Monsieur Le Cardinal, Sire. A man is always master in his own house when he wishes to be so. Yes, but do you remember all you said to me at Blois? Now we come to it, thought D'Artagnan. I was not deceived. Well, so much the better. It is a sign that my scent is tolerably keen yet. You do not answer me, said Louis. Sire, I think I recollect. You only think. It is so long ago. If you do not remember, I do. You said to me, Listen with attention. Ah, I shall listen with all my ears, Sire, for it is very likely the conversation will turn in a fashion very interesting to me. Louis once more looked at the musketeer, the latter smoothed the feather of his hat then his mustache, and waited bravely. Louis XIV continued. You quitted my service, Monsieur, after having told me the whole truth? Yes, Sire. That is, after having declared to me all you thought to be true, with regard to my mode of thinking and acting, that is always a merit. You began by telling me that you had served my family thirty years, and were fatigued. I said so. Yes, Sire. And you afterwards admitted that that fatigue was a pretext, and that a discontent was the real cause? I was discontented, in fact, but that discontent has never betrayed itself that I know of, and if, like a man of heart, I have spoken out before your majesty, I have not even thought of the matter before anybody else. Do not be afraid, Sire. Do not excuse yourself, d'Artagnan, but continue to listen to me. When making me the reproach that you were discontented, you received in reply a promise. Wait! Is not that true? Yes, Sire, as true as what I told you. You answered me, hereafter. No, now, immediately. Do not excuse yourself, I tell you. It was natural, but you had no charity for your poor prince, Mr. d'Artagnan. Sire, charity for a king, on the part of a poor soldier! You understand me very well. You knew that I stood in need of it. You knew very well that I was not master. You knew very well that my hope was in the future. Now you answered me when I spoke of that future, my discharge. And that directly. That is true, murmured d'Artagnan, biting his mustache. You did not flatter me when I was in distress, added Louis. But, said d'Artagnan, raising his head nobly, if I did not flatter your majesty when poor, neither did I betray you. I have shed my blood for nothing. I have watched like a dog at a door, knowing full well that neither bread nor bone would be thrown to me. I, although poor likewise, asked nothing of your majesty but the discharge you speak of. I know you are a brave man, but I was a young man, and you ought to have had some indulgence for me. What had you to reproach the king with? That he left King Charles a second without assistance? Let us say further that he did not marry Mademoiselle de Mancini? When saying these words, the king fixed upon the musketeer a searching look. Ha-ha! thought the latter. He is doing far more than remembering he devines the devil. Your sentence, continued Louis, fell upon the king and fell upon the man. But, M. D'Artagnan, that weakness, for you considered it a weakness. D'Artagnan made no reply. You reproached me also with regard to M. the defunct cardinal. Now, M. Le Cardinal, did he not bring me up? Did he not support me? Elevating himself and supporting himself at the same time, I admit, but the benefit was discharged. As an ingrate or an egotist, would you then have better loved or served me? Sire, we will say no more about it, M. it would only create in you too many regrets and me too much pain. D'Artagnan was not convinced. The young king and adopting a tone of hauteur with him did not forward his purpose. You have since reflected, resumed Louis. Upon what, Sire? asked D'Artagnan politely. Why, upon all that I have said to you, M. sir? Yes, Sire, no doubt. And you have only waited for an opportunity of retracting your words. Sire, you hesitate, it seems. I do not understand what your majesty did me the honor to say to me. Louis' brow became cloudy. Have the goodness to excuse me, Sire. My understanding is particularly thick. Things do not penetrate it without difficulty, but it is true, when once they get in they remain there. Yes, yes, you appear to have a memory. Almost as good a one as your majesty's. Then give me quickly one solution. My time is valuable. What have you been doing since your discharge? Making my fortune, Sire. The expression is crude, M. D'Artagnan. Your majesty takes it in bad part, certainly. I entertain nothing but the profoundest respect for the king, and if I have been in polite, which might be excused by my long sojourn in camps and barracks, your majesty is too much above me to be offended at a word that innocently escapes from a soldier. In fact, I know you performed a brilliant action in England, M. Sir. I only regret that you have broken your promise. I cried, D'Artagnan. Doubtless, you engaged your word not to serve any other prince on quitting my service. Now it was for King Charles II that you undertook the marvelous carrying off of M. Munk. Pardon me, Sire, it was for myself. And did you succeed? Like the captains of the fifteenth century, crude a man and adventures. What do you call succeeding? A fortune. A hundred thousand crowns, Sire, which I now possess. That is, in one week three times as much money as I ever had in fifty years. It is a handsome sum, but you are ambitious, I perceive. I, Sire, the quarter of that would be a treasure, and I swear to you I have no thought of augmenting it. What? You contemplate remaining idle? Yes, Sire. You mean to drop the sword? That I have already done. Impossible, M. Sir. D'Artagnan, said Louis firmly. But, Sire, well, and why, Sire? Because it is my wish you should not. Said the young prince in a voice so stern and imperious that D'Artagnan evinced surprise and even uneasiness. Will your majesty allow me one word of reply? Said he. Speak. I formed that resolution when I was poor and destitute. So be it. Go on. Now, when, by my energy, I have acquired a comfortable means of subsistence, would your majesty dispoil me of my liberty? Your majesty would condemn me to the lowest, when I have gained the highest. Who gave you permission, M. Sir, to fathom my designs or to reckon with me? Replied Louis in a voice almost angry. Who told you what I shall do or what you will yourself do? Sire. Said the musketeer quietly. As far as I see, freedom is not the order of the conversation, as it was on the day we came to an explanation at Blois. No, M. Sir, everything is changed. I tender your majesty my sincere compliments upon that, but… But you don't believe it. I am not a great statesman, and yet I have my eye upon affairs. It seldom fails. Now, I do not see exactly as your majesty does, Sire. The reign of Mazarin is over, but that of the financiers is begun. They have the money. Your majesty will not often see much of it. To live under the paw of these hungry wolves is hard, for a man who reckoned upon independence. At this moment, someone scratched at the door of the cabinet. The king raised his head proudly. You are pardoned, M. D'Artagnan. Said he. It is M. Colbert who comes to make me a report. Come in, M. Colbert. D'Artagnan drew back. Colbert entered with papers in hand, and went up to the king. There can be little doubt that the Gascon did not lose the opportunity of applying his keen, quick glance to the new figure which presented itself. Is the inquiry made? Yes, Sire. And the opinion of the inquisitors? Is that the accused, the merit, confiscation, and the death? Said the king without changing countenance and casting an oblique look at D'Artagnan. And your own opinion, M. Colbert? Said he. Colbert looked at D'Artagnan in his turn. That imposing countenance checked the words upon his lips. Louis perceived this. Do not disturb yourself. Said he. It is M. D'Artagnan. Do you not know M. D'Artagnan again? These two men looked at each other. D'Artagnan with eyes open and bright as the day. Colbert with his half closed and dim. The frank intrepidity of the one annoyed the other. The circumspection of the financier disgusted the soldier. Ah, ah, this is the gentleman who made the brilliant stroke in England. Said Colbert, and he bowed slightly to D'Artagnan. Ah, ah, said the gaskon. This is the gentleman who clipped off the lace from the uniform of the Swiss. A praiseworthy piece of economy. The financier thought to pierce the musketeer, but the musketeer ran the financier through. M. D'Artagnan resumed the king, who had not remarked all the shades of which Maserine would have missed not one. This concerns the farmers of the revenue who have robbed me, whom I am hanging, and whose death warrants I am about to sign. Oh, oh, said D'Artagnan, starting. What did you say? Oh, nothing, Sire. This is no business of mine. The king had already taken up the pen and was applying it to the paper. Sire, said Colbert in a subdued voice, I beg to warn your majesty, that if an example be necessary, there will be difficulty in the execution of your orders. What do you say? Said Louis. You must not conceal from yourself. Continued Colbert quietly. That attacking the farmers general is attacking the superintendents. The two unfortunate guilty men in question are the particular friends of a powerful personage, and this punishment, which otherwise might be comfortably confined to the châtelet, which doubtless will be a signal for disturbances. Louis collared and turned toward D'Artagnan, who took a slight bite at his mustache, not without a smile of pity for the financier, and for the king who had to listen to him so long. But Louis seized the pen, and with a movement so rapid that his hand shook, he affixed his signature at the bottom of the two papers presented by Colbert, then looking the latter in the face. Monsieur Colbert, said he, When you speak to me on business, exclude the more frequently the word difficulty from your reasonings and opinions, as to the word impossibility, never pronounce it. Colbert bowed, much humiliated at having to undergo such a lesson before the musketeer. He was about to go out, but jealous to repair his check. I forgot to announce to your majesty, said he, that the confiscations amount to the sum of five millions of lever. That's pretty well, thought D'Artagnan. Which makes in my coffers? said the king. Eighteen millions of levers, Sire, replied Colbert, bowing. My dear! growled D'Artagnan. That's glorious! Monsieur Colbert? added the king. You will, if you please, go through the gallery where Monsieur Lyon is waiting, and will tell him to bring hither what he has drawn up by my order. Directly, Sire, if your majesty wants me no more this evening. No, Monsieur, good night. And Colbert went out. Now, let us return to our fair, Monsieur D'Artagnan, said the king, as if nothing had happened. You see, that with respect to money there is already a notable change. Something to the tune of, from zero to eighteen millions, replied the musketeer gaily. Ha! that was what your majesty wanted the day king Charles I came to Bois. The two states would not have been embroiled today, for I must say that there also I see another stumbling block. Well, in the first place, replied Louis, You are unjust, monsieur, for if Providence had made me able to give my brother the million that day, you would not have quitted my service, and consequently, you would not have made your fortune, as you told me just now you have done. But, in addition to this, I have had another piece of good fortune, and my difference with Great Britain need not alarm you. A valet de Chambre interrupted the king by announcing Monsieur Lyon. Come in, monsieur, said the king. You are punctual. That is like a good servant. Let us see your letter to my brother Charles II. D'Artagnan pricked up his ears. A moment, monsieur, said Louis carelessly to the gaskon. I must expedite to London my consent to the marriage of my brother, monsieur Le Duc d'Angieux, with the princess Henrietta Stewart. He is knocking me about, it seems. murmured D'Artagnan, whilst the king signed the letter and dismissed Monsieur de Lyon. But, ma foie, the more he knocks me about in this manner, the better I like it. The king followed Monsieur de Lyon with his eyes, till the door was closed behind him. He even made three steps as if he would follow the minister, but, after these three steps, stopping, pausing, and coming back to the musketeer, now, monsieur, said he, let us hasten to terminate our affair. You told me the other day, a blois, that you were not rich. But I am now, Sire. Yes, but that does not concern me. You have your own money, not mine. That does not enter into my account. I do not well understand what your majesty means. Then, instead of leaving you to draw out words, speak spontaneously. Should you be satisfied with twenty thousand livers a year as a fixed income? But, Sire, said D'Artagnan, opening his eyes to the utmost. Would you be satisfied with four horses, furnished and kept, and with a supplement of funds such as you might require, according to occasions and needs, or would you prefer a fixed sum which would be, for example, forty thousand livers? Answer. Sire, your majesty. Yes, you are surprised. That is natural, and I expected it. Answer me. Come, or I shall think you have no longer the rapidity of judgment I have so much admired in you. It is certain, Sire, that twenty thousand livers a year makes a handsome sum. But... No buts. Yes or no. It is an honorable indemnity. Oh, very certainly. You will be satisfied with it. That is well. It will be better to reckon the extra expenses separately. You can arrange that with Covair. Now, let us pass to something more important. But, Sire, I told your majesty, that you wanted rest. I know you did. Only I replied that I would not allow it. I am master, I suppose. Yes, Sire. That is well. You were formerly in the way of becoming captain of the musketeers. Yes, Sire. Well, here is your commission signed. I place it in this drawer. The day on which you shall return from a certain expedition which I have to confide to you, on that day you may yourself take the commission from the drawer. D'Artagnan still hesitated, and hung down his head. Come, sir, said the king, one would believe to look at you, that you did not know that at the court of the most Christian king, the captain general of the musketeers takes precedence of the marishals of France. Sire, I know he does. Then am I to think you do put no faith in my word? Oh, Sire, never, never dream of such a thing. I have wished to prove to you that you, so good a servant, had lost a good master. Am I anything like the master that will suit you? I begin to think you are, Sire. Then, monsieur, you will resume your functions. Your company is quite disorganized since your departure, and the men go about drinking and rioting in the cabarets where they fight, in spite of my edicts, and those of my father. You will reorganize the service as soon as possible. Yes, Sire. You will not again quit my person. Very well, Sire. You will march with me to the army. You will encamp round my tent. Then, Sire, said D'Artagnan, if it is only to impose upon me a service like that, your majesty need not give me twenty thousand leave for a year. I shall not earn them. I desire that you shall keep open house. I desire that you should keep a liberal table. I desire that my captain of musketeers should be a personage. And I, said D'Artagnan bluntly, I do not like easily found money. I like money won. Your majesty gives me an idle trade which the first comer would perform for four thousand leave her. Louis XIV began to laugh. You are a true gaskon. Mr. D'Artagnan, you will draw my heart secret from me. Has your majesty a secret then? Yes, monsieur. Well, then I accept the twenty thousand leave her, for I will keep that secret and discretion is above all price in these times. Will your majesty speak now? Boot yourself, Mr. D'Artagnan, and to horse. Directly, Sire. Within two days. That is well, Sire, for I have my affairs to settle before I set out, particularly if it is likely there should be any blows, stirring. That may happen. We can receive them, but, Sire, you have addressed yourself to avarice, to ambition. You have addressed yourself to the heart of Mr. D'Artagnan, but you have forgotten one thing. What is that? You have said nothing to his vanity. When shall I be a knight of the knight's orders? Does that interest you? Why, yes, Sire, my friend Athos is quite covered with orders, and that dazzles me. You shall be a knight of my order a month after you have taken your commission of captain. Ha, ha, ha, said the officer thoughtfully, after the expedition. Precisely. Where is your majesty going to send me? Are you acquainted with Britannia? Have you any friends there? In Britannia? No, ma foie. So much the better. Do you know anything about fortifications? I believe I do, Sire. Said D'Artagnan, smiling. That is to say, you can readily distinguish a fortress from a simple fortification, such as is allowed to shatter lands or vassals. I distinguish a fork from a rampart, as I distinguish a cuirass from a raised pie crust, Sire. Is that sufficient? Yes, ma sure. You will set out then. For Britannia? Yes. Alone? Absolutely alone. That is to say, you must not even take a lackey with you. May I ask your majesty for what reason? Because, ma sure, it will be necessary to disguise yourself sometimes, as the servant of a good family. Your face is very well known in France, Mr. D'Artagnan. And then, Sire, and then you will travel slowly through Britannia, and will examine carefully the fortifications of that country. The coasts? Yes, and the isles, commencing by Belial-on-Mare. Ah, which belongs to Mr. Fouquet, said D'Artagnan in a serious tone, raising his intelligent eye to Louis XIV. I fancy you are right, monsieur, and that Belial does belong to Mr. Fouquet, in fact. Then your majesty wishes me to ascertain if Belial is a strong place? Yes. If the fortifications of it are new or old? Precisely. And if the vassals in the sure Fouquet are sufficiently numerous to form a garrison? That is what I want to know. You have placed your finger on the question. And if they are not fortifying, Sire? You will travel about Britannia listening and judging. Then I am a king's spy, said D'Artagnan bluntly, twisting his moustache. No, monsieur. You are pardoned, Sire. I spy on your majesty's account. You start on a voyage of discovery, monsieur. Would you march at the head of your musketeers with your sword in hand to observe any spot whatever or an enemy's position? At this word, D'Artagnan started. Do you, continued the king, imagine yourself to be a spy? No. No, said D'Artagnan, but pensively. The thing changes its face when one observes an enemy. One is but a soldier, and if they are fortifying Belial, added he quickly. You will take an exact plan of the fortifications. Will they permit me to enter? That does not concern me. That is your affair. Did you not understand that I reserved for you a supplement of twenty thousand lever per annum if you wished it? Yes, Sire, but if they are not fortifying... You will return quietly without fatiguing your horse. Sire, I am ready. You will begin tomorrow by going to Monsieur le Surintendance to take the first quarter of the pension I give you. Do you know, monsieur Fouquet? Very little, Sire, but I beg your majesty to observe that I don't think it immediately necessary that I should know him. Your pardon, monsieur, for he will refuse you the money I wish you to take, and it is that refusal I look for. Ah, said D'Artagnan. Then, Sire, the money being refused, you will go and seek it at Monsieur Colbert's at Propos. Have you a good horse? An excellent one, Sire. How much did it cost you? One hundred and fifty pistoles. I will buy it of you. Here is a note for two hundred pistoles. But I won my horse for my journey, Sire. Well? Well, and you take mine from me. Not at all. On the contrary, I give it to you. Only as it is now mine and not yours, I am sure you will not spare it. Your majesty is in a hurry, then. A great hurry. Then what compels me to wait two days? Reasons known to myself. That's a different affair. The horse may make up the two days in the ADS to travel, then there is the post. No, no. The post compromises Monsieur D'Artagnan. Be gone and do not forget. You are my servant. Sire, it is not my duty to forget it. At what hour tomorrow shall I take my leave of your majesty? Where do you lodge? I must henceforward lodge at the Louvre. That must not be now. Keep your lodgings in the city. I will pay for them. As to your departure, it must take place at night. You must sit out without being seen by anyone, or, if you are seen, it must not be known that you belong to me. Keep your mouth shut, Monsieur. Your majesty spoils all you have said by that single word. I asked you where you have lodged, for I cannot always send to Monsieur Lecombe de Le Faire to seek you. I lodge with Monsieur Planchet, a grocer. Rudil and Bard at the sign of the peon d'or. Go out but little, show yourself less, and await my orders. And yet, Sire, I must go for the money. That is true, but when going to the superintendents, where so many people are constantly going, you must mingle with the crowd. I want the notes, Sire, for the money. Here they are. The king signed them, and D'Artagnan looked on to assure himself of their regularity. Adieu, Monsieur D'Artagnan, added the king. I think you have perfectly understood me. I—I understand that your majesty sends me to Belialon Mare. That is all. To learn? To learn how Monsieur Fouquet's works are going on. That is all. Very well. I admit you may be taken. And I do not admit it, replied the Gascon boldly. I admit you may be killed, continued the king. That is not probable, Sire. In the first case, you must not speak. In the second, there must be no papers found upon you. D'Artagnan shrugged his shoulders without ceremony, and took leave of the king, saying to himself, The English shower continues. Let us remain under the spout.