 35 The Last Supper. The superintendent had no doubt received advice of the approaching departure, for he was giving a farewell dinner to his friends. From the bottom to the top of the house, the hurry of the servants bearing dishes, and the diligence of the Registe, denoted an approaching change in offices and kitchen. Tartanian, with his order in his hand, presented himself at the offices. When he was told it was too late to pay cash, the chest was closed. He only replied, On the king's service. The clerk, a little put out by the serious air of the captain, replied that, that was a very respectable reason, but that the customs of the house were respectable likewise, and that in consequence he begged the bearer to call again next day. Tartanian asked if he could not see Monsieur Fouquet. The clerk replied that Monsieur Le Sur intended did not interfere with such details, and rudely closed the outer door in the captain's face. But the latter had foreseen this stroke, and placed his boot between the door and the door-case, so that the lock did not catch, and the clerk was still nose to nose with his interlocutor. This made him change his tone and say, with terrified politeness, If Monsieur wishes to speak to Monsieur Le Sur intended, he must go to the antechambers. These are the offices where Monsignor never comes. Oh, very well, where are they? replied Tartanian. On the other side of the court, said the clerk, delighted to be free, Tartanian crossed the court and fell in with a crowd of servants. Monsignor sees nobody at this hour. He was answered by a fellow-carrying-a-vermé dish, in which were three pheasants and twelve quails. Tell him, said the captain, laying hold of the servant by the end of his dish, that I am Monsieur Tartanian, captain of his majesty's musketeers. The fellow uttered a cry of surprise, and disappeared, Tartanian following him slowly. He arrived just in time to meet Monsieur Pélican in the antechamber. The latter, a little pale, came hastily out of the dining-room to learn what was the matter. Tartanian smiled. There is nothing unpleasant, Monsieur Pélican, only a little order to receive the money for. Ah! said Fouquet's friend, breathing more freely, and he took the captain by the hand, and dragging him behind him led him into the dining-room, where a number of friends surrounded the sir-intendent, placed in the centre, and buried in the cushions of a foc-toia. There were assembled all the Epicurians who so lately at Vaux had done the honours of the mansion, of wit and money, in aid of Monsieur Fouquet. His friends, for the most part faithful, they had not fled their protector at the approach of the storm, and in spite of the threatening heavens, in spite of the trembling earth, they remained there, smiling, cheerful, as devoted in misfortune as they had been in prosperity. On the left of the sir-intendent sat Madame de Belière. On his right was Madame Fouquet, as if braving the laws of the world, and putting all vulgar reasons of propriety to silence, the two protecting angels of this man united to offer, at the moment of the crisis, the support of their twined arms. Madame de Belière was pale, trembling, and full of respectful attentions for Madame de Sirintendent, who, with one hand on her husbands, was looking anxiously towards the door by which Pellissant had gone out to bring d'Artagnan. The captain entered it first full of courtesy, and afterwards of admiration, when, with his infallible glance, he had divined as well as taken in the expression of every face. Fouquet raised himself up in his chair. "'Bardame, Monsieur d'Artagnan,' said he, "'if I did not myself receive you when coming in the king's name.' And he pronounced the last words with a sort of melancholy firmness, which filled the hearts of all his friends with terror. "'Monsignor,' replied d'Artagnan, "'I only come to you in the king's name to demand payment of an order for two hundred pistoles.' The clouds passed from every brow but that of Fouquet, which still remained overcast. "'Ah, then,' said he, "'perhaps you also are setting out for nuts?' "'I do not know whither I am setting out, Monsignor.' "'But,' said Madame Fouquet, recovered from her fright, "'you are not going so soon, Monsieur le Capitain, as not to do us the honour to take a seat with us?' "'Madame, I should esteem that a great honour done me, but I am so pressed for time, that you see, I have been obliged to permit myself to interrupt your repast to procurant payment of my note.' "'The reply to which shall be gold,' said Fouquet, making a sign to his intended, who went out with the order d'Artagnan handed him. "'Oh,' said the latter, "'I was not uneasy about the payment. The house is good.' A painful smile passed over the pale features of Fouquet. "'Are you in pain?' asked Madame de Belière. "'Do you feel your attack coming on?' asked Madame Fouquet. "'Neither. Thank you both,' said Fouquet. "'Your attack?' said d'Artagnan in his turn. "'Are you unwell, Monsignor?' "'I have a tertian fever, which sees me after the fete, it vaux.' Caught cold in the grottoes at night, perhaps?' "'No, no, nothing but agitation. That was all.' "'The too much heart you displayed in your reception of the king,' said Lafontaine quietly, without suspicion that he was uttering a sacrilege.' "'We cannot devote too much heart to the reception of our king,' said Fouquet mildly to his poet. "'Monsieur meant to say the too great ardour,' interrupted d'Artagnan, with perfect frankness and much amenity. The fact is, Monsignor, that hospitality was never practised as at vaux.' Madame Fouquet permitted her countenance to show clearly that if Fouquet had conducted himself well towards the king, the king had hardly done the like to the minister. But d'Artagnan knew the terrible secret. He alone with Fouquet knew it. These two men had not, the one the courage to complain, the other the right to accuse. The captain, to whom the two hundred pistolis were brought, was about to take his leave, when Fouquet, rising, took a glass of wine and ordered one to be given to d'Artagnan. "'Monsieur,' said he, "'to the health of the king, whatever may happen.' "'And to your health, Monsignor, whatever may happen,' said d'Artagnan. He bowed with these words of evil omen to all the company, who rose as soon as they heard the sound of his spurs and boots at the bottom of the stairs. "'I, for a moment, thought it was I, and not my money he wanted,' said Fouquet, endeavouring to laugh. "'You!' cried his friends. "'And what for, in the name of heaven?' "'Oh, do not deceive yourselves, my dear brothers and epicurus,' said the superintendent. "'I do not wish to make a comparison between the most humble sinner on the earth and the God we adore, but, remember, he gave one day to his friends a repast which is called the last supper, and which was nothing but a farewell dinner, like that which we are making at this moment.' "'A painful cry of denial arose from all parts of the table.' "'Shut the doors,' said Fouquet, and the servants disappeared. "'My friends,' continued Fouquet, lowering his voice, "'what was I formerly? What am I now?' "'Consult among yourselves and reply. "'A man like me sinks when he does not continue to rise. "'What shall we say, then, when he really sinks?' "'I have no more money, no more credit. "'I have no longer anything but powerful enemies and powerless friends.' "'Quick!' cried Pellissant. "'Since you explain yourself with such frankness, "'it is our duty to be frank likewise. "'Yes, you are ruined. "'Yes, you are hastening to your ruin. "'Stop. "'And in the first place, what money have we left?' "'700,000 lever,' said the Intendant. "'Bread,' murmured Madame Fouquet. "'Relays,' said Pellissant, "'relays and fly. "'Whither?' "'To Switzerland, to Savoy, but fly.' "'If Monsignor flies,' said Madame Belieur, "'it would be said that he was guilty, was afraid. "'More than that, it would be said that I have carried away twenty millions with me.' "'We will draw up memoirs to justify you,' said Lafontaine. "'Fly!' "'I will remain,' said Fouquet. "'And besides, does not everything serve me?' "'You have belille,' cried the abbey Fouquet. "'And I am naturally going there, when going to Nantes,' replied the superintendent. "'Patience, then, patience.' "'Before arriving at Nantes, what a distance,' said Madame Fouquet. "'Yes, I know that well,' replied Fouquet. "'But what is to be done there? "'The king summons me to the States. "'I know well it is for the purpose of ruining me, "'but to refuse to go would be to events uneasiness.' "'Well, I have discovered the means of reconciling everything,' cried Pellissant. "'You are going to set out for Nantes.' Fouquet looked at him with an air of surprise. "'But with friends, but in your own carriage, as far as au Lyon, "'in your own barge, as far as Nantes, "'always ready to defend yourself if you are attacked, "'to escape if you are threatened. "'In fact, you will carry your money against all chances, "'and, whilst flying, you will only have obeyed the king. "'Then, reaching the sea, when you like, "'you will embark for Belial, and from Belial you will shoot out "'wherever it may please you, like the eagle that leaps into space "'when it has been driven from its eerie.' A general assent followed Pellissant's words. "'Yes, do so,' said Madame Fouquet to her husband. "'Do so,' said Madame de Belière. "'Do it, do it,' cried all his friends. "'I will do so,' replied Fouquet. "'This very evening? "'In an hour?' "'Instantly.' "'With seven hundred thousand lever you can lay the foundation "'of another fortune,' said the abe Fouquet. "'What is there to prevent our arming corsairs at Belial?' "'And, if necessary, we will go and discover a new world,' added La Fontaine, intoxicated with fresh projects and enthusiasm. A knock at the door interrupted this concert of joy and hope. "'A courier from the king,' said the master of ceremonies. A profound silence immediately ensued, as if the message brought by this courier were nothing but a reply to all the projects given birth to a moment before. Everyone waited to see what the master would do. His brow was streaming with perspiration, and he was really suffering from his fever at that instant. He passed into his cabinet to receive the king's message. There profailed, as we have said, such a silence in the chambers, and throughout the attendance, that from the dining-room could be heard the voice of Fouquet saying, "'That is well, monsieur.' This voice was, however, broken by fatigue and trembled with emotion. An instant after, Fouquet called Gourvier, who crossed the gallery amidst the universal expectation. At length he himself reappeared among his guests, but it was no longer the same pale, spiritless countenance they had beheld when he had left them. From pale he had become livid, and from spiritless annihilated. A breathing, living specter he advanced with his arms stretched out, his mouth parched like a shade that comes to salute the friends of former days. On seeing him thus, everyone cried out, and everyone rushed towards Fouquet. The latter, looking at Pellissant, leaned upon his wife, and pressed the icy hand of the marquise de Belière. "'Well,' said he, in a voice which had nothing human in it. "'What has happened, my God!' said someone to him.' Fouquet opened his right hand, which was clenched, but glistening with perspiration, and displayed a paper upon which Pellissant cast a terrified glance. He read the following lines, written by the king's hand. "'Dear and well-beloved Mr. Fouquet, give us, upon that which you have left of ours, the sum of seven hundred thousand lever of which we stand in need to prepare for our departure. And as we know your health is not good, we pray God to restore you and to have you in his holy keeping.' The present letter is to serve as a receipt. A murmur of terror circulated through the apartment. "'Well,' cried Pellissant, in his turn, "'you have received that letter?' "'Received it, yes.' "'What will you do then?' "'Nothing, since I have received it. "'But if I have received it, Pellissant, I have paid it,' said the sir-intendant, with a simplicity that went to the heart of all present. "'You have paid it,' cried Madame Fouquet. "'Then we are ruined!' "'Come, no useless words,' interrupted Pellissant, next to money, life. Monsignor, to horse, to horse!' "'What, leave us!' At once cried both the women, wild with grief. "'Eh? Monsignor, in saving yourself, you save us all, to horse!' "'But he cannot hold himself on. Look at him!' "'Oh, if he takes time to reflect,' said the intrepid Pellissant. "'He is right,' murmured Fouquet. "'Monsignor, Monsignor!' cried Gourvy, rushing up the stairs, four steps at once. "'Monsignor!' "'Well, what?' "'I escorted, as you desired, the king's courier, with the money.' "'Yes?' "'Well, when I arrived at the Palais Royale, I saw—' "'Take breath, my poor friend. Take breath, you are suffocating.' "'What did you see?' cried the impatient friends. "'I saw the musketeers mounting on horseback,' said Gourvy. "'There, then,' cried every voice at once, "'There, then, is there an instant to be lost?' Madame Fouquet rushed downstairs, calling for her horses. Madame de Belière flew after her, catching her in her arms, and saying, "'Madame, in the name of his safety, do not betray anything! Do not manifest alarm!' Pellissant ran to have the horses put to the carriages, and in the meantime Gourvy gathered in his hat all that the weeping friends were able to throw into it of gold and silver. The last offering, the pious alms made to misery by poverty. The serentendent, dragged along by some, carried by others, was shot up in his carriage. Gourvy took the reins and mounted the box. Pellissant supported Madame Fouquet, who had fainted. Madame de Belière had more strength and was well paid for it. She received Fouquet's last kiss. Pellissant easily explained this precipitant departure by saying that an order from the king had summoned the minister to not. End of chapter. CHAPTER XXXVI. As Gourvy had seen, the king's musketeers were mounting and following their captain. The latter, who did not like to be confined in his proceedings, left his brigade under the orders of lieutenant and set off on post-horses, recommending his men to use all diligence. However rapidly they might travel, they could not arrive before him. He had time, in passing along the rue de Petitchamp, to see something which afforded him plenty of food for thought and conjecture. He saw Monsieur Colbert coming out from his house to get into his carriage, which was stationed before the door. In this carriage D'Artagnan perceived the hoods of two women, and, being rather curious, he wished to know the names of the ladies hid beneath these hoods. To get a glimpse at them, for they kept themselves closely covered up, he urged his horse so near the carriage that he drove him against the steppe with such force as to shake everything containing and contained. The terrified women uttered the one of faint cry, by which D'Artagnan recognized a young woman, the other an implication in which he recognized the vigor and a plum that half a century bestows. The hoods were thrown back. One of the women was Madame Vanell, the other the Duchesse de Chevreuse. D'Artagnan's eyes were quicker than those of the ladies. He had seen and known them, whilst they did not recognize him. And as they laughed at their fright, pressing each other's hands. "'Fuf,' said D'Artagnan, the old Duchesse is no more inaccessible to friendship than formerly. She paying her court to the mistress of Monsieur Colbert. Poor Monsieur Fouquet! That presages you nothing good!' He rode on. Monsieur Colbert got into his carriage, and the distinguished trio commenced a sufficiently slow pilgrimage toward the wood of Vincennes. Madame de Chevreuse set down Madame Vanell at her husband's house, and, left alone with Monsieur Colbert, chatted upon affairs while continuing her ride. She had an inexhaustible fund of conversation, that dear Duchesse, and as she always talked for the ill of others, though ever with a view to her own good, her conversation amused her interlocutor, and did not fail to leave a favorable impression. She taught Colbert, who, poor man, was ignorant of the fact, how great a minister he was, and how Fouquet would soon become a cipher. She promised to rally around him, when he should become surintended, all the old nobility of the kingdom, and question him as to the preponderance it would be proper to allow Lavalier. She praised him, she blamed him, she bewildered him. She showed him the secret of so many secrets, that for a moment Colbert thought he was doing business with the devil. She proved to him that she held in her hand the Colbert of today, as she had held the Fouquet of yesterday, and as he asked her very simply the reason of her hatred for the surintended. Why do you yourself hate him? said she. Madame in politics, replied he, the differences of system oft bring about dissensions between men. Monsieur Fouquet always appeared to me to practice his system opposed to the true interests of the king. She interrupted him. I will say no more to you about Monsieur Fouquet. The journey the king is about to take to Nantes will give a good account of him. Monsieur Fouquet, for me, is a man gone by, and for you also. Colbert made no reply. On his return from Nantes, continued the Duchess, the king who is only anxious for a pretext, will find the states have not behaved well, that they have made too few sacrifices. The states will say that the imposts are too heavy, and that the surintended has ruined them. The king will lay all the blame on Monsieur Fouquet, and then. And then, said Colbert, oh, he will be disgraced. Is not that your opinion? Colbert darted a glance at the Duchess, which plainly said, that Monsieur Fouquet be only disgraced, you will not be the cause of it. Your place, Monsieur Colbert, the Duchess hastened to add, must be a high place. Do you perceive any one between the king and yourself, after the fall of Monsieur Fouquet? I do not understand, said he. You will understand. To what does your ambition aspire? I have none. It was useless, then, to overthrow the superintendent, Monsieur Colbert. It was idle. I had the honor to tell you, madame. Oh, yes, I know, all about the interest of the king. But if you please, we will speak of your own. Mine, that is to say, the affairs of his majesty. In short, are you not endeavouring to ruin Monsieur Fouquet? Answer without evasion. Madame, I ruin nobody. I am endeavouring to comprehend, then, why you purchased from me the letters of Monsieur Mazarin concerning Monsieur Fouquet. Neither can I conceive why you have laid those letters before the king. Colbert, half stupefied, looked at the duchess with an air of constraint. Madame, said he, I can less easily conceive how you, who receive the money, can reproach me on that head. That is, said the old duchess, because we must will that which we wish for, unless we are not able to obtain what we wish. Still, said Colbert, quite confounded by such coarse logic. You are not able, Hine, speak. I am not able, I allow, to destroy certain influences near the king. That fight in favour of Monsieur Fouquet, what are they? Stop, let me help you. Still, Madame, la valière, oh, very little influence, no knowledge of business and small means. Monsieur Fouquet has paid his court to her. To defend him would be to accuse herself, would it not? I think it would. There is still another influence. What do you say to that? Is it considerable? The Queen Mother, perhaps. Her Majesty the Queen Mother has a weakness for Monsieur Fouquet, very prejudicial to her son. Never believe that, said the old duchess, smiling. Oh, said Colbert, within credulity, I have often experienced it. Formerly. Very recently, Madame, à vos, it was she who prevented the king from having Monsieur Fouquet arrested. People do not forever entertain the same opinions, my dear Monsieur. That which the Queen may have wished recently, she would not wish, perhaps, today. And why not? said Colbert, astonished. Oh, the reason is of very little consequence. On the contrary, I think it is of great consequence, for, if I was certain of not displeasing her Majesty, the Queen Mother, my scruples would be all removed. Well, have you never heard talk of a certain secret? A secret? Call it what you like. In short, the Queen Mother has conceived a bitter hatred for all those who have participated in one fashion or another in the discovery of this secret, and Monsieur Fouquet I believe is one of these. Then, said Colbert, we may be sure of the assent of the Queen Mother. I have just left her Majesty, and she assures me so. So be it then, Madame. But there is something further. Do you happen to know a man who was the intimate friend of Monsieur Fouquet, Monsieur de Blay, a bishop, I believe? Bishop of Vann. Well, this Monsieur de Blay, who also knew the secret, the Queen Mother is pursuing with the utmost rancor. Indeed! So hotly pursued that if he were dead, she would not be satisfied with anything less than his head. To satisfy her, he would never speak again. And is that the desire of the Queen Mother? An order is given for it. This Monsieur de Blay shall be sought for, Madame. Oh, it is well known where he is. Colbert looked at the duchess. Say where, Madame? He is at Belly-Lomere. At the residence of Monsieur Fouquet? He shall be taken! It was now the duchess's turn to smile. Do not fancy the capture so easy, said she. Do not promise it so lightly. Why not, Madame? Because Monsieur de Blay is not one of those people who can be taken when and where you please. He is a rebel then. Oh, Monsieur Colbert! We have passed all our lives in making rebels, and yet you see plainly that so far from being taken, we take others. Colbert fixed upon the old duchess one of those fierce looks of which no words can convey the expression, accompanied by a firmness not altogether wanting in grandeur. The times are gone, said he, in which subjects gain duchies by making them. If Monsieur de Blay conspires, he will perish on the scaffold. That will give or will not give pleasure to his enemies, a matter by the way of little importance to us. And this us, a strange word in the mouth of Colbert, made the duchess thoughtful for a moment. She caught herself reckoning inwardly with this man. Colbert had regained his superiority in the conversation, and he meant to keep it. You ask me, Madame? He said, to have this Monsieur de Blay arrested? I. I asked nothing of the kind. I thought you did, Madame. But as I have been mistaken, we will leave him alone. The king has said nothing about him. The duchess bit her nails. Besides, continued Colbert, what the poor capture would this bishop be? A bishop game for a king? Oh, no, no. I will not even take the slightest notice of him. The hatred of the duchess now discovered itself. Game for a woman, said she, is not the queen a woman? If she wishes Monsieur de Blay arrested, she has reasons. Besides, is not Monsieur de Blay the friend of him who is doomed to fall? Oh, never mind that, said Colbert. This man shall be spared if he is not the enemy of the king. Is that displeasing to you? I say nothing. Yes. You wish to see him in prison. In the Bastille, for instance. I believe a secret better concealed behind the walls of the Bastille than behind those of Belis. I will speak to the king about it. He will clear up the point. And whilst waiting for that enlightenment, Monsieur le Vecteur van will have escaped. I would do so. Escaped, he? And whether should he escape? Europe is ours in will, if not in fact. He will always find an asylum, Monsieur. It is evident you know nothing of the man you have to do with. You do not know de Blay. You do not know Aramis. He was one of those four musketeers who, under the late king, made Cardinal de Richelieu tremble, and who during the regency gave so much trouble to Monsignor Mazara. But madame, what can he do unless he has a kingdom to back him? He has one, Monsieur. A kingdom? He? What? Monsieur de Blay? I repeat to you, Monsieur, that if he wants a kingdom, he either has it or will have it. Well, as you are so earnest that this rebel should not escape, madame, I promise you he shall not escape. Berliel is fortified, Monsieur Colbert, and fortified by him. If Berliel were also defended by him, Berliel is not impregnable, and if Monsieur le Vecteur van is shot up in Berliel, well, madame, he shall not escape. If Monsieur le Vecteur van is shot up in Berliel, well, madame, the place shall be besieged, and he will be taken. You may be very certain, Monsieur, that the zeal you display in the interest of the queen mother will please her majesty mightily, and you will be magnificently rewarded. But what shall I tell her of your projects respecting this man? That when once taken he shall be shot up in a fortress from which her secret shall never escape. Very well, Monsieur Colbert, and we may say that, dating from this instant, we have formed a solid alliance, that is, you and I, and that I am absolutely at your service. In his eye, madame, who placed myself at yours, this Chevalier de Blay is a kind of Spanish spy, is he not? Much more. A secret ambassador? Higher still. Stop! King Philip III of Spain is a bigot. He is perhaps the confessor of Philip III. You must go higher, even than that. Morty her! cried Colbert, who forgot himself so far as to swear in the presence of this great lady, of this old friend of the queen mother. He must then be the general of the Jesuits. I believe you have guessed it at last, replied the Duchess. Ah, then madame, this man will ruin us all if we do not ruin him, and we must make haste, too. Such was my opinion, Monsieur, but I did not dare to give it you. And it was lucky for us he has attacked the throne, and not us. But, mark this will, Monsieur Colbert. Monsieur de Blay is never discouraged. If he has missed one blow, he will be sure to make another. He will begin again. If he has allowed an opportunity to escape, of making a king for himself, sooner or later, he will make another, of whom to a certainty you will not be prime minister. Colbert knitted his brow with a menacing expression. I feel assured that a prison will settle this affair for us, madame, in a matter satisfactory for both. The Duchess smiled again. Oh, if you knew, said she, how many times Hermes has got out of prison! Oh, replied Colbert, we will take care that he shall not get out this time. But you were not attending to what I said to you just now. Do you remember that Hermes was one of the four invincibles whom Richelieu so dreaded, and at that period the four musketeers were not in possession of that which they have now, money and experience? Colbert bit his lips. We will now renounce the idea of the prison, said he in a lower tone. We will find a little retreat from which the invincible cannot possibly escape. That was well spoken, our ally, replied the Duchess. But it is getting late, had we not better return. The more willingly, madame, for my having my preparations to make for setting out with the king. To Paris! cried the Duchess to the coachman. And the carriage returned towards the faux-borgs Saint-Antoine, after the conclusion of the treaty that gave to death the last friend of Fouquet, the last defender of Berlile, the former friend of Marie Michon, the new foe of the old Duchess. CHAPTER 37 OF SIMSONVILLE SOUTH CAROLINA THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK BY ALEXANDER DUMAS CHAPTER 37 THE TWO LIGHTERS D'Artagnan had set off, Fouquet likewise was gone, and with a rapidity which doubled the tender interests of his friends. The first moments of this journey, or better say, this flight, were troubled by a ceaseless dread of every horse and carriage to be seen behind the fugitive. It was not natural, in fact, if Louis XIV was determined to seize this prey, that he should allow it to escape. The young lion was already accustomed to the chase, and he had bloodhounds sufficiently clever to be trusted. But insensibly all fears were dispersed. The sur-intendant, by hard travelling, placed such a distance between himself and his persecutors that no one of them could reasonably be expected to overtake him. As to his position, his friends had made it excellent for him. Was he not travelling to join the king at Nantes, and what did the rapidity prove but his zeal to obey? He arrived, fatigued but reassured, at Orléans, where he found thanks to the care of a courier who had preceded him a handsome lighter of eight oars. These lighters, in the shape of gondolas, somewhat wide and heavy, containing a small chamber covered by the deck and a chamber in the poop formed by a tent, then acted as passage boats from Orléans to Nantes by the Loire, and this passage, a long one in our days, appeared then more easy and convenient than the high road with its post-hacks and its ill-hung carriages. Phuket went on board this lighter which set out immediately. The rowers, knowing they had the honour of conveying the sur-intendant of the finances, pulled with all their strength, and that magic word, the finances, promised them a liberal gratification of which they wished to prove themselves worthy. The lighter seemed to leap the waves of the Loire. Magnificent weather, a sunrise that, in purple to all the landscape, displayed the river in all its limpid serenity. The current and the rowers carried Phuket along as wings carry a bird, and he arrived before Beau-Jean-si without the slightest accident having signalized the voyage. Phuket hoped to be the first to arrive at Nantes. There he would see the notables and gain support among the principal members of the states. They would make himself a necessity, a thing very easy for a man of his merit, and would delay the catastrophe if he did not succeed in avoiding it entirely. Besides, so groovy it to him, at naught you will make out, or we will make out, the intentions of your enemies. We will have horses always ready to convey you to Poitot, a bark in which to gain the sea, and when once upon the open sea, Belle-Île is your inviolable port. You see, besides, that no one is watching you, no one is following. He had scarcely finished when they discovered, at a distance, behind an elbow formed by the river, the mast of a huge lighter coming down. The rowers of Phuket's boat uttered a cry of surprise on seeing this galley. What is the matter? asked Phuket. The matter is, Monsignor," replied the patron of the bark, that it is a truly remarkable thing. That lighter comes along like a hurricane. Gourvier started and mounted to the deck in order to obtain a better view. Phuket did not go up with him, but said to Gourvier, with restrained mistrust, See what it is, dear friend! The lighter had just passed the elbow. Phuket came on so fast that behind it might be plainly seen the white-wake illumined with the fires of the day. How they go! repeated the skipper. How they go! they must be well-paid. I do not think," he added, that oars of wood could behave better than ours, but yonder oarsmen prove the contrary. Well, they may, said one of the rowers. They are twelve, and we but eight. Twelve rowers," replied Gourvier. Twelve? Impossible! The number of eight rowers for a lighter had never been exceeded even for the king. This honour had been paid to Monsieur Le Sur intended more for the sake of haste than of respect. What does it mean, said Gourvier? Endeavouring to distinguish beneath the tent, which was already apparent, travellers which the most piercing eye could not yet have succeeded in discovering. They must be in a hurry, for it is not the king, said the patron. Phuket shuddered. By what sign do you know that it is not the king? said Gourvier. End the first place, because there is no white flag with fleur de lis, which the royal lighter always carries. And then, said Phuket, because it is impossible it should be the king, Gourvier, as the king was still in Paris yesterday. Gourvier replied to the Sur intended by a look which said, You were there yourself yesterday. And by what sign do you make out they are in such haste? added he for the sake of gaining time. By this Monsieur, said the patron. These people must have set out a long while after us, and they have already nearly overtaken us. Bah, said Gourvier, who told you that they do not come from Beaujancy, or from moi, even? We have seen no lighter of that shape except at Orléans. It comes from Orléans, Monsieur, and makes great haste. Phuket and Gourvier exchanged a glance. The captain remarked their uneasiness and, to mislead him, Gourvier immediately said, Some friend, who was later wager, he would catch us. Let us win the wager, and not allow him to come up with us. The patron opened his mouth to say that it was quite impossible, but Phuket said with much houture, If it is anyone who wishes to overtake us, let him come. We can try, Monsignor, said the man tibidly. Come, you fellows, put out your strength. Row, row! No, said Phuket. On the contrary, stop short. Monsignor, what folly! Interrupted Gourvier, stooping towards his ear. Pull up, repeated Phuket. The eight oars stopped and, resisting the water, created a retrograde motion. It stopped. The twelve rowers and the other did not at first perceive this maneuver, for they continued to urge on their boat so vigorously that it arrived quickly within musket-shot. Phuket was short-sighted. Gourvier was annoyed by the sun, now full in his eyes. The skipper alone, with that habit and clearness which are acquired by a constant struggle with the elements, perceived distinctly the travellers and the neighbouring lighter. I can see them! cried he. There are two! I can see nothing, said Gourvier. You will not be long before you distinguish them. In twenty strokes of their oars they will be within ten paces of us. But what the patron announced was not realised. The lighter imitated the movement commanded by Phuket, and instead of coming to join its pretended friends, it stopped short in the middle of the river. I cannot comprehend this, said the captain. Nor I! cried Gourvier. You who can see so plainly the people in that lighter, resumed Phuket, try to describe them to us before we are too far off. I thought I saw two, replied the boatman. I can only see one now, under the tent. What sort of man is he? He is a dark man, broad-shouldered, bull-necked. A little cloud at that moment passed across the azure, darkening the sun. Gourvier, who was still looking with one hand over his eyes, became able to see what he sought, and all at once jumping from the deck into the chamber where Phuket awaited him. Colbert! said he, in a voice broken by emotion. Colbert! repeated Phuket. Too strange! But no! it is impossible! I tell you I recognized him, and he, at the same time, so plainly recognized me that he has just gone into the chamber on the poop. Perhaps the king has sent him on our track. In that case he would join us, instead of lying by. What is he doing there? He is watching us without a doubt. I do not like uncertainty, said Phuket. Let us go straight up to him. Monsignor, do not do that. The lighter is full of armed men. He wishes to arrest me then, Gourvier? Why does he not come on? Monsignor, it is not consistent with your dignity to go over to meet even your ruin. But to allow them to watch me like a malifactor! Nothing yet proves that they are watching you, Monsignor. Be patient. What is to be done then? Do not stop. You are only going so fast to appear to obey the king's order with zeal. Redouble the speed. He who lives will see. That is better! Come! cried Phuket. Since they remain stock still yonder, let us go on. The captain gave the signal, and Phuket's rowers resumed their task with all the success that could be looked for from men who had rested. Scarcely had the lighter made a hundred fathoms, than the other, that with the twelve rowers, resumed its rapid course. This position lasted all day, without any increase or diminution of distance between the two vessels. Towards evening Phuket wished to try the intentions of his persecutor. He ordered his rowers to pull towards the shore, as if to effect a landing. Colbert's lighter imitated this maneuver and steered towards the shore in a slanting direction. By the nearest chance, at the spot where Phuket pretended to wish to land, a stableman from the Chateau of Longier was following the flowery banks leading three horses in halters. Without doubt the people of the twelve-word lighter fancied that Phuket was directing his course to these horses ready for flight. For four or five men armed with muskets jumped from the lighter on to the shore and marched along the banks, as if to gain ground on the horsemen. Phuket, satisfied of having forced the enemy to a demonstration, considered his intention evident and put his boat in motion again. Colbert's people returned likewise to theirs, and the course of the two vessels was resumed with fresh perseverance. Upon seeing this, Phuket felt himself threatened closely, and in a prophetic voice, "'Well, Gervis,' said he, whisperingly, "'What did I say at our last repast at my house? Am I going or not to my ruin?' "'Oh, Monsignor!' "'These two boats which follow each other with so much emulation, "'as if we were disputing, Mr. Colbert and I, a prize for swiftness on the Loire. "'Do they not aptly represent our fortunes? "'And do you not believe, Gervis, that one of the two will be wrecked at nons?' "'At least,' objected Gervis, "'There is still uncertainty. You are about to appear at the States. "'You are about to show what sort of man you are. "'Your eloquence and genius for business are the buckler and sword that will serve to defend you, "'if not to conquer with. "'The Bretons do not know you. "'And when they become acquainted with you, your cause is one.' "'Oh, let Mr. Colbert look to it well, "'for his lighter is as much exposed as yours to being upset. "'Both go quickly. His faster than yours, it is true. "'We shall see which will be wrecked first.'" Phuket, taking Gervis' hand. "'My friend,' said he, "'everything considered. Remember the proverb. First come, first served. "'Well, Mr. Colbert cares not to pass me. "'He is a prudent man, is Mr. Colbert.'" He was right. The two lighters held their course as far as not, watching each other. When the Surintendant landed, Gervis hoped he should be able to seek refuge at once, and have the relays prepared. But at the landing the second-lighter joined the first, and Colbert, approaching Phuket, saluted him on the quay with, "'Marks of the profoundest respect. "'Marks so significant, so public, "'that their result was the bringing of the whole population upon Lafoss.'" Phuket was completely self-possessed. He felt that in his last moments of greatness he had obligations toward himself. He wished to fall from such a height that his fall should crush some of his enemies. Colbert was there, so much the worse for Colbert. The Surintendant therefore, coming up to him, replied, with that arrogant semi-closure of the eyes peculiar to him, "'What? Is that you, Mr. Colbert?' "'To offer you my respects, Monsignor,' said the latter. "'Weren't you in that lighter?' Pointing to the one with twelve rowers. "'Yes, Monsignor.' "'Of twelve rowers?' said Phuket. "'What luxury, Mr. Colbert! "'For a moment I thought it was the Queen Mother!' "'Monsignor!' and Colbert blushed. "'This is a voyage that will cost those who have to pay for it, dear Miss Surintendant,' said Phuket. "'But you have happily arrived. "'You see, however,' added he a moment after, "'that I, who had but eight rowers, arrived before you.' And he turned his back towards him, leaving him uncertain whether the maneuvers of the second lighter had escaped the notice of the first. At least he did not give him the satisfaction of showing that he had been frightened. Colbert, so annoyingly attacked, did not give way. "'I have not been quick, Monsignor, "'because I followed your example whenever you stopped.' "'And why did you do that, Monsieur Colbert?' cried Phuket, irritated by the base audacity. "'As you had a superior crew to mine, "'did you not either join me or pass me?' "'Out of respect,' said the Intendant, bowing to the ground. Phuket got into a carriage which the city had sent to him. We know not why or how. And he repaired to La Maison de Nantes, escorted by a vast crowd of people, who for several days had been agog with expectation of a convocation of the States. Scarcely was he installed when Gourvier went out to order horses on the route to Poitiers and Vannes, and a boat at Paimbouf. He performed these various operations with so much mystery, activity, and generosity, that never was Phuket, then laboring under an attack of fever, more nearly saved, except for the counteraction of that immense disturber of human projects, chance. A report was spread during the night that the king was coming in great haste on post-horses and would arrive in ten or twelve hours at the latest. The people, while waiting for the king, were greatly rejoiced to see the musketeers newly arrived with Monsieur D'Artagnan, their captain, and quartered in the castle of which they occupied all the posts in quality of guard of honour. Monsieur D'Artagnan, who was very polite, presented himself about ten o'clock at the lodgings of the serintended to pay his respectful compliments. And although the minister suffered from fever, although he was in such pain as to be bathed in sweat, he would receive Monsieur D'Artagnan, who was delighted with that honour, as will be seen by the conversation they had together. Dark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. The Man in the Iron Mask by Alexander Dumas Chapter 38 Friendly Advice Phuket had gone to bed, like a man who clings to life and wishes to economise, as much as possible, that slender tissue of existence, of which the shocks and frictions of this world so quickly wear out the tenuity. D'Artagnan appeared at the door of this chamber and was saluted by this superintendent with a very affable, Good day! Bonjour, Monsignor! replied the musketeer. How did you get through the journey? Tolerably well, thank you. And the fever? But poorly. I drink as you perceive. I am scarcely arrived and I have already levied a contribution of Tissan upon nuts. You should sleep first, Monsignor. Eh, cobleur! My dear Monsieur D'Artagnan, I should be very glad to sleep. Who hinders you? Why, you, in the first place? I? Oh, Monsignor! No doubt you do. Is it not as at Paris? Do you not come in the king's name? For heaven's sake, Monsignor, replied the captain, I will leave the king alone. The day on which I shall come on the part of the king for the purpose you mean, take my word for it, I will not leave you long in doubt. You will see me place my hand on my sword according to the ordinals, and you will hear my say at once in ceremonial voice, Monsignor, in the name of the king, I arrest you. You promise me that frankness? said the superintendent. Upon my honour. But we have not come to that, believe me. What makes you think that, Monsieur D'Artagnan? For my part I think quite the contrary. I have heard speak of nothing of a kind, replied D'Artagnan. Eh, eh, eh! said Fouquette. Indeed, no. You are an agreeable man, in spite of your fever. The king should not, loving you, at the bottom of his heart. Fouquette's expression implied doubt. But, Monsieur Colbert, said he, does Monsieur Colbert love me as much as you say? I am not speaking of Monsieur Colbert, replied D'Artagnan. He is an exceptional man. He does not love you. So much is very possible. But, Mordio, the squirrel can guard himself against the adder with very little trouble. Do you know that you are speaking to me quite as a friend? replied Fouquette. And that upon my life I have never met with a man of your intelligence and heart? You are pleased to say so? replied D'Artagnan. Why did you wait till to-day to pay me such a compliment? Blind that we are? murmured Fouquette. Your voice is getting a horse, said D'Artagnan. Drink, Monsignor, drink! And he offered him a cup of tessane with most friendly cordiality. Fouquette took it and thanked him by a gentle smile. Such things only happen to me, said the musketeer. I have passed ten years under your very beard while you were rolling about tons of gold. You were clearing an annual pension of four millions. You never observe me. And you find out there is such a person in the world just at the moment you just at the moment I am about to fall. interrupted Fouquette. That is true, my dear M. D'Artagnan. I did not say so. But you thought so. And that is the same thing. Well, if I fall take my word is truth. I shall not pass a single day without saying to myself as I strike my brow fool, fool, stupid mortal you had a M. D'Artagnan under your eye and hand and you did not employ him. You did not enrich him. You overwhelm me, said the captain. I esteem you greatly. There exists another man then who does not think as M. Colbert thinks, said the Surin attendant. How this M. Colbert looms up in your imagination he is worse than fever. Oh, I have good cause, said Fouquette. Judge for yourself. And he related the details of the course of the lighters and the hypocritical persecution of Colbert. Is not this a clear sign of my ruin? D'Artagnan became very serious. That is true, he said. Yes, it has an unsavory odor as M. D'Traville used to say. And he fixed on M. Fouquette his intelligent and significant look. Am I not clearly designated in that, captain? Is not the king bringing me to not to get me away from Paris where I have so many creatures and to possess himself a belil? Where M. Der Blae is, added D'Artagnan. Fouquette raised his head. As for me Monsignor, continued D'Artagnan, I can assure you the king has said nothing to me against you. Indeed. The king commended me to set out for not. It is true. And to say nothing about it to M. De Gev. My friend. To M. De Gev. Yes, Monsignor. Continued the musketeer whose eyes did not cease to speak a language different from the language of his lips. The king, moreover, commended me to take a brigade of musketeers which is apparently superfluous as the country is quite quiet. A brigade! said Fouquette, raising himself upon his elbow. Ninety-six horsemen. Yes, Monsignor. The same number as were employed in arresting M. de Chalet, de Sainte-Mar, and Montmorency. Fouquette pricked up his ears at these words, pronounced without apparent value. And what else? said he. Oh, nothing but insignificant orders, such as guarding the castle, guarding every lodging, allowing none of M. De Gev's guards to occupy a single post. And as to myself, cried Fouquette, what orders had you? As to you, Monsignor? Not the smallest word. Monsieur de Tanyin, my safety, my honour, perhaps my life are at stake. You would not deceive me? I? To what end? Are you threatened? Only there really is an order with respect to carriages and boats. An order? Yes, but it cannot concern you. A simple measure of police. What is it, Captain? What is it? What is it? To forbid all horses or boats to leave Naut without a pass signed by the king. Great God! But D'Artagnan began to laugh. All that is not to be put into execution before the arrival of the king at Naut. So that you see plainly, Monsignor, the order in no wise concerns you. Fouquette became thoughtful and D'Artagnan feigned Naut to serve his preoccupation. It is evident by my thus confiding to you the orders which have been given to me that I am friendly towards you and that I am trying to prove to you that none of them are directed against you. Without doubt? Without doubt? Said Fouquette, still absent. Let us recapitulate, said the Captain, his glance beaming with earnestness. A special guard about the castle in which your lodging is to be, is it not? Do you know the castle? Ah, Monsignor, a regular prison. The absence of Monsieur D'Gievre which has the honor of being one of your friends, the closing of the gates of the city and of the river without a pass, but only when the king shall have arrived. Pleased to observe, Monsieur Fouquette, instead of speaking to a man like you who are one of the first in the kingdom, I were speaking to a troubled, uneasy conscience. I should compromise myself forever. What a fine opportunity for anyone who wished to be free. No police, no guards, no orders, the water free, the roads free. Monsieur D'Artagnan obliged to lend his horses if required. All this ought to reassure you, Monsieur Fouquette, for the king would not have left me thus independent if he had any sinister designs. In truth, Monsieur Fouquette, ask me whatever you like. I am at your service, and in return, if you will consent to do it, do me a service that of giving my compliments to Aramis and Porthos in case you embark for Belisle, as you have a right to do in your rub de chambre just as you are. Saying these words, and with a profound bow, the musketeer, whose looks had lost none of their intelligent kindness, left the apartment. He had not reached the steps of the vestibule when Fouquette, quite beside himself, hung to the bell-rope and shouted, My horses, my lighter! But nobody answered. The sir intended dressed himself with everything that came to hand. Corvie! Corvie! cried he, while slipping his watch into his pocket, and the bell sounded again whilst Fouquette repeated, Corvie! Corvie! Corvie at length appeared, breathless and pale. Let us be gone! Let us be gone! cried Fouquette as soon as he saw him. It is too late, said the sir and tenants' poor friend. Too late? Why? Listen! And they heard the sounds of trumpets and drums in front of the castle. What does that mean, Corvie? It means the king has come, Monsignor. The king! The king, who has ridden double stages, who has killed horses, and who has eight hours in advance of all our calculations. We are lost! murmured Fouquette. Brave D'Artagnan, all is over. Thou hast spoken to me too late. The king, in fact, was entering the city, which soon resounded with the cannon from the ramparts, and from a vessel which replied from the lower parts of the river. Fouquette's brow darkened. He called his valet de chambre and dressed in ceremonial costume. From his window, behind the curtains, he could see the eagerness of the people. And the movement of a large troop which had followed the prince. The king was conducted to the castle with great pomp, and Fouquette saw him dismount under the portcullis, and say something in the ear of D'Artagnan who held his stirrup. D'Artagnan, when the king had passed under the arch, directed his steps towards the house Fouquette was in, but so slowly, and stopping so frequently to speak to his musketeers, drawn up like a hedge, that it might be said he was counting the seconds or the steps before accomplishing his object. Fouquette opened the window to speak to him in the court. Ah! cried D'Artagnan on perceiving him. Are you still there, Monsignor? And that word still completed the proof to Fouquette of how much information and how many useful councils were contained in the first visit the musketeer had paid him. The sir attended sighed deeply. Good heavens, yes, monsieur, replied he. The arrival of the king has interrupted me in the projects I had formed. Oh! then you know that the king has arrived. Yes, monsieur, I have seen him, and this time you come from him. To inquire after you, Monsignor, and if your health is not too bad, to beg you to have the kindness to repair to the castle. Directly, monsieur D'Artagnan, directly. Ah! more, D'O, said the captain. Now the king has come there is no more walking for anybody. No more free will. The password governs all now. You as much as me, me as much as you. Fouquette heaved the last sigh, climbed with difficulty into his carriage so great was his weakness, and went to the castle, escorted by D'Artagnan, whose politeness was not less terrifying this time than it had just before been consoling and cheerful. End of chapter. Chapter 39 OF THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK This Liber-Vox recording is in the public domain, and is read by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK by Alexandra Dumas. Chapter 39. HOW THE KING, Louis XIV, played his little part. As Fouquette was alighting from his carriage, to enter the man of mean appearance went up to him with marks of the greatest respect and gave him a letter. D'Artagnan endeavored to prevent this man from speaking to Fouquette and pushed him away, but the message had been given to the Surin attendant. Fouquette opened the letter and read it, and instantly, a vague terror which D'Artagnan did not fail to penetrate was painted on the countenance of the First Minister. Fouquette put the paper into the portfolio he had under his arm and passed on towards the king's apartments. D'Artagnan, through the small windows made at every landing of the Dungeon Stairs, saw, as he went up behind Fouquette, the man who had delivered the note looking round him on the place and making signs to several persons who disappeared in the adjacent streets after having themselves repeated the signals. Fouquette was made to wait for a moment on the terrace of which we have spoken, a terrace which abutted on the little corridor at the end of which the cabinet of the king was located. Here D'Artagnan passed on before the Surin attendant whom till that time he had respectfully accompanied and entered the royal cabinet. Well, asked Louis XIV, who on perceiving him threw on to the table covered with papers a large green cloth. The order is executed sire. Han Fouquette. Mr. Le Surin Tendon follows me, said D'Artagnan. In ten minutes let him be introduced, said the king, dismissing D'Artagnan again with a gesture. The latter retired, but had scarcely reached the corridor at the extremity of which Fouquette was waiting for him when he was recalled by the king's bell. Did he not appear astonished? Asked the king. Who, sire? Fouquette replied the king, without saying a monsieur, a peculiarity which confirmed the captain of the musketeers in his suspicions. No, sire, replied he. That's well. And a second time Louis dismissed D'Artagnan. Fouquette had not quitted the terrace where he had been left by his guide. He re-perused his note, conceived thus. Something is being contrived against you? Perhaps they will not dare to carry it out at the castle. It will be on your return home. The house is already surrounded by musketeers. Do not enter. A white horse is in waiting for you behind the esplanade. Fouquette recognized the riding and zeal of Gervis. Not being willing that, if any evil happened to himself, this paper should compromise the morsels spread about by the wind from the balustrade of the terrace. D'Artagnan found him watching the snowflake fluttering of the last scraps in space. Monsieur, said he, the king awaits you. Fouquette walked with a deliberate step along the little corridor where Monsieur de Brienne and Rose were at work, whilst the duk de Saint-Anion, seated waiting for orders, with feverish impatience, his sword between his legs. It appeared strange to Fouquette that Monsieur Brienne, Rose and de Saint-Anion, in general so attentive and obsequious, should scarcely take the least notice as he, the Surintended, passed. But how could he expect to find it otherwise among courtiers, he whom the king no longer called anything but determined to look every one and every thing bravely in the face and entered the king's apartment where a little bell, which we already know, had already announced him to his majesty. The king, without rising, nodded to him and with interest. Well, how are you, Monsieur Fouquette? said he. I am in a high fever, replied the Surintended, but I am at the king's service. Let's assemble tomorrow. Have you a speech ready? Fouquette looked at the king with astonishment. I have not sire, replied he, but I will improvise one. I am too well acquainted with affairs to feel any embarrassment. I have only one question to ask. Will your majesty permit me? Certainly. Ask it. Why did not your majesty do his first minister the honour and notice of this in Paris? You were ill. I was not willing to fatigue you. Never did a labour. Never did an explanation fatigue me, sire, and since the moment has come for me to demand an explanation of my king, oh, Monsieur Fouquette, an explanation, an explanation pray of what? Of your majesty's intentions with respect to myself. The king blushed. I have been collumniated, continued Fouquette warmly, and I feel called upon to endure the justice of the king to make inquiries. You say all this to me very uselessly, Monsieur Fouquette. I know what I know. Your majesty can only know the things that have been told to you, and I on my part have said nothing to you, whilst others have spoken at times. What do you wish to say? Said the king, impatient to put an end to this embarrassing conversation. I will go straight to the fact, sire, and I accuse a certain man of having injured me in your majesty's opinion. Nobody has injured you, Monsieur Fouquette. That reply proves to me, sire, that I am right. Monsieur Fouquette, not when one is accused. We have already spoken too much about this affair. Your majesty will not allow me to justify myself. I repeat that I do not accuse you. Fouquette with a half bow made a step backward. It is certain, thought he, that he has made up his mind. He alone who cannot go back can show such obstinacy, not to see the danger now would be to be blind indeed, not to shun it would be stupid. He resumed aloud. Did your majesty send for me on business? No, Monsieur Fouquette, but for some advice I wish to give you. I respectfully await it, sire. Rest yourself, Monsieur Fouquette. Do not throw away your strength. The session of the states will be short, and when my secretaries shall have closed it, I do not wish business to be talked of in France for a fortnight. Has the king nothing to say to me on the subject of this assembly of the states? No, Monsieur Fouquette. Not to me, the surintended of the finances? Rest yourself, I beg you. That is all I have to say to you. Fouquette bit his lips and hung them. He was evidently busy with some uneasy thought. This uneasiness struck the king. Are you angry at having to rest yourself, Monsieur Fouquette? said he. Yes, sire, I am not accustomed to take rest. But you are ill. You must take care of yourself. Your Majesty spoke just now of a speech to be pronounced to-morrow. His Majesty made no reply. This unexpected stroke embarrassed him. Fouquette felt the weight of this hesitation. He thought he could read danger in the eyes of the young Prince, which fear would but precipitate. If I appear frightened, I am lost," thought he. The king on his part was only uneasy at the alarm of Fouquette. Has he a suspicion of anything? murmured he. If his first word is severe, again thought Fouquette, if he becomes angry or feigns to be angry for the sake of a pretext, how shall I extricate myself? Let us smooth the declivity a little. Gourvia was right. Sire said he suddenly, since the goodness of the king watches over my health to the point of dispensing with my labour, may I not be allowed to be absent from the Council of to-morrow? We will pass the day in bed and will entreat the king to grant me his physician that we may endeavour to find a remedy against this fearful fever. So be it, Mr. Fouquette. It shall be as you desire. You shall have a holiday to-morrow. You shall have the physician and shall be restored to health. Thanks! said Fouquette, bowing. Then opening his game. Shall I not have the happiness of conducting your Majesty to my residence of Belial? And he looked Louis full in the face, to judge of the effect of such a proposal. The king blushed again. Do you know, replied he, endeavouring to smile, that you have just said my residence of Belial? Yes, Sire. Well, do you not remember, continued the king in the same cheerful tone, that you gave me, Belial? That is true again, Sire. Only as you have not taken it you will doubtless come with me and take possession of it. I mean to do so. That was, besides your Majesty's intention as well as mine, and I cannot express to your Majesty how happy and proud I have been to see all the king's regiments from Paris to help take possession. The king stammered out that he did not bring the musketeers for that alone. Oh, I am convinced of that, said Phuket warmly. Your Majesty knows very well that you have nothing to do but to come alone with a cane in your hand to bring to the ground all the fortifications of Belial. Pest! cried the king. I do not wish those fine fortifications which cost so much to build all. No, let them stand against the Dutch and English. You would not guess what I want to see at Belial, Monsieur Phuket. It is the pretty peasants and women of the lands on the seashore who dance so well and are so seducing with their scarlet petticoats. I have heard great boast of your pretty tenants, Monsieur Le Sur intended. Well, let me have a sight of them. Whenever your Majesty pleases. Have you any means of transport? It shall be to-morrow, if you like. The Sur intended felt the stroke which was not adroit and replied, No, Sire, I was ignorant of your Majesty's wish. Above all, I was ignorant of your haste to see Belial and I am prepared with nothing. You have a boat of your own, nevertheless? I have five, but they are all in port, or at Pembeuf, and to join them or bring them hither will require at least 24 hours. Have I any occasion to send a courier? Must I do so? Wait a little, put an end to the fever. Wait till to-morrow. That is true. Who knows but by the to-morrow we may not have a hundred other ideas? replied Phuket, now perfectly convinced and very pale. The King started and stretched towards his little bell, but Phuket prevented his ringing. Sire, said he, I have an Agu, I am trembling with cold. If I remain a moment longer I shall most likely faint. I request your Majesty's permission to go and fling myself beneath the bed-clothes. Indeed, you are in a shiver. It is painful to behold. Come, Monsieur Phuket, be gone. I will send to inquire after you. Your Majesty overwhelms me with kindness in an hour I shall be better. I will call someone to reconduct you, said the King. As you please, Sire, I would gladly take the arm of any one. Monsieur d'Artagnan cried the King, ringing his little bell. Oh, Sire interrupted Phuket, laughing in such a manner as made the Prince feel cold. Would you give me the captain of your musketeers to take me to my lodgings? An equivocal honour that, Sire. A simple footman I beg. And why, Monsieur Phuket, Monsieur d'Artagnan conducts me often and extremely well? Yes, but when he conducts you, Sire, it is to obey you whilst me. Go on. If I am obliged to return home supported by the leader of the musketeers it would be everywhere said you had had me arrested. Arrested! replied the King, who became paler than Phuket himself. Arrested! Oh! And why should they not say so? continued Phuket, still laughing. And I would lay a wager there would be people found wicked enough to laugh at it. This sally disconcerted the monarch. Phuket was skillful enough, or fortunate enough, to make Louis the fourteenth recoil before the appearance of the deed he meditated. Monsieur d'Artagnan, when he approached, received in order to desire a musketeer to accompany the Surin attendant. Quite unnecessary, said the latter, sword for sword I prefer Gervis, who is waiting for me below. Phuket will not prevent me and join the society of Monsieur d'Artagnan. I am glad he will see Balile. He is so good a judge of fortifications. D'Artagnan bowed without at all comprehending what was going on. Phuket bowed again and left the apartment, affecting all the slowness of a man who walks with difficulty. When once out of the castle, I am saved, said he. Oh! yes, disloyal king, you shall see Balile, but it shall be when I am no longer there. He disappeared, leaving D'Artagnan with the king. Captain, said the king, you will follow Monsieur Phuket at the distance of a hundred paces. Yes, sire. He is going to his lodgings again. You will go with him. Yes, sire. You will arrest him in my name and I will shut him up in a carriage. In a carriage? Well, sire. In such a fashion that he may not, on the road, either converse with anyone or throw notes to people he may meet. That will be rather difficult, sire. Not at all. Pardon me, sire. I cannot stifle Monsieur Phuket and if he asks for liberty to breathe I cannot prevent him by closing the windows and the blinds. He will throw out at the doors all the cries and notes possible. The case is provided for Monsieur D'Artagnan. A carriage with a trellis will obviate both the difficulties you point out. A carriage with an iron trellis? cried D'Artagnan. But a carriage with an iron trellis is not made in half an hour and your majesty commands me to go immediately to Monsieur Phuket's lodgings. The carriage in question is already made. Ah! That is quite a different thing, said the captain. If the carriage is ready made, very well then we have only to set it in motion. It is ready and the horse is harnessed. Ah! And the coachman with the outriders is waiting in the lower court of the castle. D'Artagnan bowed. There only remains for me to ask your majesty with her I shall conduct Monsieur Phuket. To the castle of Angers at first. Very well, Sire. Afterwards we will see. Yes, Sire. Monsieur D'Artagnan, one last word. You have remarked that for making this capture of Monsieur Phuket. I have not employed my guards on which account Monsieur D'Gèvre would be furious. Your majesty does not employ your guards, said the captain, a little humiliated, because you mistrust Monsieur D'Gèvre. That is all. That is to say, Monsieur, that I have more confidence in you. I know that very well, Sire, and it is of no use to make so much of it. It is only for the sake of arriving at this, Monsieur, that if from this moment it should happen that by any chance whatever Monsieur Phuket should escape, such chances have been, Monsieur. Oh, very often, Sire, but for others, not for me. And why not with you? Because I, Sire, have for an instant wish to save Monsieur Phuket. The king started. Because, continued the captain, I had then a right to do so, and asked your majesty's plan without you having spoken to me of it, and that I took an interest in Monsieur Phuket. Now was I not at liberty to show my interest in this man? In truth, Monsieur, you do not reassure me with regard to your services. If I had saved him then, I should have been perfectly innocent. I will say more. I should have done well, for Monsieur Phuket is not a bad man. But he was not willing, his destiny prevailed. He let the hour of liberty slip by. So much the worse. Now I have orders. I will obey those orders. And Monsieur Phuket you may consider as a man arrested. He is at the castle of Angers, this very Monsieur Phuket. Oh, you have not got him yet, captain. That concerns me. Everyone to his trade, Sire. Only, once more, reflect. Do you seriously give me orders to arrest Monsieur Phuket, Sire? Yes, a thousand times, yes. In writing, Sire, then. Here is the order. D'Artagnan read it, bowed to the king, and left the room. From the height of the terrace he perceived Gourvier, who went by with a joyous air towards the lodgings of Monsieur Phuket. End of chapter. Chapter 40 OF THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK The man in the iron mask by Alexander Dumas Chapter 40 THE WHITE HORSE AND THE BLACK That is rather surprising, said D'Artagnan. Gourvier running about the street so gaily when he is almost certain that Monsieur Phuket is in danger, when it is almost equally certain that it was Gourvier who warned Monsieur Phuket just now by the note which was torn into a thousand pieces upon the terrace, and given to the winds by Monsieur Le Sur intended. Gourvier is rubbing his hands. That is because he has done something clever. Once comes Monsieur Gourvier. Gourvier is coming from the Rue Ozerbe. Wither does the Rue Ozerbe lead. And D'Artagnan followed along the tops of the houses of knots. Dominated by the castle, the line traced by the streets as he would have done upon a topographical plan, only instead of the dead flat paper the living chart rose in relief with the cries, the movements, and the shadows of men and things. Beyond the enclosure of the city the great verdant plains stretched out, bordering the Loire, and appeared to run towards the pink horizon, which was cut by the azure of the waters and the dark green of the marshes. Immediately outside the gates of knots two white roads were seen diverging like separate fingers of a gigantic hand. D'Artagnan, who had taken in all the panorama at a glance by crossing the terrace, was led by the line of the Rue Ozerbe to the mouth of one of those roads which took its rise under the gates of knots. One step more, and he was about to descend the stairs, take his trellis carriage, and go towards the lodgings of Monsieur Fouquet. But chance decreed, at the moment of plunging into the staircase, that he was attracted by a moving point then gaining ground upon that road. What is that? said the musketeer to himself. A horse galloping. A runaway horse, no doubt. What a rate he is going at! The moving point became detached from the road and entered into the fields. A white horse, continued the captain, who had just observed the colour thrown luminously against the dark ground. And he is mounted! It must be some boy whose horse is thirsty and has run away with him. These reflections, rapid as lightning, simultaneous with visual perception, D'Artagnan had already forgotten when he descended the first steps of the staircase. Some morsels of paper were spread over the stairs and shone out white against the dirty stones. Eh! Eh! said the captain to himself. Here are some of the fragments of the note torn by Monsieur Fouquet. Poor man! He has given his secret to the wind. The wind will have no more to do with it and brings it back to the king. Decidedly, Fouquet, you play with misfortune. The game is not a fair one. Fouquet's misfortune is against you. The star of Louis XIV obscures yours. The adder is stronger and more cunning than the squirrel. D'Artagnan picked up one of the morsels of paper as he descended. Gourvy is pretty little hand! cried he whilst examining one of the fragments of the note. I was not mistaken. And he read the word horse. Stop! said he. He examined another upon which there was not a letter traced. Upon a third he read the word white. White horse! repeated he like a child that is spelling. Ah! Mordeaux! cried the suspicious spirit. A white horse! And, like that grain of powder which, burning, dilates into ten thousand times its volume, D'Artagnan, enlightened by ideas and suspicions, rapidly reassented the stairs towards the terrace. The white horse was still galloping in the direction of the Loire, at the extremity of which, melting into the vapours of the water, a little sail appeared, wave-balanced like a water-butterfly. Oh! cried the musketeer. Only a man who wants to fly would go at that pace across ploughed lands. There is but one Fouquet, a financier, to ride thus an open day upon a white horse. There is no one but the Lord of Belial who would make his escape towards the sea, while there are such thick forests on land, and there is but one D'Artagnan in the world to catch Mr. Fouquet, who has half an hour's start, and will have gained his boat within an hour. This being said, the musketeer gave orders that the carriage with the iron trellis should be taken immediately to a thicket situated just outside the city. He selected his best horse, jumped upon his back, galloped along the Rue Ozerbe, taking not the road Fouquet had taken, but the bank itself of the Loire, certain that he should gain ten minutes upon the total distance, and, at the intersection of the two lines, come up with the fugitive, who could have no suspicion of being pursued in that direction. In the rapidity of the pursuit, and with the impatience of the Avenger, animating himself as in war, D'Artagnan, so mild, so kind towards Fouquet, was surprised to find himself become ferocious, almost sanguinary. For a long time he galloped without catching sight of the white horse. His rage assumed fury. He doubted himself. He suspected that Fouquet had buried himself in sub-Terranian road, or that he had changed the white horse for one of the famous black ones, as swift as the wind, which D'Artagnan, at Saint-Monde, had so frequently admired and envied for their vigor and their fleetness. At such moments, when the wind cut his eyes so as to make the tears spring from them, when the saddle had become burning hot, when the galled and spurred horse reared with pain, and threw behind him a shower of dust and stones, D'Artagnan raising himself in his stirrups, and seeing nothing on the waters, nothing beneath the trees, looked up into the air like a madman. He was losing his senses. In the proxisms of eagerness he dreamt of aerial ways, the discovery of the following century. He called to his mind deadless, and the vast wings that had saved him from the prisons of Crete. A horse sigh broke from his lips, as he repeated, devoured by the fear of ridicule, I, I, duped by agorvie, I, they will say that I am growing old, they will say I have received a million to allow Phuket to escape. And he again dug his spurs into the sides of his horse. He had ridden astonishingly fast. Suddenly, at the extremity of some open pasture-ground, behind the hedges, he saw a white form which showed itself, disappeared, and at last remained distinctly visible against the rising ground. D'Artagnan's heart leaped with joy. He wiped the streaming sweat from his brow, relaxed the tension of his knees, by which the horse breathed more freely, and gathering up his reins, moderated the speed of the vigorous animal, his act of accomplice on this man-hunt. He had then time to study the direction of the road, and his position with regard to Phuket. The superintendent had completely winded his horse by crossing the soft ground. He felt the necessity of gaining a firmer footing, and turned towards the road by the shortest, secant line. D'Artagnan, on his part, had nothing to do but to ride straight on, concealed by the sloping shore, so that he would cut his quarry off the road when he came up with him. Then the real race would begin. Then the struggle would be in earnest. D'Artagnan gave his horse good breathing time. He observed that the superintendent had relaxed into a trot, which was to say he too was favouring his horse. But both of them were too much press for time to allow them to continue long at that pace. The white horse sprang off like an arrow the moment his feet touched firm ground. D'Artagnan dropped his head, and his black horse broke into a gallop. Both followed the same route. The quadruple echoes of this new race-course were confounded. Phuket had not yet perceived D'Artagnan, but on issuing from the slope a single echo struck the air. It was that of the steps D'Artagnan's horse, which rolled along like thunder. Phuket turned round and saw behind him within a hundred paces his enemy bent over the neck of his horse. There could be no doubt. The shining baldrick, the red cassock, it was a musketeer. Phuket slackened his hand likewise, and the white horse placed twenty feet more between his adversary and himself. Oh! but! thought D'Artagnan, becoming very anxious, that is not a common horse Monsieur Phuket is upon. Let us see! And he attentively examined with his infallible eye the shape and capabilities of the coarser round full quarters, a thin long tail, large hawks, thin legs, as dry as bars of steel. Hoof's heart is marble. He spurred his own, but the distance between the two remained the same. D'Artagnan listened attentively, not a breath of the horse reached him, and yet he seemed to cut the air. The black horse on the contrary began to puff like any blacksmith's bellows. I must overtake him if I kill my horse! thought the musketeer, and he began to saw the mouth of the poor animal, whilst he buried the rowls of his merciless spurs into his sides. The maddened horse gained twenty paces and came up with impistile shot of Phuket. Courage! said the musketeer to himself. Courage! the white horse will perhaps grow weaker, and if the horse does not fall the master must pull up at last. But horse and rider remained upright together, gaining ground by difficult degrees. D'Artagnan uttered a wild cry which made Phuket turn round and added speed to the white horse. A famous horse, a mad rider, growled the captain. Hola, mortio! Monsieur Phuket, stop in the king's name! Phuket made no reply. Do you hear me? shouted D'Artagnan, whose horse had just stumbled. Padilla! replied Phuket, iconically, and rode on faster. D'Artagnan was nearly mad. The blood rushed boiling to his temples and his eyes. In the king's name! cried he again. Stop, or I will bring you down with a pistol shot! Do! replied Phuket, without relaxing his speed. D'Artagnan seized the pistol and cocked it, hoping that the double-click of the spring would stop his enemy. You have pistols likewise! said he. Turn and defend yourself! Phuket did turn round at the noise and looking D'Artagnan full in the face, opened with his right hand the part of his dress which concealed his body, but he did not even touch his holsters. There were not more than twenty paces between the two. Mortio! said D'Artagnan. I will not assassinate you. If you will not fire upon me, surrender! What is a prison? I would rather die! replied Phuket. I shall suffer less! D'Artagnan, drunk with despair, hurled his pistol to the ground. I will take you alive! said he, and by a prodigy of skill which this incomparable horseman alone was capable, he threw his horse forward to within ten paces of the White Horse. Already his hand was stretched out to seize his prey. Kill me! Kill me! cried Phuket. It would be more humane! No! Alive! Alive! murmured the captain. At this moment his horse made a false step for the second time and Phuket's again took the lead. It was an unheard of spectacle, this race between two horses which now only kept alive by the will of their riders. It might be said that D'Artagnan rode carrying his horse along between his knees. To the furious gallop had succeeded the fast trot and that had sunk to what might be scarcely called a trot at all but the chase appeared equally warm in the two fatigued athleteau. D'Artagnan, quite in despair, seized his second pistol and cocked it. At your horse, not at you! cried he to Phuket, and he fired. The animal was hit in the quarters. He made a furious bound and plunged forward. At that moment D'Artagnan's horse fell dead. I am dishonored, thought the musketeer. I am a miserable wretch. For pity's sake, Monsieur Phuket, throw me one of your pistols so that I may blow out my brains. But Phuket rode away. For mercy's sake! For mercy's sake! cried D'Artagnan. That which you will not do at this moment I myself will do within an hour. But here upon this road I should die bravely. I should die esteemed. Do me that service, Monsieur Phuket! Monsieur Phuket made no reply, but continued to trot on. D'Artagnan began to run after his enemy. Successively he threw away his hat, his coat which embarrassed him, and then the sheath of his sword which got between his legs as he was running. The sword in his hand itself became too heavy, and he threw it after the sheath. The white horse began to rattle in its throat. D'Artagnan gained upon him. From a trot the exhausted animal sunk to a staggering walk. The foam from his mouth was mixed with blood. D'Artagnan made a desperate effort, sprang towards Phuket, and seized him by the leg, saying in a broken, breathless voice, I arrest you in the king's name. Blow my brains out if you like. We have both done our duty. Phuket hurled far from him, into the river. The two pistols D'Artagnan might have seized, and dismounting from his horse. I am your prisoner, monsieur," said he. Will you take my arm, for I see you are ready to faint? Thanks! murmured D'Artagnan, who in fact felt the earth sliding from under his feet, and the light of day turning to blackness around him. Then he rolled upon the sand without breath or strength. Phuket hastened to the brink of the river, dipped some water in his hat, with which he bathed the temples of the musketeer, and introduced a few drops between his lips. D'Artagnan raised himself with difficulty, and looked about him with a wandering eye. He beheld Phuket on his knees, with his wet hat in his hand, smiling upon him with ineffable sweetness. You were not off, then? cried he. Oh, monsieur, the true king of royalty, in heart, in soul, is not Louis of the Louvre, or Philippe of Saint Marguerite. It is you, proscribed, condemned. I, who this day am ruined by single error, monsieur D'Artagnan, what in the name of heaven is that? I should have had you for a friend. But how shall we return to not? We are a great way from it. That is true, said D'Artagnan, gloomily. The white horse will recover, perhaps. He is a good horse. Mount, monsieur D'Artagnan, I will walk till you have rested a little. Poor beast, and wounded, too, said the musketeer. He will go, I tell you. I know him. But we can do better still. Let us both get up and ride slowly. We can try, said the captain. But they had scarcely charged the animal with this double load when he began to stagger, and then with a great effort walked a few minutes, then staggered again, and sank down dead by the side of the black horse, which he had just managed to come up to. We will go on foot. Destiny wills it so. The walk will be pleasant, said Fouquette, passing his arm through that of D'Artagnan. Mordeaux cried the latter with a fixed eye, a contracted brow, and a swelling heart. What a disgraceful day! They walked slowly the four leagues which separated them from the little wood behind which the carriage and escort were in waiting. When Fouquette perceived that sinister machine, he said to D'Artagnan, who cast down his eyes, ashamed of Louis XIV, there is an idea that did not emanate from a brave man, Captain D'Artagnan. It is not yours. What are these gratings for? said he. To prevent your throwing letters out. In genius. But you can speak if you cannot write, said D'Artagnan. Can I speak to you? Why, certainly, if you wish to do so. Fouquette reflected for a moment, then looking the captain full in the face. One single word, said he, will you remember it? I will not forget it. Will you speak it to whom I wish? I will. Saint-Monde articulated Fouquette in a low voice. Well, and for whom? For Madame de Belière or Pellissant.