Louise de la Valliere

by Alexandre Dumas

  Chapter LI. Bragelonne Continues His Inquiries.

  The captain, sitting buried in his leathern armchair, his spurs fixed inthe floor, his sword between his legs, was reading a number of letters,as he twisted his mustache. D'Artagnan uttered a welcome full ofpleasure when he perceived his friend's son. "Raoul, my boy," he said,"by what lucky accident does it happen that the king has recalled you?"

  These words did not sound agreeably in the young man's ears, who, ashe seated himself, replied, "Upon my word I cannot tell you; all that Iknow is--I have come back."

  "Hum!" said D'Artagnan, folding up his letters and directing a lookfull of meaning at him; "what do you say, my boy? that the king has notrecalled you, and you have returned? I do not understand that at all."

  Raoul was already pale enough; and he now began to turn his hat roundand round in his hand.

  "What the deuce is the matter that you look as you do, and what makesyou so dumb?" said the captain. "Do people nowadays assume that sort ofairs in England? I have been in England, and came here again as livelyas a chaffinch. Will you not say something?"

  "I have too much to say."

  "Ah! how is your father?"

  "Forgive me, my dear friend, I was going to ask you that."

  D'Artagnan increased the sharpness of his penetrating gaze, which nosecret was capable of resisting. "You are unhappy about something," hesaid.

  "I am, indeed; and you know the reason very well, Monsieur d'Artagnan."

  "I?"

  "Of course. Nay, do not pretend to be astonished."

  "I am not pretending to be astonished, my friend."

  "Dear captain, I know very well that in all trials of _finesse_, as wellas in all trials of strength, I shall be beaten by you. You can see thatat the present moment I am an idiot, an absolute noodle. I have neitherhead nor arm; do not despise, but help me. In two words, I am the mostwretched of living beings."

  "Oh, oh! why that?" inquired D'Artagnan, unbuckling his belt and thawingthe asperity of his smile.

  "Because Mademoiselle de la Valliere is deceiving me."

  "She is deceiving you," said D'Artagnan, not a muscle of whose face hadmoved; "those are big words. Who makes use of them?"

  "Every one."

  "Ah! if every one says so, there must be some truth in it. I begin tobelieve there is fire when I see smoke. It is ridiculous, perhaps, butit is so."

  "Therefore you _do_ believe me?" exclaimed Bragelonne, quickly.

  "I never mix myself up in affairs of that kind; you know that verywell."

  "What! not for a friend, for a son!"

  "Exactly. If you were a stranger, I should tell you--I will tell _you_nothing at all. How is Porthos, do you know?"

  "Monsieur," cried Raoul, pressing D'Artagnan's hand, "I entreat you inthe name of the friendship you vowed my father!"

  "The deuce take it, you are really ill--from curiosity."

  "No, it is not from curiosity, it is from love."

  "Good. Another big word. If you were really in love, my dear Raoul, youwould be very different."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean that if you were really so deeply in love that I could believe Iwas addressing myself to your heart--but it is impossible."

  "I tell you I love Louise to distraction."

  D'Artagnan could read to the very bottom of the young man's heart.

  "Impossible, I tell you," he said. "You are like all young men; you arenot in love, you are out of your senses."

  "Well! suppose it were only that?"

  "No sensible man ever succeeded in making much of a brain when the headwas turned. I have completely lost my senses in the same way a hundredtimes in my life. You would listen to me, but you would not hear me! youwould hear, but you would not understand me; you would understand, butyou would not obey me."

  "Oh! try, try."

  "I go far. Even if I were unfortunate enough to know something, andfoolish enough to communicate it to you--You are my friend, you say?"

  "Indeed, yes."

  "Very good. I should quarrel with you. You would never forgive me forhaving destroyed your illusion, as people say in love affairs."

  "Monsieur d'Artagnan, you know all; and yet you plunge me in perplexityand despair, in death itself."

  "There, there now."

  "I never complain, as you know; but as Heaven and my father would neverforgive me for blowing out my brains, I will go and get the first personI meet to give me the information which you withhold; I will tell him helies, and--"

  "And you would kill him. And a fine affair that would be. So much thebetter. What should I care? Kill any one you please, my boy, if it givesyou any pleasure. It is exactly like a man with a toothache, who keepson saying, 'Oh! what torture I am suffering. I could bite a piece ofiron in half.' My answer always is, 'Bite, my friend, bite; the toothwill remain all the same.'"

  "I shall not kill any one, monsieur," said Raoul, gloomily.

  "Yes, yes! you now assume a different tone: instead of killing, you willget killed yourself, I suppose you mean? Very fine, indeed! How muchI should regret you! Of course I should go about all day, saying, 'Ah!what a fine stupid fellow that Bragelonne was! as great a stupid as Iever met with. I have passed my whole life almost in teaching him howto hold and use his sword properly, and the silly fellow has got himselfspitted like a lark.' Go, then, Raoul, go and get yourself disposed of,if you like. I hardly know who can have taught you logic, but deuce takeme if your father has not been regularly robbed of his money."

  Raoul buried his face in his hands, murmuring: "No, no; I have not asingle friend in the world."

  "Oh! bah!" said D'Artagnan.

  "I meet with nothing but raillery or indifference."

  "Idle fancies, monsieur. I do not laugh at you, although I am a Gascon.And, as for being indifferent, if I were so, I should have sent youabout your business a quarter of an hour ago, for you would make a manwho was out of his senses with delight as dull as possible, and would bethe death of one who was out of spirits. How now, young man! do you wishme to disgust you with the girl you are attached to, and to teach you toexecrate the whole sex who constitute the honor and happiness of humanlife?"

  "Oh! tell me, monsieur, and I will bless you."

  "Do you think, my dear fellow, that I can have crammed into my brain allabout the carpenter, and the painter, and the staircase, and a hundredother similar tales of the same kind?"

  "A carpenter! what do you mean?"

  "Upon my word I don't know; some one told me there was a carpenter whomade an opening through a certain flooring."

  "In La Valliere's room!"

  "Oh! I don't know where."

  "In the king's apartment, perhaps?"

  "Of course, if it were in the king's apartment, I should tell you, Isuppose."

  "In whose room, then?"

  "I have told you for the last hour that I know nothing of the wholeaffair."

  "But the painter, then? the portrait--"

  "It seems that the king wished to have the portrait of one of the ladiesbelonging to the court."

  "La Valliere?"

  "Why, you seem to have only that name in your mouth. Who spoke to you ofLa Valliere?"

  "If it be not her portrait, then, why do you suppose it would concernme?"

  "I do not suppose it will concern you. But you ask me all sorts ofquestions, and I answer you. You positively will learn all the scandalof the affair, and I tell you--make the best you can of it."

  Raoul struck his forehead with his hand in utter despair. "It will killme!" he said.

  "So you have said already."

  "Yes, you are right," and he made a step or two, as if he were going toleave.

  "Where are you going?"

  "To look for some one who will tell me the truth."

  "Who is that?"

  "A woman."

  "Mademoiselle de la Valliere herself, I suppose you mean?" saidD'Artagnan, with a smile. "Ah! a famous idea that! You wish to beconsoled by some
one, and you will be so at once. She will tell younothing ill of herself, of course. So be off."

  "You are mistaken, monsieur," replied Raoul; "the woman I mean will tellme all the evil she possibly can."

  "You allude to Montalais, I suppose--her friend; a woman who, on thataccount, will exaggerate all that is either bad or good in the matter.Do not talk to Montalais, my good fellow."

  "You have some reasons for wishing me not to talk with Montalais?"

  "Well, I admit it. And, in point of fact, why should I play with you asa cat does with a poor mouse? You distress me, you do, indeed. And if Iwish you not to speak to Montalais just now, it is because you will bebetraying your secret, and people will take advantage of it. Wait, ifyou can."

  "I cannot."

  "So much the worse. Why, you see, Raoul, if I had an idea,--but I havenot got one."

  "Promise me that you will pity me, my friend, that is all I need, andleave me to get out of the affair by myself."

  "Oh! yes, indeed, in order that you may get deeper into the mire! Acapital idea, truly! go and sit down at that table and take a pen inyour hand."

  "What for?"

  "To write and ask Montalais to give you an interview."

  "Ah!" said Raoul, snatching eagerly at the pen which the captain heldout to him.

  Suddenly the door opened, and one of the musketeers, approachingD'Artagnan, said, "Captain, Mademoiselle de Montalais is here, andwishes to speak to you."

  "To me?" murmured D'Artagnan. "Ask her to come in; I shall soon see," hesaid to himself, "whether she wishes to speak to me or not."

  The cunning captain was quite right in his suspicions; for as soon asMontalais entered she exclaimed, "Oh, monsieur! monsieur! I beg yourpardon, Monsieur d'Artagnan."

  "Oh! I forgive you, mademoiselle," said D'Artagnan; "I know that, atmy age, those who are looking for me generally need me for something oranother."

  "I was looking for M. de Bragelonne," replied Montalais.

  "How very fortunate that is; he was looking for you, too. Raoul, willyou accompany Mademoiselle de Montalais?"

  "Oh! certainly."

  "Go along, then," he said, as he gently pushed Raoul out of the cabinet;and then, taking hold of Montalais's hand, he said, in a low voice, "Bekind towards him; spare him, and spare her, too, if you can."

  "Ah!" she said, in the same tone of voice, "it is not I who am going tospeak to him."

  "Who, then?"

  "It is Madame who has sent for him."

  "Very good," cried D'Artagnan, "it is Madame, is it? In an hour's time,then, the poor fellow will be cured."

  "Or else dead," said Montalais, in a voice full of compassion. "Adieu,Monsieur d'Artagnan," she said; and she ran to join Raoul, who waswaiting for her at a little distance from the door, very much puzzledand thoroughly uneasy at the dialogue, which promised no good augury forhim.